Out of the Blue Read online

  “We would never ask you to,” Chief Baobab told her fondly, much like a father placating a child.

  Niko bit the inside of his cheek, his eyes travelling over the length of the young man’s body. He was strikingly attractive, even in death. In the way that some people viewed fashion models and celebrities, the victim radiated a surreal kind of appeal. Without touching the body, Niko leaned in closer, stepping around the blood staining that did exist, to get a better view of the details of the scene.

  “No other noticeable wounds or marks on the body, apart from the primary injury to the chest,” Dr. Aspen continued on, trying to regain the professionalism that served as her comfort. “No defensive wounds to speak of on the hands or forearms. I have to examine his back more thoroughly to be sure, but the only other damage I could find to the body was focused in his ears.”

  “So either he knew his attacker or it was a surprise,” Niko murmured, “or both.” With a quick glance up at Aspen, Niko shuffled closer and crouched down by the victim’s head to examine his ears. A small trail of blood had dripped down there. But the blood wasn’t the most interesting part of the ears. The more relevant detail, to Niko, was that they were not pointed. “He’s not Fae.”

  Dr. Aspen shook her head. “No,” she said. “At best guess, he’s of Nimueh’s Court, but we can’t rule out Connor’s Court either. We’ll need more tests to determine—”

  “I’ve never seen a Werewolf with tattoos like this,” Niko said, the urge to run his fingertips over the lines of the printed collar rising with every moment. “And collars are of particular importance in their culture. Maybe Wizard…but something seems off.” Niko wiped one hand over the other palm, making a temporary trade of his physical touch for magical touch instead. He ran his newly enhanced hand through the air over the victim’s body, sensing for magical traits instead of physical ones. The magic on the air crackled and ruffled in the movement of his hand, pressing upward and downward at once, engulfing, swirling, both hot and cold. He had the sense of placing his hand inside a freezer and of moving his hand through a heavy current of water all at once. “This isn’t like any magical signature I’ve ever felt. It doesn’t feel like Wizard.”

  “He is no Wizard,” a voice informed them. The sound was like waves on the sand, smooth and soothing, with just a hint of the rocky shells underneath. Niko straightened abruptly, his instincts fighting the calming effect of the voice immediately. With a quick glance back where he’d come from, Niko confirmed there was no one else joining them. But noticing the Captain and Chief’s reactions, he turned swiftly toward the ocean.

  Standing calf-deep in the surf was a man. Niko was somewhat at a loss to describe him more fully than that, because the moment his eyes met the man’s, his mind and body were assaulted with images that set his entire being alight. Niko saw the man on him, pressing him roughly to the sand and penetrating him from behind, holding him close and steady, dragging his teeth over Niko’s shoulder, and causing Niko to cry out in ecstasy. In less than the time it took to blink, Niko felt himself grow hard, the bottom falling out of his stomach.

  He released a silent, almost unnoticeable groan, urging his body’s reactions back in check. Through sheer force of will, he tamped down his erection and regained some of his dignity. Throat tight, jaw wired like a vise, Niko realized it was much too late in the game to pull out his gun. If this man had been a threat, they’d all already be dead. At the back of his mind, he realized that he wasn’t the only one who’d fallen prey to whatever strange trance this man triggered. Captain Baobab was only just stepping forward, in line with Niko, to confront the stranger. Chief Banyan was smoothing her skirt unconsciously, her eyes wide, and Dr. Aspen had nearly fallen into a swoon. The forensic techs were far enough away by now that they hadn’t even noticed anything behind them.

  “Who are you? How did you get over here?” Captain Baobab asked, his tone quickly recovering from whatever visions had assaulted him. Niko finally managed to focus his mind enough to take in more details about the stranger.

  He was tall and muscular, his shoulders broad, though not bulky. His face was a map of perfect planes and smooth skin. His eyes were alarmingly bright, even lighter than Niko’s, in a staggering crystal grey colour, and his hair, shaved very short at the sides but longer along the crest of his head, was silver-white. It moved on the air as though light as cloud. These details were even more striking against the rich, deep colour of his skin, like the sky on a clear night. Niko allowed his eyes to roam down the length of the man, unperturbed by clothing or obstacle. The man was nearly naked before them, wearing only a pair of skin-tight trunks in an iridescent aquamarine that matched the colour of the ocean around him.

