Chapter 15

  After dinner, sitting in front of the low fire in my kitchen's enormous hearth, I placed a call to London on the speakerphone. We listened to the phone ring four times before a groggy-sounding woman's voice, thick with sleep and an unfamiliar accent, said, "UNSDI London, Rhodes speaking."

  "Good evening, Ms. Rhodes," I said politely. "Sorry if I woke you. This is Caitlyn Reid, in Oakwood?"

  "Oh! Oh hell, what time is it?" I heard something clatter in the background, then she said, "My watch is still set to Eastern Standard Time. And the clock on my laptop. I thought these stupid things auto-updated. At least the damned phone did. What's the point of having a clock on a phone, and why is it somehow the best clock I've got?" She sighed into the phone. "Sorry. Gimme a sec?"

  "Of course," I replied, hoping my amusement didn't come across in my voice.

  I heard a thump as the phone was put down on the other end, then a clatter, what sounded like muffled swearing, followed by running and splashing water for a few moments. Finally, she cleared her throat and said, "Sorry. Jet-lagged don't even begin to describe the state I'm in right now. Flew in from New Orleans at some obscene hour this morning and had a passel of paperwork waiting for me, because they couldn't have had me do it all on the flight over, or even before I left. Can't believe I fell asleep on my laptop keyboard."

  Her accent was confusing me. Mostly, it was full of the lazy, warm drawl I associated with the Southern United States, thanks mainly to popular media. But occasionally it veered into a territory which sounded almost Irish, with the same lyrical qualities I'd heard in Oberon's voice.

  She yawned, and when she spoke again she sounded apologetic. "I'm right sorry, Lady Reid. I'm not makin' the best first impression, am I."

  I found myself smiling in spite of my wariness. She didn't sound like she was much older than I was, if at all, and she sounded genuinely contrite. "If it's any consolation," I said, "you're already leaps and bounds ahead of either of the ICOA reps I've spoken with."

  She snorted indelicately, and I heard laughter in her voice when she replied. "Settin' the bar pretty damn low there. Still, I appreciate the sentiment."

  So, she had a low opinion of the ICOA as well. That was, I felt, a good sign. "You left a message asking me to return your call. What can I do for you?"

  "Right, y'all didn't call to hear me moan about bein' jet lagged." She paused for a moment, and when she spoke again sounded more serious and a bit more put together. "On behalf'a my employers at the United Nations Supernatural Defense Initiative - ain't that a mouthful - I'd like to formally request an official meetin' with you on neutral ground." She paused again for a moment, then added, "Somewhere in London, maybe? Don't know my way around yet, but there's gotta be a nice diner or somethin' where we can have some grub and a friendly jaw."

  I was, I realized, still smiling, liking her approach a lot more than the ICOA's. "That sounds good to me," I said, wondering if I could learn just a bit more about her before saying yes or no. "I don't have many contacts outside of Oakwood yet, and my first encounters with the ICOA have been…unpleasant. They keep showing up at my home without warning, so you're already off on the right foot as far as I'm concerned."

  "Well, thank the mountains for that," she said dryly. That was a curious turn of phrase. "Wait, lemme guess: couple'a stuffed shirts who thought they were the second coming and, just 'cause they were men and from the ICOA, a little girl like you should do as they said."

  I grimaced at how accurately she'd described them. "That is, unfortunately, the impression I got from both of them, yes."

  "God, I love British accents," she said. "Where's yours from? Don't sound like the London folks I've met so far."

  "Cambridge," I said with a smile. "I grew up and went to school there."

  "Posh," her voice sounded teasing, but there was good natured laughter in it too.

  "I can't quite place your accent," I said, hoping again to learn a bit more about her. "Where are you from?"

  "West Virginia, in the good old US of A." I thought the 'good old' part might've been just a bit sarcastic, then she added, "By way of points Beyond," and I could almost hear the capital B in Beyond. It made me wonder what she meant, but before I could ask she continued, "So, what do you say to that official meetin'?"

  I considered the question seriously for a moment. I couldn't see any possible harm to meeting her in a public place, I was very interested in making some friendly connections in the wider supernatural world, and I was already very curious about Ms. Rhodes herself.

