Soul Song by Marjorie M. Liu

Author:Marjorie M. Liu
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
Tags: Fantasy fiction, Mermen, Fiction, Romance, Fantasy, Parapsychology, Psychics, Love stories
ISBN: 9780843957662
Publisher: Leisure Books
Published: 2007-07-03T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

According to Koni, Dirk & Steele had some very strong connections to Vancouver’s law enforcement, enough so that if corruption did exist—and there was no doubt at this point that it did—it would only be a matter of time before the men, armed with Officer Yu’s name, found the two bad cops and squeezed some additional information out of them. As well as ruining their careers and putting them behind bars.

All of this M’cal learned on the drive back to Hastings. Hari and Amiri—after rendezvousing with their police friends—were going to meet them near the Youth Center. Home base, as Koni said, for Alice Hardon.

It was seven in the evening. The sun had set. The darkness made M’cal uneasy. The witch would be up and about; Ivan would be mobile. And the compulsion still had not returned. That was not right.

And what is your basis for comparison? Nothing like this ever happened to you before.

No, but he still had his instincts. Whatever this was, it could not be called good luck. Something was wrong.

He wished he had not left Kitala.

Koni smoked as he drove. “How long have you been in trouble?”

For a moment, the question reminded M’cal of Elsie. Elsie, whom he had almost forgotten. The woman was probably still alive, but not for much longer. Her body would give out in a day or two. If she was lucky, she’d die in her sleep. An autopsy would reveal no obvious cause of death, but doctors were always ready to apply some diagnosis, even if incorrect. No doubt the same would be done to her. And to Kitala.

“Long enough,” M’cal said. It was as good an answer as any.

Koni frowned. “She’s made you kill?”

“Among other things.”

“How do you feel about that?”

M’cal looked at him. Koni shrugged. “Some people take death more seriously than others. You don’t seem to be rolling in guilt.”

“Are you a mind reader?”

“God, no.”

“Then do not presume to know what I feel.”

“Fair enough.” Koni tossed his cigarette out the window.

M’cal stared through the windshield at the car ahead of them. He listened to the wipers, the rumble of the engine. So normal. So regular. All an illusion, one more thing to take for granted. Kitala had used the word alien, and she was right. Even he could feel it, more strongly than ever: the oddity, the strangeness of the situation. Everyone around him—on this road—going about their lives, never guessing that the car behind, beside, in front carried magic, myth; a shape-shifter and a merman.

Ridiculous. Fantastic. Funny even, though M’cal had no urge to laugh. He had never felt so alien as in this moment, so much outside every boundary of human normality.

You are a killer, a slave, he told himself. Think of human history. That is perfectly normal.

But not very comforting.

Koni parked the car in front of the Youth Center. The lights were off. All kinds of activity on the street—business as usual, with the women strutting tall and the brake lights shining. M’cal did not particularly want to interact with anyone.

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