  As Niko scraped at the inner walls of his mind in search of the right word to describe this man, every term seemed to fall flat. Beautiful. Gorgeous. Hot. Attractive. Handsome. Sexy. Nothing seemed right. The best Niko’s addled brain could manage was magnetic. That and something else. Powerful. The kind of power he knew how to use. For precisely the right ends.

  A not unpleasant shudder ran down Niko’s spine, and he clenched his jaw tightly, searching to quell the rush of blood to his nether regions. Again, his mind flooded with images of just how this man might have power over Niko. And exactly how Niko responded to that.

  “My name is Cobalt Sincloud,” he said, nodding gently in deference to Captain Baobab. “And I swam until I could stand, then I walked.”

  The Captain stared a moment. His expression shifted from confusion to frustration. “This is supposed to be a closed crime scene,” he said, sidestepping the answer he got previously. “Who let you in?”

  Cobalt Sincloud, whoever he was, tilted his head minutely, glancing back over his shoulder at the open ocean. “I did no pass any barriers,” he said. “Perhaps your officers did not anticipate a possible incursion from the waters,” he offered as a possibility. Niko was having increasing difficulty understanding what this man was saying.

  Chief Banyan stepped forward at this point, clearly past her limit of nonsense for one day. “I am Chief Banyan of the Maeve’s Court Police Department, I am ranking officer on scene, and I demand that you explain yourself immediately. Who or what are you, and what connections do you have with this case?”

  The man nodded once to her as well, bowing slightly deeper than he had to the Captain. As he did, sunlight hit against something on his chest. There were lines written in black and blue and gold across his shoulders and collar bone, swirling and branching toward the dip below his neck, just like their victim. And there, at the centre of the lines, where the victim had a diamond-like pattern of scar tissue, Cobalt Sincloud had a pearlescent, oval blue stone set into his skin. The stone shimmered with contained magic that Niko could feel in his enhanced hand, even from several feet away. Unnerved, Niko swiped his hands together, making the trade again to get his regular sense of touch back.

  “Forgive me, Chief Banyan,” he said carefully. “I am a Selkie of the Northern Reef and Captain of the Royal Guard. And the man lying on the sand is the Prince.”

  Chapter 3

  There were no words that came immediately to Niko’s mind. Save, perhaps, a string of curse words he didn’t think were particularly useful. There was so much to unpack in the few words Cobalt had spoken, Niko couldn’t decide where to begin. In the end, he settled on the main point that the other Fae gathered seemed to have snagged on. Selkies weren’t real. They were the stuff of legend.

  “Excuse me?” said Chief Banyan.

  “Fascinating,” Aspen mused.

  “Is this a joke?” Captain Baobab said, and unfortunately all three of them spoke at precisely the same moment, essentially lobbing a cacophony of disbelief at Cobalt, self-proclaimed mythical creature.

  Niko, meanwhile, stood silently considering him. There were perhaps a few advantages to be gained by lying here. If Cobalt Sincloud was involved in the death of their victim, then lying about being a Selkie might serve as an effective distraction. For a
short while at least. But to what end? They had already discovered the body, already collected evidence and begun their analysis. There were police surrounding the area; it would have been called in to dispatch. Any telling evidence would already be on its way to the station with the forensic techs who departed before Cobalt arrived. And if Cobalt needed to escape the crime scene without becoming a person of interest, he certainly could have swum out beyond the limits of the crime scene tape or otherwise disappeared without the gathered police noticing him. They hadn’t, after all, noticed him coming up on them, had they?

  But a lie as outrageous as ‘I’m a Selkie and so is your victim’ would serve only to draw more interest and scrutiny from the police. Which, to Niko, indicated that it wasn’t actually a lie. The only conclusions he could therefore draw of Cobalt were that either he was mentally unstable—possible—or else actually telling the truth—unlikely. Still, nothing else about Cobalt’s behaviour indicated he was suffering some kind of psychological break.