  Was I unconsciously hungry for friends? That was new. Maybe Ken had been right about me becoming a social animal after all.

  "Somewhere in London would be fine," I said after a brief pause. "I don't know where the UNSDI office is, but do you think you can find your way to Harrods? There's a café up on the fourth floor where we could meet in reasonable privacy."

  Something about my question seemed to have amused her, I could hear it in her voice when she replied, "I can find my way anywhere I set my mind to, and privacy won't be a problem. Just lemme write this down…Harrods, you said?"

  "Harrods," I confirmed, nodding unconsciously, "fourth floor."

  "Got it," she said. "When would you like to meet? Sooner is better, my boss really wants to re-establish contact with Oakwood Hall, but please don' say tonight."

  I laughed softly. "No, not tonight. It sounds to me like you should get some dinner and some sleep."

  "Ain't that the truth," she said. "What's your schedule look like? Wanna…'do lunch?' I think that's what they say."

  "I'm free tomorrow, if you'll be awake," I said, surprised to hear myself teasing her gently.

  "Oh, I'll be awake. All right, lunch tomorrow, Harrods, fourth floor."

  "Excellent," I said. "How will I recognize you?"

  "Oh, ya can't miss me," she said, sounding amused. "I stick out. Worst case scenario, I'll wave to ya. Noon?"

  "Noon it is. You already know what I look like?"

  She laughed. "Within ten minutes of bein' reassigned to the London branch and bein' told to make contact with ya. You're already a minor celebrity in the supernatural world, and your star's on the rise. More importantly, you're online. I got a picture of you from your Cambridge network profile."

  "Of course you did," I said in a 'duh' tone of voice.

  "Granted, it's a couple years old, but I'm pretty sure I couldn't miss ya in a crowd anyway," she added. "You're like me. Ya stand out some."

  "I'm not sure that makes me feel any better," feeling just a hint of unease.

  "I'm not sure it should," she said seriously. Then she yawned. I actually heard her jaw crack a little. "Aw, hell. Sorry. Didn't mean t'yawn in your ear."

  I laughed, disarmed again. "It's quite all right. Get some sleep, and I'll see you at noon tomorrow."

  "Harrods," she confirmed, "fourth floor café."

  "Very good. Good night, Ms. Rhodes."

  "Good night, Lady Reid."

  There was a click as she hung up, then I disconnected the speakerphone. I stared at the handset for a moment, then looked around at Ken and Sparkle, sitting across the table from me, and at Penny, who was stretched out in front of the hearth with her chin propped on the bricks and her eyes closed. "First impressions?" I asked.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  "I like the sound of her," Sparkle said. "She has a sense of humor, and doesn't seem stuffy. And her accent is really cool."

  "Her dislike and evident distrust of the ICOA speaks highly for her," Penny said without opening her eyes.

  I was reminded of something I'd read online about foxes being canine hardware running feline software, and smiled. There was something rather cat-like about her behavior at times.

  "I appreciate that she wants to meet on neutral ground," Ken said, "rather than simply showing up here or asking you to go to the UNSDI offices in London, wherever they are. And letting you choose the location, even if she'll have plenty of time to get there ahead of you and check the place out, is a friendly gesture. She wants you to be comfortable."

  I nodded. "I got the same impression. Any other thoughts?"

  "There was something in her voice," Sparkle said, frowning cutely. "She's spent time in Faerie. A lot of time."

  "I thought so too," Penny said, lifting her head and looking over at us. "I don't know West Virginia, but I definitely heard the lilt of the High Sidhe in her accent."

  "That's interesting," Ken said. "Something to be wary of, perhaps."

  Penny nodded seriously. "You should be cautious. I see no reason to believe she is Sidhe herself, but if she's spent enough time around them, she may have picked up some of their worst habits."

  "And we should go with you!" Sparkle said with a firm nod, a statement she clearly intended to be undeniable.

  I smiled. "As if I'd go anywhere without you both."

  Sparkle and Penny both looked pleased, and Penny put her head back down on the hearth.

  Ken nodded. "I'm pleased to hear it. And I approve of this meeting. What I know of the UNSDI is encouraging."

  "Tell me?" I asked.

  "Of course," he said, as if he'd just been waiting for me to ask. "Mind you, I don't know everything, and most of what I do know was gathered by your father."

