On the Prowl

don’t know what we’ll find at the auction house. I cannot afford the drain of a prolonged glamourie.”
    Tanet caught my eye in the mirror and grinned, his teeth as red as his hair. He rolled his eyes at Heidar and shook his head. Tanet could understand a little English, but so far he spoke about the same number of words of my language as I did of his—roughly five. But he got his point across.
    “We aren’t going to find anything if we’re in jail!” I said. The delivery van in front of me lurched forward a few yards, and I followed on its bumper. Heidar’s congregation jogged after us, their vehicles abandoned in their wake.
    Alma, looking ruffled and with a tear in her blouse, reached us first. She shoved a card in Heidar’s face. “My business number is on the front, but wait—let me give you my home number, too.” She started searching frantically in her purse for a pen. “Call me anytime, I mean that!” I noticed her wedding ring and wondered how much her husband would appreciate getting a midnight message from a male client, but the thought didn’t appear to faze Alma. Or maybe it simply hadn’t occurred to her. She looked pretty bemused.
    “The human authorities are the least of our worries,” Heidar intoned darkly.
    “Fine. Explain that to the cop who’s two cars back,” I told him, wondering if it was time to cut and run. I really could walk faster than traffic was moving.
    Alma’s hand brushed Heidar’s as she scribbled down her number, and that slight touch seemed to seriously up the amplitude on her fascination. She started trying to crawl through the window, but Steve jerked her away. A couple of matronly ladies in a nearby Volvo began craning their necks to see what all the commotion was about and I got a sudden vision of us besieged by love-struck grandmas.
    “Damn it, Heidar, help me!”
    “What seems to be the trouble here?” One of New York’s finest had pulled up beside us and was attempting to see inside the car. Tanet had just torn off another rat’s head in the backseat and was crunching it contentedly. I let my head fall forward onto the steering wheel.
    “We require assistance,” Heidar told the policeman.
    “Yes, sir! And what can I do to help?” I looked up to find the policeman staring at Heidar with the same look of slavish devotion everyone else seemed to be wearing.
    “The vehicles do not move,” Heidar explained, gesturing at the long line ahead of us.
    “I’ll see what can be done about your problem, sir!” The cop strode away like a man on a mission and remounted his motorcycle. I watched in complete bewilderment as he turned on his siren and started clearing a path through the crowd, ignoring the fact that Heidar continued to hold court with a growing number of admirers in the middle of the bridge.
    “Do the damn glamourie,” I whispered, as the two old ladies in the Volvo began blowing him kisses.
    I’d barely finished speaking when the florist van ahead of us suddenly burst its seams, engulfed by large climbing vines that broke through the back doors and grew upward from the undercarriage. As if that wasn’t enough, a flood of hothouse blooms exploded out of the back, slapping us with a rain of rose petals that made the car’s automatic wipers switch on.
    I turned them off, and shot Heidar a look.
    “You have two magical natures now,” he reminded me. “Your power is subsequently greater.”
    “So?”
    “I, er, overcompensated.”
    We’d discovered that Heidar’s dual nature was the reason my power hadn’t originally had much effect on him. The human part of him had blocked it from reaching his Fey magic, but now that my Fey half was out and about, he was having some of the same problems that everyone else did. It was only one of a number of issues in our new relationship, most of which involved families who cordially loathed each other. I was still hoping for a fairy-tale ending, but was starting to suspect we’d have to work for it.
    We inched around the destroyed van with the help of our new police escort, who also insured that we reached the auction house in record time. He sat on his motorcycle, scratching his head and looking around uncertainly. He was probably wondering what we were doing at a dilapidated warehouse on the Brooklyn waterfront without so much as a nearby deli to explain its allure. I stayed in the car until Heidar worked his magic on the man’s mind and he left happy. Then Tanet and I piled out onto the