  “I understand this may be difficult to believe,” Cobalt said, apparently seeking to assuage all of their concerns at once. He looked them each in the eye, one by one, his expression conceding the oddity of the situation. When he met Niko’s gaze, he lingered an added moment. Or was that just in Niko’s mind? Another trick of the strange visions he was having? And what caused those? Niko had been around his fair share of Wizards and Werewolves and had never experienced anything like it before.

  “I’ll say,” Captain Baobab said, crossing his arms over his chest and making himself seem much larger than he was, suit or no suit. “This is some kind of ridiculous prank we don’t have time for. Selkies aren’t real.”

  “I have not had enough coffee to deal with the bureaucratic nightmare that this case is becoming,” Banyan said, more to herself than anyone else. She pressed a finely manicured nail to her temple and took a calculated breath through her nose.

  “It is no prank,” Cobalt said, his tone remaining even despite the slightly ruffling of his hair at Baobab’s comment. “And I assure you, Selkies are indeed very real.”

  “I’m still asleep,” Baobab said, staring out beyond Cobalt, then turning slowly to Niko, squinting at him as though he might see through him like a ghost. “It’s the only explanation for today. I’m having some Ash-awful nightmare. No offense, Spruce. Though why would you take offense? You’re not even here.”

  “This is unprecedented,” Aspen chimed in, studying Cobalt from behind her clipboard the way a scientist might approach a new specimen. Not so much the way you would expect to approach another person. “Forgive me, but can you prove yourself in some way?”

  A very long second passed where Cobalt stared at Dr. Aspen, and Niko shut his eyes and sucked the insides of his cheeks.

  “Prove myself?” Cobalt asked, looking increasingly confused. His eyes travelled now and again to the body lying on the ground behind them, shielded by the Fae standing before him. He hadn’t moved from his position in the water since arriving. It was almost as though he’d simply manifested there.

  “How did you get here?” Niko asked suddenly. Cobalt raised a silver-white eyebrow, glancing back over his shoulder at the water. He opened his mouth, no doubt to offer his previous answer, but Niko shook his head. “I mean, how did you get here without any of us noticing you? We didn’t hear any splashes or unexpected sounds on the water. We didn’t see you until you spoke. How did you do that?”

  A light dawned in Cobalt’s bright eyes, and he nodded. “I swam most of the way in Selkie form, under water. We move–differently–through the water than land-dwelling creatures. And in return, the water responds differently to us.” He gestured to his feet, still fully submerged in the surf, and began to move forward. As he did, the water shifted effortlessly with him. Instead of his legs pushing through the water, it was as if the water carried his feet forward. There was no sound but that of the waves.

  “Fascinating,” Aspen said again, and Baobab frowned.

  “I’m sure there is magic that can accomplish that,” Banyan said.

  Slightly frustrated, Cobalt’s expression flashed momentarily annoyed, but it was gone so quickly Niko wasn’t sure he’d read it correctly.

  “Possibly,” he said, “but I doubt magic would afford you gills like ours.” That was enough to silence them all, and Cobalt gestured to his neck, turning his head to each side slowly. Along the curve of muscle, on either side, were three faint diagonal lines, almost like scars.

  “Can you show us how these gills function?” Aspen asked, her eyes bright and her pen poised to scribble findings on her clipboard. “Are they similar to shark gills? Or perhaps they function more similarly to whale blowholes? No, that doesn’t make much sense with the sizing and placement of them—”

  “We don’t have time for show and tell,” Baobab said, clearly past his limit now. Banyan, standing next to him with her lips pursed to the point of sucking them inward, looked as though she was about to burst an artery.

  “You said the victim was a Selkie,” Niko said, trying to move things along. “Would he have gills too?”

  Cobalt nodded slowly, his expression clouding over. “He does,” he said, and his eyes found the body again. “Now that he is passed, the magic binding them closed in his land-walking form would have released.” A hitch in his voice at the word ‘passed’ caught Niko’s attention, but he let it go for the moment.