  I smiled. "Ken, appearances to the contrary, I don't expect you to be omniscient."

  He chuckled and bowed his head for a moment. Then he pursed his lips. "As I understand it, the United Nations Supernatural Defense Initiative was formed in the aftermath of the Second World War. The War…it brought a lot of nasty things crawling out of the cracks and crevices of the world, and they didn't go away again just because the Allies beat the Axis. The UNSDI was put together to try and stuff all of those horrible things back into their respective closets, so to speak.

  "Their senior staff," he continued, "have been around longer than that…clever wizards, natural immortals, and monsters in search of redemption made up a large percentage of their original membership. The general staff - officially called 'agents' - are mostly human, but unlike the ICOA they welcome anyone who wants to help police the supernatural population and protect the human population."

  "That sounds pretty good," I said tentatively. "I sense a 'but' coming."

  Ken tipped his head back and forth and shrugged. "There was a bit of a kerfluffle in the 1980's and 90's. Schism in the leadership, massive purge of the staff. A lot of the field agents they hired were always retired military and paramilitary, but they got a bit…unpleasant for a while. It took until 2004 for the original leadership to get a foot back in the door and reclaim the organization, and another five years for them to rid themselves of all of their undesirables. And, needless to say, it took a good ten years beyond that for them to really start regaining the community's trust."

  "And today?" I asked.

  "Back to their original form, as far as I know," Ken said. "The field leaders, who I met when they visited your parents, are Gabriel and Mikaela O'Connell…he's an immortal of uncertain origin, and she's a half-dragon."

  I'd been staring into the fire, taking the information in and filing it for later expansion and use. At that last bit, my head snapped around to look at Ken. "Half what?"

  Ken smiled. "Half-dragon. Eastern Shenlong, to be specific. Dragon of the tempest and rain. Yes, dragons are real, Eastern and Western. But they're very rare and very reclusive. Odds are extremely good you'll never actually meet one."

  "Okay," I said, itching to know how such a thing was possible and - for now - deciding to chalk it up to magic. I had bigger fish to fry.

  "Their chief of operations is Vlad Tepes -"

  I felt my eyes widen and my head tip as I blurted out "Excuse me? Did you seriously just tell me that dragons are real, and then - while I'm still trying to digest that - inform me that freaking Dracula is real, alive, and helping to run a friendly organization?"

  Ken raised a hand. "On my honor. I've spoken with him on the phone, but never met him in person."

  I huffed out a breath. "Interesting people, then."

  Ken nodded. "At this point in time, I haven't heard anything bad about them in years. They usually try to keep a pretty low profile, very Men in Black, so to speak. But they have a fair amount of firepower to bring to bear, if needed. Assuming that's still who they are, they'd be good allies to have."

  "Noted," I said, looking at the fire again. "That's more than you've really been able to tell me about the ICOA."

  Ken grimaced. "Yes, well…the UNSDI isn't nearly as paranoid, secretive, or exclusionary. They're practically an open book compared to the ICOA."

  I considered that in silence for a long moment. "So, to make a long story short, they appear to be a well-meaning organization and seem to be putting their best foot forward, and it's likely in my best interests to do the same."

  "Very definitely," Ken said.

  "I would agree," Penny said. "I know no more than what Ken just told us, but I feel safe saying they sound better to do business with than my former masters." She practically spat the last word in disgust.

  "I know they've never been mean to fairies, the way some wizards of the ICOA have," Sparkle put in, then sheepishly added, "but that's all I know of them. Sorry, Caley."

  I laughed softly. "That's all right. I get to meet one of them for lunch tomorrow. I'll form an opinion then."

  The next morning I rose early, did some yoga and tai chi on the front lawn in the early morning light, then jogged into town and back without running into D.T.. Or anybody else for that matter. But that was okay…I liked it that way. Just me, Sparkle fluttering along beside me, Penny trotting at my side, and a beautiful dawn.

  There was, in my opinion, no better way to start the day.

  When we got back, Ken had breakfast waiting along with the welcome news that we'd skip my magic practice that morning.

  "I don't want you going into London to meet a stranger tired," he said firmly, as I ate. "I think you're likely perfectly safe with this one, but I'd rather you go fresh and ready for anything that might happen."

