This was a disaster.
But it was also an opportunity.
She knew there was a group hunting her. She knew how they found her.
This was the perfect chance for her to show everyone: Nita was not someone you should mess with.
Thirteen
IT TOOK ANOTHER FIFTEEN MINUTES for Nita to ensure all the blood was gone and put on the new T-shirt. The fabric was soft and deliciously clean. She still felt a bit grimy—washing blood off in the train station washroom wasn’t quite the same as a shower—but she was confident at least most of the blood was gone. She shoved her gory T-shirt into the waste bin on the way out.
They boarded the streetcar and headed off to see the kelpie. As they rose from the underground and went along the shoreline, Nita looked out the window uneasily, not liking how close they were to the cold waters of Lake Ontario. Her mind supplied her with all sorts of stories of kelpies drowning people.
There were a lot.
She shuddered, wondering how many bones of his victims sat on the bottom of the lake.
They got off at Bathurst and walked up the dark street, away from the water. Nita wasn’t comforted.
“Whatever happens, if he tries to lure us into water, we run,” she told Kovit.
He snorted, and turned down a long street of brick buildings advertising artsy stores, antique shops, boutique clothing, and used book stores. Despite how close they were to downtown—the lights of the CN Tower weren’t that far off—the whole area looked a bit grungy.
“I feel like there’s no way he could lure us to the water without being extremely overt about it.”
“He’s a kelpie. They’re semiaquatic.” Nita frowned. “His place will have water somewhere. I bet it has a pool or something in the basement that connects to the lake.”
Kovit frowned. “Maybe.”
“If he lures us into the basement, we leave.”
“All right.”
Nita didn’t know how Kovit could be so calm about this. Maybe it was simply that he’d met the kelpie before, or maybe he had less fear of dangerous unnaturals because he was one. Either way, Nita intended to keep her guard up.
They ended up in front of a small shop. The sign out front was peeling, white paint coming off and making the sign striped. It read Antique Shop, but Nita knew a pawnshop when she saw one. The door was a dark green that looked brown in the evening light. The glass windows displayed old furniture, Victorian chaises with faded upholstery, curio cabinets full of ceramic dancing girls, all haphazardly crammed together so that you could only look at them from a distance, not actually get to them.
The sign in the window read CLOSED, but the lights were on. Kovit knocked on the door, dislodging a sign on the door that said Sell your souls here! We pay better than the Devil and have a faster payment plan than God.
“Interesting sense of humor.” Nita commented.
Kovit looked at the sign and snorted. “You have no idea.”
The door swung open suddenly, and a voice said, “It’s not a joke. Sometimes people want to sell souls to unicorns.”
Nita looked up at the kelpie. He looked perfectly human. Maybe Kovit’s age, with skin so white it looked almost ghostly. His black hair had a slight wave to it, and his eyes were that murky hazel that seemed almost yellow.
“I can’t tell if you’re pulling my leg or not,” Nita admitted.
He grinned. His smile flickered like a hologram, just for a second, and another smile appeared beneath it. This one wasn’t human shaped at all. Rows and rows of needle-thin teeth, slightly yellowed, each about the length of Nita’s finger, all pressed together so tight they seemed to overlap each other, a forest of impossibly long teeth on a jaw not even remotely related to human biology.
Then the human smile was back, like the other one had never been. Normal, flat teeth, a little too white, like they’d been bleached.
Nita snuck a glance at Kovit, but he seemed perfectly calm. If he’d seen the glitch in the kelpie’s smile, he was hiding it very well.
“Well, don’t stand there, come in.” The kelpie stepped aside and waved them in. Kovit entered easily, but Nita hesitated, eyes flicking over the kelpie’s face, now perfectly human. He raised his eyebrows at her, and she stepped inside.
It was, if possible, even more cramped than it looked, and they wove their way through piles of curiosities. She bumped into a bust-high marble pillar holding a statue of a screaming horse head with a lightbulb on top and a tasseled lampshade. Nita wondered who in the world would buy—or even make—something that hideous.
The kelpie paused at the counter and turned to grin at them. “So, shall we go discuss things down in the basement?”
Nita stared at him, then slowly turned to Kovit. This was their cue to run, though she hadn’t thought it would happen quite so fast. But Kovit just stood there, a slightly startled expression on his face.
Nita repeated, “The basement.”
“Yes.” The kelpie smiled. “I have a lovely underground pool there.”
Nita stared at him, her mind not sure what the hell was happening, and if this was some sort of farce because that was the same as declaring, Come to my underground murder chamber, until the kelpie doubled over in laughter.
Nita scowled in understanding. The twat was playing a joke on them.
“Oh, God, Kovit, I knew you wouldn’t warn her. The look on her face.”
“I thought your sense of humor had improved.” Kovit’s voice was dry.
“Ever the optimist.”
Nita turned to Kovit. “He did this to you, and you didn’t warn me?”
“No, he invited us to chat over dinner, picked a beachside restaurant, and suggested we all go swimming together.” Kovit’s voice was deadpan. “It wasn’t funny then, either.”
The kelpie continued laughing. “Oh, it was priceless. I still remember that moment of horror on your face. Your life flashing before your eyes. It was beautiful.”
Nita scowled. “It’s not funny.”
He grinned at her. “Yes it was. You looked like all your worst nightmares had come true, and you couldn’t believe they would be so blunt about it.”
Nita’s scowl deepened.
“I can’t resist. Every time they come in, they always think the same damn thing. Kelpie, water, basement murder chamber.” The kelpie grinned at her, eyes dancing with mischief. “Really, if they’d stop stereotyping, then the pranks wouldn’t work.”
Nita raised an eyebrow. “So you don’t have a pool in the basement where you murder people?”
“I never said that.” He winked and gestured toward a table. “We can talk there.”
The kelpie made his way over to the table, and Nita followed. It had a three-thousand-dollar price tag and was covered in bags of marbles, fifty-year-old Barbies, and a bronze helmet, among other things. He gestured for them to sit.
Nita sat gingerly, the old wicker chair groaning beneath her, and Kovit followed suit.
“Kovit.” The kelpie grinned again. Nita waited for his smile to change back to something else with more teeth, but it stayed firm. “It’s so nice to see you. And you’ve brought a friend. Be polite, introduce us.”
“Nita, this is Adair. Adair, this is Nita.”