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  I shape-shifted back into my human form, feeling a bit deflated. Most people consider my display impressive. Maybe Lenny was right, and I had a little too much vanity. “At least now you see you’re not just fantasizing. There is a real threat out there and it’s our job to make it go away. It’s our job to protect you.”

  Now that she had gotten over the initial shock, she was filled more with curiosity than fear. “What kind of cases have you handled? Vampires? Gargoyles?”

  “Vampires and werewolves fall under DIDD; the Department of Infectious Demonic Diseases. They don’t fall under our jurisdiction. Gargoyles do. In the past, we fought some enormous battles. In recent years, there have only been a few incidents, as most of them are detained in the nether realm.”

  “Is the nether realm on another world?”

  “No. It’s right here, all around you, but you can’t see it because the matter and form are different. You know how physicists are always trying to discover the missing matter in the Universe? It’s not missing. It’s just on a different plane of existence.”

  “Can humans enter the nether realm?” The little minx had already pulled out a notepad and a pen. She was an attractive little minx; a little bit tall by the standards of average heights for women, with sun-streaked, wheat-colored hair, a swan-like neck and graceful shoulders. Those shoulders were currently being accented by a wide-necked pullover with cut-out’s at the arms and back. It’s a good thing I’m not a vampire as at this point, I could think of nothing more pleasurable than wrapping my lips around that neck. “It’s not a place you want to go. Humans have been known to enter, but they rarely survive a return. They are too fragile.”

  “But you can enter it?”

  “Of course. All magical creatures can, including shape-shifters, dragons, sprites, elves, fairies and mer-people. In fact, many species were born in the nether-realm and some spend all their lives there. Others cross back and forth through the gates.”

  “If you’ve been here the whole time, what happened? Why do you live in secrecy now?”

  “Millennia or two ago, we all lived out in the open. That was before some of our more aggressive species began preying on humans. The humans then weren’t like the ones we have now. They were cunning. Some learned the ways of magic and how to defeat their enemies. There was a terrible war that nearly wiped out all humans and all fantastic creatures. When it was over, gate keepers were appointed to guard the portals, and the most noble and pure of heart among the shape-shifters were assigned guardians of humanity.”

  “Are you guardians?” She asked.

  Jack, who is inordinately proud of phoenix history as the oldest phoenix line and the most scholarly among us, answered her question. “Our linage traces back to the first guardian who rose up out of the ashes of the Great War. So scorched, his wings glistened like ebony, he became the symbol of hope for both the nether-realm and his native Earth. Later phoenixes rose up in a fiery display, as wars have been won by blood and explosives, but the first was a war of magic and scorched earth.”

  She seemed charmed with his answer and I stifled a small pang of jealousy. Women always did find Jack hard to resist, even when he wasn’t trying to attract them. In this case, however, he seemed as charmed by her as she was by him.

  It wasn’t his fault and it wasn’t hers. She was naturally charming, courageous without realizing she was brave, concerned about the well-being of others, a gracious hostess. I understood why the harpy attacked her. Harpies are envious creatures. They hated women of beauty, grace and intelligence. The chances were good this harpy knew Tanya while in her human form and had built up a grudge against her.

  I cut through the history lesson to get down to business. “We need to set up perimeters around the apartment complex. Lenny, check your data base for shady characters that might be listed at an address within the building or close by.” Lenny immediately pulled out his cell phone and checked through a list that was indecipherable to anyone but him.

  While he was checking, I turned to Tanya and asked, “what do you know about the tenants who live here? Do you know any of them? Talk with them?”

  “Not a lot,” she sighed, drawing up her fabulous legs dripping in shiny, blue silk. “Two doors down, there’s Miss Crandon. She watches everything that goes on, then gossips about it to the neighbors. I don’t think she would make a good suspect, though. She broke her back in a car accident a few years ago. She was hit by a drunk driver. She used to be an insurance agent. Now, she lives off an insurance settlement and plays cards all day.”

  “Who does she play cards with?”

