The Hallowed Hunt: A Wild Hunt Novel, Book 5

by Yasmine Galenorn

  “I don’t know, but you should probably tell Herne.” Angel motioned to the break room. “I think he just went in there.”

  I picked up my plate. “Thanks, chica. This could help us figure out her motive, and if we have a motive, it makes it easier to find the person.”

  Herne was in the break room, along with Viktor. He glanced up when I entered.

  “Ember, can you call everyone in? Viktor’s back from interviewing Grimspound.”

  I set my plate down, heading back out to the front desk. “Meeting. Lock the elevator and come on in.” On the way to the break room, I peeked into the office Yutani and Talia shared. “Meeting in the break room.”

  We gathered around the table, everybody carrying their lunch, and settled in.

  “We’ve got to stop meeting this way,” Talia intoned, vamping for us.

  I snorted. “Yeah, trust me. Angel and I never get to go out to lunch anymore.”

  “Deal with it,” Herne said, snickering. “Okay, so Viktor, go ahead.”

  Viktor had just served himself up a big plate of spaghetti and garlic bread, and he carried his plate to the table and sat down. He took a big bite of the pasta, moaning softly as the savory sauce hit his tongue, and then, after swallowing, he cleared his throat.

  “That is delicious. I want the name of the restaurant.”

  “Roma’s—down the street and around the corner. They deliver,” Angel said, breaking off another piece of bread.

  “Thanks. All right, I interviewed the Fomorian. Trust me, Ember, you would not want to have been there. He’s an asshole in every way possible, and then some. But I can tell you this, he’s not part of this Tuathan Brotherhood organization, not unless I’m reading him way off. Neither is he part of Elatha’s brood, from what I can tell.”

  “How do you know?” I asked.

  “He’s been living in Seattle for twenty-three years, and Elatha didn’t arrive till this year. He’s also a pacifist and a follower of Savisanism.” Viktor rolled his eyes.

  I groaned.

  “What’s Savisanism?” Angel asked.

  “Savisanism’s an esoteric cult that was started by a monk named Savisa, about sixty years ago. Savisa’s one of the Fae and he turned his back on the Fae conflict, preaching tolerance and a live-and-let-live attitude,” I said.

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  “Nothing, until you start charging your followers a thousand dollars a year just to belong to the movement. Those who want to become his guardians, as he calls them, are those who can afford the ten-thousand-dollar initiation fee, and their yearly bill skyrockets to five thousand.” I shook my head. “It’s a scam. Well, not in that they profess to be one thing and turn out to be another. To maintain your place in the Savisanism movement, you have to keep your nose clean and avoid bringing disharmony into the group. But that’s a lot of money just to be told to keep your nose clean and be open to differences.”

  “How do you know so much about it?” Herne asked, a curious look on his face.

  “One of my mother’s friends, a shifter woman we used to know, was into it. She was always bringing pamphlets over, trying to convert my folks. I just ignored her, though I swiped a couple of the pamphlets once and read them. They were filled with a bunch of buzzwords and generic affirmations.” I laughed. “And for every person you bring into the fold, you get a small percentage of the initiation fee. In other words, a finder’s fee.”

  A lightbulb seemed to go on over Viktor’s head. “That’s why he kept pushing me to come check out the meetings with him to make certain he was for real. He was hoping I’d join and he’d make himself a little payday.”

  “No doubt. So our Fomorian is a Savisarian? Then it isn’t likely he would have anything to do with the bombing.” I frowned. I had wanted to be right on this, desperately so. I was disappointed. I had to admit it. It would have been so tidy for Mica to be involved. I was still angry at the Fomorians for what they had done, and I would happily turn them over for whatever we could pin on them. But if he wasn’t involved in anything underhanded, I couldn’t pretend he was. At least I was reasonable about it.

  “Yeah, I don’t think so either. Grimspound is arrogant and pushy, but he’s no killer. The movement may be shady, but he firmly believes what they teach. And he insists that nonviolence is at the root of the organization.” Viktor tossed his notes on the table. “I asked him what he was doing there. Turns out he lives in the apartments above the bank and was on his way to work. He heard the explosion as he drove down the street and says that he didn’t want to get in the way of emergency vehicles. He called the cops when he got to work, and that checks out with their reports.”

  “Well, another dead end.” I frowned. “On Eleanor’s case, I have another lead.” I told them what I had found out, along with Angel’s mention of the C-section scar. “Is there a way to check for children—little girls, probably—who either were kidnapped and killed over the past, what…ten years? Might as well include those who had an accident or went missing?”

  “I can run some files,” Yutani said. “It will take me a few minutes, but I might be able to come up with something for you.” He began tapping away while the rest of us dug into our lunches.

  Angel raised her head. “Somebody’s asking permission to come in. The elevator is locked. I’ll be right back.” She slid out from her chair and dashed back to her desk.

