Changeling on the Job: A Changeling Wars Novella by A.G. Stewart Read Free Book Online Page B

Yes, he could potentially gain more power—but what did he want to do with that power?
    “So what’s stopping our cloaked friend from grabbing another mortal off the streets?” Anwynn said. Behind us, the bushes rustled as Kailen set his ward.
    “That’s easy,” I said, assuming a confident tone I didn’t exactly feel. “You. And me.”
    “The dynamic duo?” Anwynn raised one doggy eyebrow at me.
    I lifted a hand and chopped it through the air, adopting a singsong tone. “I’m faster than lightning. You’re very, very frightening. Together, we will, I don’t know, something that rhymes with lightning.” I ventured another glance at my hound and found her regarding me with the sort of uncertainty she usually reserved for salads. I sighed. “Don’t tell me you don’t watch Saturday morning cartoons. I can hear them from my room, you know. It comes right through the vents. Something about ponies?”
    Anwynn looked away. “They look tasty, is all.” She cleared her throat. “So what’s next? Back to the house where I most assuredly do not have my own television?”
    I pulled my cellphone from my back pocket. “No. It’s time to use one of my lifelines. It’s time to call a friend.”

CHAPTER FIVE
     
    MAYBE “FRIEND” WAS A BIT GENEROUS. Officer Gomez didn’t sound pleased to hear from me. “You again,” she said. “What?”
    I supposed I couldn’t blame her. The last time we’d had contact was back when Grian had decided to lay siege to the jail. “Listen, I just need a little information. Don’t get annoyed—I need to know if anyone’s called in any reports of small flying…um…people, lately?”
    “Goddammit, Nicole!” Gomez shouted into the phone. I held it a little ways out from my ear. “I thought you were supposed to keep a lid on all that stuff?”
    “Think about it. Most of the doorways are in Portland, and that’s a hundred forty-five square miles. Your bureau employs about a thousand police officers. A thousand police officers for a hundred forty-five square miles, and one little, itty-bitty me for the Fae side of things.”
    The phone was silent for a moment. “You memorized how many square miles Portland is?”
    “Well, how else am I supposed to keep track of what’s where, how much land I need to patrol, and how many days that takes?” I said, exasperated.
    “Fine,” Gomez said. “I’ll check.”
    For a moment, all I heard was the crackle of her breath, rustling papers, and the tapping of keys. “Yeah, there’s been something recent. Past hour—someone called in a sighting up in Kenton.”
    “Thanks,” I said, and hung up.
    “That’s sort of a large area,” Anwynn so helpfully pointed out.
    “And I didn’t almost become lead sales representative at Frank Gibbons Inc. by being stupid or disorganized.” I strode to my car, opened the door, and popped open the glove box. I didn’t need to look to know that Anwynn was rolling her eyes. That starts to happen once you live with someone for a little while.
    A paper map of Portland sat nestled inside the glove box. I pulled it out and unfolded it on the car hood. I had a bigger, brighter, more color-coded one at home. This was my travel size.
    People had been reporting the souring milk debacles on neighborhood message boards, on consumer complaint websites, and even just on various blogs. Anywhere I could get a location or even a vague one, I’d marked it on my map.
    I checked Kenton. There were several hits there, all concentrated on the same block. “Reconnaissance,” I said, pointing out the spots to Anwynn. “If Mr. Cloaky is looking for another victim, he’s going to nab him or her from this spot.”
    Anwynn only yawned. “Are we leaving, then, or what?”
    “Nicole.” Kailen emerged from the bushes next to Chris’s house. Normally, that should have made anyone look creepy, but Kailen looked like he’d stepped from a cologne advertisement. “Can I speak to you for a moment?”
    I should have