"Is that a threat?"
"Think of it as a warning." The air moved between us like heat rising off a road. Her eyes swirled like miniature whirlpools.
Maybe I should have shown her my gun. "Don't threaten me, Dorcas. I'm not in the mood."
The magic seemed to seep away like water running into a crack in the rocks. You knew it was still there, below the surface. But for someone who had been threatened by werewolves and vampires, she paled in comparison. Magnus seemed to have most of the talent in the family. On the scale of scariness, Magnus was up there.
"Just so we understand each other, Ms. Blake. If you tell the police and they let loose the creature, the deaths will be on your head."
"Alright, I'm impressed; now tell me about it."
"Did Magnus tell you about our ancestor, Llyn Bouvier?"
"Yeah, he was the first European in this area. He married into the local tribe. Converted them to Christianity. He was also fey."
She nodded. "He brought another fey with him."
"A wife?" I asked.
"No, he had captured one of the less intelligent fairies. He imprisoned it in a magically constructed box. It escaped and slaughtered nearly the entire tribe we're descended from. He finally managed to contain it with the help of an Indian shaman, or priest, but he never regained control over it. The best he could do was to imprison it."
"What kind of fairie did he bring over?"
"Bloody Bones isn't just the name of our bar," she said. "It's short for Rawhead and Bloody Bones."
My eyes widened. "But that's a nursery boggle; why would your ancestor want to capture one? They don't have any treasure, or wishes, to give out. Or am I wrong on that?"
"No, you're quite correct. Bloody Bones has no riches or gentle magic to grant wishes."
"Then why capture it?"
"Most children born of human and fairie blood don't have a lot of magic."
"That's what the legends say," I said, "but Magnus proves that wrong."
"Llyn Bouvier made a sort of pact for himself and his descendants. We would all have fey power, at a price."
She was dragging this out, and I was tired. "Just tell me, Ms. Bouvier. The suspense is getting irritating."
"Has it ever occurred to you that this might be embarrassing for me to admit?" she asked.
"No; if that's the case, I apologize."
"My ancestor imprisoned Bloody Bones so he could make a potion of its blood. But the potion had to be remade periodically, retaken, or his magic deserted him."
I stared at her. "How did the other fey take this little idea?"
"He was forced to flee Europe, or they would have killed him. It is forbidden among us to use each other like that."
"I can see why."
"His barbaric act gave us glamor. Power. But it was still purchased by blood, Ms. Blake. After Rawhead and Bloody Bones was imprisoned, my ancestor gave up his potion. He finally saw it as evil. Though his power faded, his children had the power of fairie in their blood. So here we are," she said.
"So you've got Rawhead and Bloody Bones hidden in some magic box somewhere?" I asked.
She smiled, and it made her face seem suddenly young and lovely. I had no way of judging her age. I couldn't see a line on her face. "When the magic failed the first time, Rawhead and Bloody Bones grew to its full size. It is bigger than a person, almost as big as a giant. It is imprisoned in a mound of earth and magic."
"You say it nearly wiped out an entire tribe way back when?"