  “Dr. Aspen?” Niko asked pointedly, and she jumped to attention and rushed to the victim’s side, a stainless steel implement in hand. She crouched down and worried gently at the lines she found on his pallid, blueish skin. Niko chanced a glance back at Cobalt only to find him shutting his eyes, his jaw tight.

  “Oh my! They really are gills!” Aspen cried out. “When I first identified them I thought they might be scars, either from some old injury or some kind of superficial surgery for aesthetic reasons, because of the tattoos, but—”

  “Those are not tattoos,” Cobalt said, suddenly right next to Niko. He stood in the shallows of the surf, only a few feet away from the body now. Niko was overwhelmed with the smell of the sea—salt and hot sand and clear air with a whisper of wet wood. Deciding it was probably from the waves behind them, Niko tried to brush off the feeling of freedom it suddenly instilled in him. “They are his mantle. Every Selkie is born with unique markings that envelop the shoulders and collar, known as a mantle. At the centre of the mantle lies our Soul Stone, which—”

  His words cut off abruptly, his entire demeanour changing. Tightness spread out from his shoulders to his limbs, and his eyes widened when he actually saw the full scale of the injuries to the body. Some kind of instinct overtook him, causing him to reach out with one hand, but he caught himself. Fingers balling to a fist before he slowly dropped his arm back to his side, Cobalt seemed to be lost for a moment.

  “What is it?” Baobab said, apparently more willing to buy the Selkie story now they had some more convincing evidence. “Have we missed something?”

  Cobalt collected himself, and Niko watched the effort of his will travelling over every inch of his body. He was perfectly in charge of himself, and a frisson passed down Niko’s spine.

  “His Soul Stone is gone,” Cobalt said, averting his eyes from the body a moment. Then, as though deciding he would not be conquered by it, he turned his attention back to the victim and stared directly at the chest wound.

  “Is that important?” Banyan asked.

  Cobalt’s gaze passed slowly over the body toward Banyan, offering her a withering look, before returning to the remains of what he called a Prince. “Yes,” he said. “Every Selkie is born with a Soul Stone. It is believed all our magic, all of our Soul is contained within the confines of the Stone.” Here he pressed the tips of his fingers to the edge of the blue oval stone on his chest. It flickered with added light for a moment, more beautiful than anything Niko had ever seen. “We and it are born of the Great Reef, and when a Selkie dies, both are returned to the Reef so that our Soul a
nd Song might live on, until the time another is born to claim it.” He pressed his lips together, his eyebrows drawn low over his eyes. Niko followed his gaze to the face of the victim. What was their victim to Cobalt? Just a Prince to a guard? Or something more? “To deny the rite of passing to the Selkie is to deny them eternal life or rebirth. It is a betrayal of the deepest kind.” He turned to the Captain and the Chief, his expression set. “I must retrieve Prince Indigo’s Soul Stone and return it to the Reef with his body.”

  Captain Baobab’s eyebrows shot up, his expression almost comical. “This Soul Stone you speak of may very well be evidence in the possible murder of this man,” he said. “We will investigate the case as usual, and should we come upon the Stone, and should it have no bearing on our case, then the Stone will be turned over to any next of kin. If the Stone does have bearing on our case, then it will be stored in evidence until the case is closed and all possible avenues of prosecution are exhausted. At that time, the Stone will be return—”

  “That is unacceptable,” Cobalt said, and his tone implied there was no negotiating the subject. Chief Banyan did not take kindly to that.

  “I’m afraid that is how it will have to be,” she said firmly. “Barring royal intervention, the law clearly states—”

  “Ah yes,” Cobalt said, walking back through the water several feet until he found something in the shallows. Reaching down, he picked up what appeared to be a bag of some kind. The surface was silvery-blue, like the trunks he wore, and reflected light like the surface of the ocean. From within the bag, he drew out a badge of some kind, adorned in gold and encrusted with pearls and some kind of opal-like stones Niko had never seen before, as well as what looked remarkably like a scroll. It was tied with sparkling green thread, and the paper—if that’s what it was—shone like mica in the sun. “I think this will satisfy the requirement of royal intervention.”