  “There are two middle-aged housewives with empty nests and dying of boredom who live on the next level. Then there’s this seventy-year-old woman who lives at the end of the hall. There are a couple of men, too. Well, a gay couple. They have the apartment on the left.”

  “None of them seem to fit the right profile. You don’t know any of the other tenants?”

  “Only the girl on the top floor. She’s maybe in her mid- twenties. Drinks a lot. Carries around this yappy little poodle. Somehow, we both manage to want to do our laundry at the same time and she starts quarreling over the machines.”

  Lenny looked up from his search. “I can’t really see a harpy carrying around a poodle. According to Black Ops, this place is pretty clean. The last arrest was made three years ago when the landlord complained of a homeless man standing in the laundry room naked, washing his clothes in the sink. Oh, and the girl on the top floor is married to a night-club owner. He’s half-way decent for being half-way shady.”

  Tanya gave me a querying look and I explained to her, “Black Ops is Lenny’s version of a detective’s notebook. It’s his own program, which he synthesizes with police reports and records. He knows every drug dealer, informer, hustler and back alley con-man in town.”

  “And prostitute,” added Lenny. “They are some of my best contacts. There’s one who lives on the third landing. It’s late enough, she would be through with business for the evening, and early enough that she hasn’t gone to sleep yet. I could talk with her now.”

  I nodded. “When you’re finished, go to the top floor and have a chat with the night-club owner. Jamie, I want you to go along. Make sure Lenny is doing everything by the book. These are innocent civilians with no outstanding warrants. I also want you to have a chat with Miss Crandon and her card-playing companions. Gossips have sharp eyes and they’re always willing to talk.”

  Jamie was immediately all-business. He was The Cleaner, the one I could depend on to follow through with every order and do things the right way so there was never any evidence of supernatural forces at work to alert other law agencies or the news media. He was a borderline bureaucrat. Even as a plains clothes officer, he wore a suit standard to his profession; tan slacks and jacket, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar, his badge stuck in his belt. He had set his suit jacket gently over the back of the couch before sitting down. He now picked it up just as gently and slid into it like James Bond.

  Lenny got up more slowly, his fingers still tapping over the keys of his cell phone. He was probably strategizing what to say to his prospective new clients for his information base. He always looked a little disheveled, but it made him blend in more easily with the company he liked to keep. “You handle Miss Crandon, and I’ll take care of the prostitute and night club owner,” he muttered.

  “Don’t split up,” I warned as they went out the door.

  “Are they in danger?” Asked Tanya softly, her eyes wide and concerned. “I don’t want something happening to them because of me.”

  “It’s our job,” said Jack before I could answer. She twinkled up at him again, her emerald eyes flashing. I should have sent Jack to secure the perimeters, but until we were positive the harpy was not in the building, I needed him here.

  “Don’t worry,” I assured her. “We’ve dealt with things a lot worse than harpies. We once dealt with a very nasty, shape-shifting bull. A minotaur, actually. Th
ey don’t often leave the nether-realm, but this one had acquired a strong taste for human virgins. He shape-shifted into a member of the Imperial Guard and became one of the deadliest serial killers in Japan during the early eighteenth century. It took seven months to track him down. When we found him, he had abducted the emperor’s youngest daughter. Lenny was just a baby at the time, so he wasn’t with us. Jamie was still a bit green behind the ears. It was me and Jack against the minotaur. The battle lasted for hours and we were both badly wounded when we finally struck down the beast, but Jamie nursed us back to health.”

  “You were policing before joining NYPD?”

  “We were dispatched. As guardians, we answer to the gate-keepers, who notify us when there is a predator shape-shifter living among humans.”

  “Does that happen often?”

  “Quite a bit. But as long as they don’t break any laws, we don’t pursue them. Some, like minotaur’s and dragons, are endangered species and we really hate to destroy them, so we’re happiest when we can just get them to return to the nether-realm. Harpies and sirens, though. I swear they breed like flies.”

