Beneath the gleaming skyscrapers and picturesque facade of the City of Redemption lies another city; a community of dark and ancient magic populated by creatures of the night. Cassandra True, a reporter for the Daily Oracle, has become acquainted with Strephon Bellman. She thinks he is an eccentric, if charming, recluse. She little suspects that he is actually a semi-immortal half-fae who has been charged by the Queen of Faerie with investigating fae activity in the city.
Dark Redemption is an Urban Gothic Fantasy which will be running in weekly installments Wednesday evenings. Previous installments can be found linked at the Dark Redemption Index.
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Chapter 15: Forgive Us Our Trespasses
In which Miss True attempts to check up on Strephon and gets scolded by his cat.
After the sixteenth ring, Cassandra gave up. "Where are you, Strephon?" she muttered. She wanted to share the good news with him, but he wasn't answering the phone. Where could he be? He told her that he rarely left his house so he couldn't be running an errand, and this was the third time she'd called him so he couldn't be in the loo.
An unpleasant thought had been gnawing at her since about the fifth ring: what if there was something wrong? What if he had an accident or something and couldn't get to the phone? He could be lying in the cellar with a broken something or other with no one to help him.
Or maybe she just wrote down the wrong number.
She gathered her purse together and dashed out of the newsroom. She could think of one way to be sure.
The bus dropped Cassandra off about five blocks from Strephon's house. She felt very self-conscious walking through the run-down neighborhood of once-stately homes. She walked nervously up to the door of Strephon's house and rang the doorbell.
No answer.
Of course, if he were lying somewhere in a pool of his own blood, he wouldn't be able to answer.
She tried the door. Locked. Only one thing to do.
She looked over her shoulder to make sure no one was watching. Then she circled around to the side of the building to where an ancient ivy vine covered the wall. She slung her purse over her shoulder and began to climb. Thank goodness this was one of those old buildings with lots of gingerbread to grab hold of.
Cassandra pulled herself up to the second floor and found an open window. How like that man to leave a window unlocked in a neighborhood like this! She found herself in the room she had spent the night in the night of the wolf attack. "Strephon?" she called. "Are you all right?"
She heard no answer, so she began to look around. She found Strephon's room easily enough. The bed was neatly made and there were fresh flowers in the vase on the bedside table. Cassandra wondered who made the bed and did Strephon's housework. He made no mention of servants, but she could hardly see how he could do it himself.
She sat down on the bed and absently stroked the counterpane. It reminded her of the dream she had the night of Melchior’s party. She rarely remembered her dreams, but the recent ones were so vivid and... strange. She wondered what it meant to have erotic dreams about a man she only just met. Her flatmate Cecily would probably say it meant she needed to get laid; that's why Cassandra hadn't mentioned the dreams to her. Cecily had given her enough grief about spending the night here as it was.
Cassandra let her attention wander to the photograph next to the vase on the bedside table. It was a faded old black and white photograph of a beautiful woman in a frilly Victorian dress. Could that be Strephon's great-grandmother or something?
A grey striped cat padded into the room and leapt onto the bed next to her. She remembered glimpsing the animal on her previous visit to Strephon’s house, but on that occasion the cat had ignored Cassandra. This time the cat approached her with the aggrieved air of a homeowner confronting a brazen trespasser and scolded her with an outraged “miao!” “Hello, puss,” Cassandra said, reaching out to scratch the cat’s head. The cat lowered her ears in warning, but permitted the liberty.
"What are you doing here?"
The voice behind her startled her and Cassandra fell backwards on the bed as she turned to face it.
A tall, slim man wearing a black trenchcoat and dark glasses stood in the doorway and frowned at her. "I said, what are you doing here?"
"Who are you?" Cassandra asked.
"My name is Devon," the man in black replied. "You might say I'm a cousin of Strephon's. No need to ask who you are, although you still haven't said what you're doing rummaging through my cousin's belongings."