  That sounded like good sense to me, so I finished my breakfast, took a shower, then confronted my closet. "How does one dress for meeting the representative of a major power in the supernatural world?" I looked at Ken. "At least, I assume they're a major power."

  He waggled one hand back and forth. "They're not exactly on a level with either of the Sidhe courts, or even with the Wild Hunt. But at this point, I'd say they're more of a genuine power than the ICOA. At least a couple of years ago - I really need to update my intel - most international wizards preferred doing business with and being policed by the UNSDI over the ICOA."

  "About that," I said, deciding that dressing up a little wouldn't be a bad idea. I walked into the closet, half-closed the door, and slipped out of my robe. "I rather got the impression that the ICOA is the major supernatural power in the world. Or at least, in Europe and the United Kingdom."

  Ken snorted. "That's certainly the impression they want people to have, and technically they are. Or were. I wasn't aware the UNSDI had re-opened their London office. The two groups do not get along at all well."

  "I can't imagine why," I said as I slid into panties and a bra, then a pair of pale gray pantyhose. "Have they ever come to blows?"

  "Not literally," Ken said, "but it's been a near thing from time to time. Especially during the late 80's and most of the 90's. The fact that the UNSDI is moving back into England - where the ICOA's seat of power is located - is a definite statement."

  That sounded vaguely ominous. I selected a cream colored, short-sleeved silk blouse, and slid into it, buttoning it up. "Is it wise, making friendly overtures with the UNSDI?"

  "Has the ICOA treated you at all well?" Ken asked rhetorically.

  I rolled my eyes.

  He didn't even need to see me to know what my unspoken answer had been. "Then making friends with the UNSDI is a good idea. Especially since we all like the way they've approached you. Politely."

  "Touché," I selected an A-line, forest green silk skirt and slid into it, zipping and buttoning it at my waist. It just came to my knees, which was exactly what I wanted. I quickly found the vest that went with the skirt and slipped it on, buttoned it up, and located a pair of matching ballet flats with ankle straps.

  Thus dressed, I emerged from the closet and spread my arms. "Well? Am I presentable?"

  Penny was sitting on the end of the bed with Sparkle perched atop her head. "You look lovely, Caley," Sparkle said seriously.

  "Very presentable," Penny agreed.

  Leaning against one of the bedposts, Ken nodded. "A nice balance of elegant and practical."

  "I need a purse," I said, "or a shoulder bag. Preferably the latter."

  Sparkle's eyes widened and Penny blinked in surprise. Ken just smiled and looked past me with a little nod.

  I turned around and found a green leather shoulder bag hanging from the top of the closet door. It was exactly what I wanted…just large enough for the little hard-bound pocket notebook I took everywhere with me now, a couple of pens, my wallet and phone, and a few miscellaneous other things.

  Oakwood Hall, once again providing precisely what I needed. I wondered if it was making these things out of thin air, or getting them from somewhere. But that was a mystery for the future, once I understood magic better than I did now.

  "Thank you very much," I said, placing my hand on the door and concentrating on a feeling of gratitude. In return, I felt a brief flash of satisfaction and pleasure. Then I took the shoulder bag, loaded it up, and slung it across my body to hang against my hip. "Perfect!"

  Ken sighed. "I know I keep saying this, but I do wish you had a staff to take with you. Or any other foci. We really need to work on sorting out your mother's staff."

  "Things have been happening very quickly," I agreed, going into the bathroom to quickly examine my reflection in the mirror. I'd already put on my earrings, and they were - aside from my rings and the choker from which the Master Key hung - the only jewelry I wore. "Do you think my hair looks okay braided, or should I have you put it up in that princess bun again?"

  Ken appeared behind me, and Sparkle fluttered to land on my shoulder. Penny padded in, reared up, and put her paws on the counter so she could look in the mirror too.

  "Hm," Ken said thoughtfully. "I think the bun looks a bit more elegant and formal. But the braid is definitely you."

  "I'd leave it braided," Sparkle agreed with a nod.

  Penny looked from one of us to another, then shook her head and dropped to all fours again. "I don't think I understand hair," she said, and went back out into the bedroom.

  I laughed. "Thank you. We'd better get going."