Freya nudged my hand with a wet nose, then barked, loud and insistent. ‘Quiet, pup,’ I said, patting her head, as if she were just the dog she was pretending to be.

Hugh nodded, adopting his blank-stone cop’s face. ‘Yes, we’ve got better things to do than look for Maxim.’

The puppy shook like she was shedding water, magic prickled over my skin, and then Freya took her human shape. Her blonde hair was gelled into spikes, the tips still dyed green like her fluff-ball fur, school tie pulled loose round her neck, and her overlarge white shirt messily tucked into her maroon skirt. A backpack appeared slung over one shoulder; she dropped it to the ground with an irritated thump.

I’d asked her once what happened to her clothes when she was a dog; she’d shrugged, saying whatever she was wearing just went away, and then came back again, and wasn’t that what happened with everyone?

I squashed a pang of envy. So what if she could change into a dog, and back again, complete with magically reappearing clothes, without breaking a sweat, despite the fact she was a faeling, not a full-blood fae, with a mix of sidhe, fae, vamp and human blood. Much like myself, who couldn’t do anything with magic other than crackit, absorbit like some freaky sponge, or use it ready-made, and who didn’t even get to keep the cool vamp powers. I wasn’t jealous of her, exactly, but maybe of her and everyone else’s abilities. And I had to wonder why she, an eight-year-old kid who was sort of my niece, ended up with magic powers and I didn’t.

Freya clenched her hands into fists. ‘Granddad Max didn’t do the things you said! You’ve got to look for him! He’s in trouble!’

Chapter Thirty-Eight

‘What makes you think Granddad Max’s in trouble?’ Hugh asked, his gravelly voice matching his stony expression.

‘Because he was scared!’ So there!She didn’t say it but she didn’t have to. It was in the jut of her chin.

‘Scared of what, Freya?’

‘The werewolves, of course.’

I leaned forwards. ‘Did Granddad Max tell you they were werewolves?’

She pulled a face. ‘No. I heard you all talking. Granddad Max couldn’t tell me what they were.’

‘You mean he didn’t tell you,’ I said.

‘No, Aunty. I mean he couldn’t.’ She huffed. ‘I asked him. That’s what he told me.’

‘Freya,’ I said gently, ‘just because he told you he couldn’t, doesn’t mean he didn’t know.’

‘It does! Granddad Max doesn’t tell lies. Or not much to me anyway. I can tell.’

Nice qualification!

Hugh leaned forward with interest ‘How can you tell?’

She sniffed in an attempt to play it cool, but her blue eyes sparked with excitement now she had our full attention. ‘I can smell when he lies, like I can smell when the girls at school lie too. And when Mum does; lies smell like burned toast.’ She folded her arms, daring us to not believe her. ‘And I can smell when they’re scared.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘That smells like dead fish.’

News to me. I wondered if her senses were better because of her dog shape, her vamp genes, or both. I patted the stone rim of the fountain next to me. Freya gave me a wary look, obviously wondering if sitting would commit her to something she didn’t want, so I raised my brows. She glowered and plonked herself down.

‘Okay,’ I said, bumping her shoulder gently with mine. ‘I get that Granddad Max was scared, but if he didn’t know who was coming, how did he know to be frightened of them?’

‘He had a dream about it. It woke him up.’

Dreams. Right. ‘What sort of dream?’

She shrugged. ‘He didn’t tell me. Just said he knew they were coming for you, and he had to warn you.’

‘Then why the h—eck didn’t he tell me that,’ I asked, feeling another urge to wring Granddad Max’s neck.

‘He didn’t know where you were, did he? That’s why he got me to phone you.’

‘Why didn’t he phone Genny himself?’ Hugh asked.

She gave him a scornful look. ‘Duh. He’s a dog. Dogs can’t use phones, can they?’

Duh indeed. ‘So why couldn’t you have told me that when I first asked you?’ I asked.

‘Granddad Max said I had to stay furry ’cos it’s easier to run away with four legs instead of two.’ She rolled her eyes to show what she thought of that idea. Not a lot. ‘And when I’m furry I don’t smell so much like you. He didn’t want them getting me by mistake.’

I frowned. ‘You smell like me?’

‘I drink your blood every day, don’t I?’

Duh again.

‘Granddad Max said the less we told you, the quicker you’d get here. And that he couldn’t guard you till you were here.’

‘Max wanted to guard me?’ Surprise sparked in me. Then I got it. The last text Malik had sent me. When the irritating vamp had dumped me. He’d said: Maxim is tasked to put your needs above all others, including himself.

I looked at Hugh. ‘She’s right. He was trying to protect me.’

‘I told you he was,’ Freya grumbled.

I gave her a hug. ‘I know you did, thank you.’

‘So you’re gonna look for him, aren’t you?’ she said suspiciously. ‘Now I’ve told you everything?’

I nodded. ‘Yes.’

‘Even though you said you wouldn’t?’

‘I said we wouldn’t if he was helping the baddies.’ Which it didn’t seem he was.

‘We’ll make sure he’s looked for, don’t you worry.’ Hugh smiled at Freya. ‘So lies smell like burned toast, fear smells like dead fish, is there anything else you’ve picked up that might help us?’

She gave him a look from under her lashes. ‘When people have sex it smells like coconuts.’

Hugh’s mouth opened, then closed again. His ruddy cheeks coloured with embarrassed heat.

‘Behave,’ I muttered. ‘Hugh was asking if you’d smelled anything today that might help us find Granddad Max, like if you caught any of the baddies’ scents?’

She looked out over the square, her nose twitching. ‘The bird that dropped the Snake spell smelled like Uncle Jack.’

‘Uncle Jack?’ Hugh asked, just as a woman’s voice shouted, ‘Freya!’

I jerked my head up. Ana was rushing towards us as fast as her huge baby-bump would let her. Despite her hurried waddle, she looked cool and elegant in a sleeveless dress, her pale blonde hair falling in a sleek waterfall to her hips. Relief filled me at the sight of her, despite her elegance making me feel hot, dusty and in need of a shower. But then she hadn’t spent the morning getting up close and personal with the floor at the zoo, followed by a tussle with a rose-wielding Werewolf Guy and a snake-spitting hawk.

‘Mum,’ Freya shouted loud enough for the whole square to hear, ‘Granddad Max’s been kidnapped.’

Of course, I’d rather do all that over again than have to deal with an obviously frantic, ready-to-pop-any-day-now, desperately angry Ana.

She sank into a crouch in front of Freya, pulling her daughter to her protectively. ‘Are you all right?’ she said, patting the squirming Freya.

‘She’s fine,’ I said soothingly.

Ana shot me a frightened, furious look. ‘Why was Maxim here, Genny? You know he’s not to come anywhere near Freya.’

As I opened my mouth to try and explain, Hugh said gently, ‘Ms Fossel, perhaps we could have a word?’ He rose to his feet. Thanks, Hugh, I thought, grateful. ‘I’m sure you could use a nice cup of tea,’ Hugh rumbled quietly, indicating the café. ‘Shall we?’

She looked as if she were going to object, then rose and clutched Freya’s hand. ‘If you insist, Inspector.’ She jabbed a shaking finger at me. ‘And you, keep Maxim away from my daughter.’

‘Muuum?’ Freya wailed. ‘Granddad Max is in trouble!’

‘Maxim can look after himself.’ She pulled on Freya’s hand and turned.

I watched them walk to the café, understanding why Ana was angry – the vamps had tortured and killed her mother (my half-sister) and she was terrified they’d do the same to her and Freya. Still, it hurt she blamed me instead of Mad Max, her vamp father; he was the one who’d got Freya involved.