  “Actually, they breed like spiders,” corrected Jack. “They bite the head off their lover once they have finished with him.”

  Tania shuddered. “Thanks for telling me.”

  I glanced at her, then at the clock. It was three in the morning. Dark shadows were starting to appear under her eyes. “You should get some sleep,” I suggested.

  “How am I supposed to sleep after all this?” She cried. Her head had been gradually slipping into a resting position, but now she sat up straight and hugged a throw pillow in her arms.

  “You can sleep right here on the couch. We’ll watch over you. It will be at least a couple of hours before Jamie and Lennie return. Until then, there’s nothing to do except wait.”

  “I’ll just watch a movie,” she said weakly. She flipped through her channels until she found a superhero flick, then settled back with the pillow under her head. Within minutes, she had fallen asleep. I brought out a blanket from her bedroom and put it over her. Her blonde hair spilled over her face and I tucked it back behind her ear. She looked like an angel when she slept.

  Jamie

  I liked seeing Lenny in action. He was like a bloodhound. He had caught the scent of the harpy. He had her under his radar. If she was anywhere close by, he would find her. He went to the laundry room first. It was really too bright and clean for a harpy to lurk, but it contained a janitorial closet. He kicked the closet door open and shone his flashlight inside. If there was a harpy, he wanted to take it by surprise before it changed, but there was no mysterious flickering of shadows, only an empty room. “Clear,” he said, sounding a little disappointed.

  I thought he would interview the prostitute next, but instead said, “let’s check on the roof, first. The nightclub owner could be her inside connection.”

  “Somebody knew her habits. They knew she takes the eleven o’clock subway home. They waited for just the right moment for her to be alone. It wasn’t a random attack.”

  I agreed. “It’s a risky hour. Most subway attacks take place after midnight when the chances of being discovered are much lower. It was the opportunity the harpy had been waiting for.”

  “You don’t suspect Miss Crandon and her company of gossips?”

  Lenny laughed. “Gossips are like bull horns. The first thing Miss Crandon would do would be to tell Tanya all about the stranger who came around asking questions.”

  “And the prostitute?”

  “She wouldn’t know Tania’s hours because she’s not home until after midnight, then sleeps all day. But she might notice if someone has been lurking outside the building.”

  Checking the roof was inside established protocols, so I could see no harm in it. It was a fairly well-utilized roof. There were several large potted plants set around at intervals, a boxed in garden of various herbs, a battered sofa, some lawn chairs and a coffee table, but no sign of a resident harpy. After patrolling the entire surface and checking the streets and alleys below, Lenny suddenly shape-shifted. I looked at him with exasperation. “What are you doing? Someone could see you.”

  “Not at this hour. I just want to scope out the nightclub owner’s place before we enter it. Some of them get real offended about uninvited guests.”

  I stewed, knowing it was completely useless to argue with him. Lenny always was a hard-headed kid, and now he was becoming a bit of a maverick. I believe it was only his loyalty to the team that kept him in order. I watched over the edge of the building as Lenny drifted down on his wings and began hovering around the windows. I groaned as he spotted an open one, slid back the pane and popped inside the apartment. A few seconds later, he came rolling out, a bottle flying after his tail, and a voice shouting, “I told you to get rid of the fucking parrot!”

  He flew in a wide circle, then returned to the roof and shifted back into his human form. “She was awake!” I said accusingly.

  He looked at me sheepishly. “More or less. She was awake, but not very sober. She threw a beer bottle at me,” he added, sounding hurt.

  “Serves you right.”

  We went about half-way down the stairs to the top landing, when I asked, “did you learn anything?”

  “She’s not our harpy. Could be a siren. She’s got bazookas to kill for, but I’ve never seen a siren before so seriously off the wagon.”

  I pressed my lips tightly together, weighing out his information. “Let’s put her on the suspicious list. If she’s a siren, she could be helping the harpy, even if she’s enjoying her human life.”

