Dame of Owls Read Free

basement, and I didn’t rat him out because he had child support payments to make. At least, that’s what he told me. Still not entirely sure he had kids. I’m a sucker.” He spread his hands. “Which is probably why I'm in a car, with you, without having locked up the shop, going god knows where. Because I’m a sucker.”
                  He didn’t want to admit he was scared of getting shot. She’d give him that much dignity, at least.
                  “There’s a prepaid cellphone in the glove compartment. It should have some minutes left on it. Text your boss, don’t call.”
                  Whatever he said, by the time his boss got the text and got the police to care about searching for a grown man with a criminal record, Sid and Chris would be long gone. Might as well make sure the bookstore didn’t get robbed.
                  “You’re a fairy too, then?” Chris asked without looking up from the phone. “Like the alarmingly not dead guy?”
                  “Very superficially like him. I am from the Winter Court.”
                  “The difference being?”
                  “In our magic, and in our ways.” Sid shrugged. She wasn’t one for philosophy. “We are opposed, and we always will be. But to be honest, I shot that guy in particular because he’s kind of a douchebag.”
                  “I, too, shoot people I don’t like in the face.” He turned the cellphone over and over in his hands. “But fairies?”
                  “For all of your intents and purposes, we’re immortal. It’s easier to show than tell in this case. You’ll have your answers soon.”
                  That seemed to shut him up.
    ---
                  As the day wore into night, Sid ground her teeth against exhaustion. During winter she could go for days without sleep, and in the midst of battle there was no time to be tired. But driving! Driving down an infuriatingly boring stretch of road as spring bloomed into summer. It felt like her brain was encased in cotton.
                  She pulled into a gas station and handed Chris a credit card with some non-descript name on it. “Fill it up.”
                  He saluted her sarcastically, but he was less likely to run with a job to do. Sid chanced leaving him alone long enough to slip into the gas station and make two cups of cheap coffee. Her own she kept black. Into the other, smaller cup she added cream, sugar, and a finely ground dosage of strong sleeping pills.
                  If the clerk saw her do it, he didn’t give a damn.
                  Back on the highway, Sid chugged down her iron-tinged coffee and watched Chris take ginger sips of his. She drove until his head tilted back and his breathing became deep and even.
                  Sid pulled off into a rest stop bordered by a deep forest, just a bathroom and a few scattered picnic tables. Checking once to make sure her gun was loaded, she reclined her seat back and settled into an uneasy rest.
    ---
                  Sid jerked awake. Something was wrong. Her head was a haze of sweet scents: funeral flowers and corpses. She hadn’t even opened her eyes before she rolled sideways and heard a knife tear into her headrest. She threw out her elbow, and it hit her attacker’s ribcage with a satisfying thud.
                  She tore the car door open and rolled onto the pavement, coming to kneel with her gun half-drawn. Not fast enough. The Lily Knight was on her, knocking her gun to the asphalt with a clatter. He stabbed at her again, but she grabbed at his wrist and twisted. He refused to let go of his knife, brought his other fist around in a vicious hook. Sid went limp, dragging all of her weight on his captive arm. His punch went over her head, but they both hit the pavement