"I was looking for Strephon!" Cassandra said hotly.
"Did you expect to find him in his underwear drawer?"
Cassandra blushed. "I've been trying to call him all afternoon and he hasn't answered. I was worried about him."
"As you've probably guessed by now, my cousin is out. I suggested that he buy a cellular phone, but that would be too 21st Century for him. He's not very big on any technology that post-dates the Crystal Palace Exhibition."
Cassandra frowned, but she couldn't puzzle out what he meant by that. "Hey, if you were here all along, why didn't you answer the door?"
"Why don't I make you some tea and you can wait for Strephon in the parlor? He'd never forgive me if I didn't show you hospitality."
Cassandra followed him downstairs to the parlor, her cheeks burning. She found it hard to believe that this neo-goth punk in the pseudo-Matrix shades could be at all related to Strephon, the dignified gentleman with the old-fashioned sideburns and Victorian manners.
Devon did seem to know his way around Strephon's house well enough to make a pot of tea, which argued for his bona fides. Cassandra stirred her cup and sipped it. "Strephon never mentioned you," she said at last. "Do you live here?"
"No, I'm just visiting. You could say I'm from out of town."
"Are you from America?" His accent didn't sound American, but being a foreigner might account for the aura of strangeness the man seemed to possess.
Devon chuckled. "Oh no, much farther than that. Farther than the Moon and nearer than a heartbeat."
"Is that some kind of a riddle?"
"You might say so. Perhaps Strephon will explain it to you someday."
Cassandra found Devon's smug attitude highly annoying, but since she had been technically trespassing, all she could do was drink her tea and wish Strephon would arrive.
Before her tea grew cold, her wish came true. The big oaken front door creaked open and Strephon pushed his chair into the foyer. "Devon!" he said with more than a touch of annoyance. "What are you doing here?"
"Keeping your lady friend company. You really need to set better wards around this place."
Strephon furrowed his brow. "Indeed, I do. You may go now, Devon. The front door, if you please."
This remark also puzzled Cassandra. Did he expect Devon to sprout wings and fly out the window? Devon only smirked and ambled to the door. "Nice talking to you, Miss True," he said, lowering his glasses.
Cassandra stifled a gasp. His eyes were a vivid purple and slit like a cat's. At least that's how they looked for the instant she saw them before he slipped out the door. Designer contact lenses. It had to be.
When Devon had gone, Strephon turned his attention to Cassandra. "What are you doing here?"
She was getting tired of this question. "I wanted to tell you the good news, but when you didn't answer the phone..."
"The phone? How did you get my number?"
"What? Oh, that. You forgot to give it to me. So I called the taxi company and got Tobias's number, and then he gave me his grandmother's number and she gave me yours. Oh, and she told me to give you a message. She said: Don't be a fool. Treat her right." Cassandra wrinkled her nose curiously. "Who was she talking about?"
Strephon cleared his throat. "My cat, Mrs. Hudson. Grandmama Simms is a great cat lover. Anyway, you were saying?"
"When you didn't answer the phone, I got worried. So I came to make sure you were all right." She felt foolish. What must Strephon think of her?
Strephon said nothing for a long time. "Well, what was the good news?"
"Huh? Omigosh! I completely forgot! I got my byline! My editor liked the story I wrote! The profile on Melchior Dusk. It ran in this morning’s edition.”
“I know. I saw it.”
“You did?” She paused thoughtfully. “I thought you didn’t read the Oracle.”
“Well, I didn’t formerly, but that was before I knew someone who worked for the paper. And I did tell you that I’d be paying more attention to the captions.”
Cassandra giggled. “Bud that's not all!" she added. She leaned closer to him and said in a confidential tone. "Guess who else liked the story? Simon Knox! He called me up and wanted to schedule an interview! Simon Knox wants to hire me! Isn't that incredible?"
Strephon ran his hand along his chin thoughtfully. "Yes, it certainly is."
NEXT: Iced Cappuccinette