  The suspicious list meant we weren’t going to interview her, just keep a special watch on the upper landing. A siren and a nightclub owner were a bad combination. If the harpy discovered we were on her trail, she would cover her tracks so well, not even Sherlock Holmes could find them. We couldn’t risk a drawn-out search, not with innocent lives at stake.

  It was still early enough in the morning to interview the prostitute. She fitted the profile Lenny had given perfectly. She answered the door in a terry-cloth robe and a towel wrapped around her head. She looked annoyed at first, but when she saw we were policemen, not clients, her face relaxed and she invited us in.

  Her home was completely middle class. There was no sign of drugs or alcohol, extravagant furnishings or carelessly thrown underclothing. The humble dwelling was neat as a pin, with even the remains of a properly set breakfast still on the table. She gave us a friendly smile. “What can I do for you officer?”

  I thought of several things she could do if I had been in a more lascivious mood. At age thirty, she was just hitting the prime of life, her striking cheekbones more pronounced, the beginnings of womanly wisdom developing in her eyes, but when I’m on a case, I’m all business. I smiled back. “We’re just investigating a complaint about a stalker and trying to trace her movements. She was last seen in this neighborhood. Have you noticed anyone unusual lingering around the building?”

  “An unusual woman?” Her mouth quirked at the ends. “Define unusual among women, Officer…” She read my tag. “Johnson.”

  “One who looks like she doesn’t belong here. She may have a fondness for dark, shadowy places, like the corners of the porch or the alleyways.”

  “That’s considered unusual in New York City? Half the town lives in the shadows.”

  Lenny leaned forward. “This one keeps some unusual hours, which is why we were hoping you might have seen her. You don’t come home until two or three in the morning, when the rest of the neighborhood is sleeping.”

  Her smile disappeared. “Are you spying on me?”

  Lenny let loose with one of his big, boyish grins. “No honey, we’re not the vice squad. In fact, I like a bit of vice myself. I’m fond of gambling at the pool tables, you know? Lost my pants a few times. But when you’re shooting pool, you hear things and from what I’ve heard, you’re a classy girl who has been trying to put herself through college.”


  “I want my business degree. I’m good at math. I work downtown because the money’s fast, but when I come home, I put it behind me.”

  “You would tell me if you’ve seen anyone hanging about the building at three in the morning?”

  “I would, but I haven’t. An occasional drug dealer, a few romantic teenagers. That’s all I see when I come home.”

  Lenny reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a card. “If you do see anyone, phone me right away, would you?”

  She nodded. “You bet. Stalkers are creepy. Who is she stalking?”

  “That’s classified information. Don’t worry, though. You’re safe.”

  Our interviews with the card-playing bunch didn’t yield much, either. We learned that one of the tenants was an avid stamp collector and hung out by the mail boxes all day, waiting to see if anyone had a stamped letter, then asking for the stamp. We learned that the people who went up on the roof liked to sunbathe in the nude and that one of the apartments harbored a run-away teenager who was hiding from her third set of foster parents. We didn’t learn about any lurking strangers.

  When we returned to Tanya’s apartment, she was sound asleep on the couch. Jack was dozing in the desk chair, and Daniel was sitting at the table with a laptop. “Is that Tanya’s?” I asked.

  He nodded. “She said I could borrow it. I wanted to do a quick rundown of the websites she’s visited in case one alerted a coven. She was pretty good at hiding her personal information, but some of the questions she asked at the forums were sensitive. The Bear Clan was offended.”

  I sat down next to him. “Everything offends the Bear Clan. You can’t really blame them. They have a bad rep, yet they’re still guardian shape-shifters. They would never join an alliance with harpies.”

  “It’s not easy defending the woodlands. What did you learn?”

  I told him about the unexciting lives of the tenants and our suspicions concerning the nightclub owner’s wife. “It wouldn’t be the first time a harpy and a siren have helped each other,” he agreed. “Nor the first time a siren has taken up a life of ease as a human. They are very fond of luxuries, good food and strong drink. If we catch her aiding and abetting though, her luxurious life is over.”