  I broke off another piece of bread to mop up the leftover sauce, and then frowned as Talia, who was sitting opposite me, stiffened. She was staring at the door behind me.

  “I didn’t know you were already in town,” she said, slowly standing.

  From behind me, a voice—a melodic woman’s voice—answered. “That’s because I knew if I gave you much warning, you’d find a way to put me off.”

  Angel sidled back to her chair. Swinging around the other side of the table, another woman appeared. She was gorgeous, but there was something to her looks that told me that she was wearing some sort of illusion. Tall, statuesque, almost regal, the woman had hair the color of platinum, and her eyes were an arresting gray. She wasn’t young, nor was she old, but she had a sense of timelessness. She was wearing a pink pantsuit, and looked far too Barbie for comfort.

  She approached Talia and stood beside her chair, staring down. “Aren’t you going to welcome me into your place of business, sister?”

  As we watched, Talia slid her chair back and stood, staring at the woman. After a moment, she turned toward the rest of us. “Excuse my manners. I’d like you to all meet my sister, Varia. Varia, don’t be shy. Introduce yourself.”

  And with that, Varia let her illusion drop and there, in the flesh, stood a living, breathing, harpy.

  The next moment, Varia reclaimed her illusion, but not before we had seen her true nature. She had been massive, a good seven feet tall with flame red hair and brilliant blue eyes. Her head, breasts, torso, and arms had been those of a woman, but her lower body had reminded me of a massive vulture, and her wings had been folded in back of her.

  Herne was the first to react. “Varia, welcome to the Wild Hunt Agency. I’m Herne, son of Cernunnos. I run this place.”

  She accepted his hand graciously, nodding as she took it. “Lord Herne, well met.”

  Talia quickly recovered her tongue. “Varia, allow me to introduce the others. This is Ember, she’s one of our investigators. And Angel, our receptionist. Yutani, our IT wizard, and Viktor, another one of our investigators.”

  Varia nodded at each of us in turn. “I knew you wouldn’t see me if I asked in advance, even though I told you I was planning on coming out. So I thought I’d just drop in and surprise you.”

  “Won’t you sit down? Viktor, grab another chair,” Herne said, offering his own chair to Varia.

  She gracefully sank into the seat, putting her designer bag on the table. She looked around, then cleared her throat. “I assume they all know your background?”

  Talia nodded, looking wary. She still hadn�
��t held out her hand or made any move to welcome her sister. “Yes. What you have to say can be said in front of them.”

  “Well, then, I have what I imagine will be welcome news. I’ve been tracking Lazerous for years now, and I know where he is. He actually lives about forty miles from here—and if you like, I’ll go with you and we’ll force him to return your powers.”

  With that, Talia let out a cry and ran out of the room.

  Chapter Ten

  Varia looked at the rest of us, clearly surprised. “I thought she’d be happy for the information. We can force him to return her powers. I’m certain she had no idea that he was camped out so near to her. I’m not sure why she’s upset.”

  I glanced at Herne and he motioned for Angel and me to follow Talia. We slipped out of the break room, shutting the door behind us.

  “Well, that certainly was a showstopper to lunch,” I muttered as we headed to Talia’s office. She had slammed the door behind her, and now I tapped on the door, peeking inside.

  Talia was sitting in a recliner, staring out the window, her expression bewildered. “Is she still here?” she asked, leaning forward as we sat down on the sofa under the window.

  “I’m afraid so, and she seems thoroughly perplexed as to why you didn’t jump for joy at her offer.” I paused. “Can you really get your powers back from a liche?”

  She shrugged, looking like she’d rather be anywhere than here. “I don’t know. I had no clue that Varia had been tracking Lazerous, or that he was over here now. I tried to forget about him. Sometimes, it’s better to leave the past in the past.”

  “But if you can, don’t you want to try?” I could understand her not wanting to face him, but surely she had to try if the chance was there?

  Talia let out a grumpy sigh. “I don’t know. All I know is that my mother drove me out of our home when my powers were drained, and neither of my sisters did anything to find me or help me for, what…a thousand years or more? Finally I left the country and had no clue of what happened to any of them. I learned to relegate them to my past and leave any thoughts of them there. I’ve been who I am now for…I don’t know…hundreds of years. I don’t know if I want to go back to being a harpy.”

  Just then, Yutani stuck his head in the door. “Get back in the break room, all of you. Now.” It wasn’t a request.

  We hurried behind him to find that Herne had the local news site running. A live feed was coming through. Varia was nowhere to be seen.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, but Herne motioned for me to be quiet.

  “In a case that has apparently gone unremarked on by police, the Q-14 News Team has uncovered threats of a serial killer preying on children in Seattle. According to our source, the Angel of Mercy has abducted and killed three young girls so far, and a fourth is missing. The children—all girls around two to three years old—have gone missing on the twenty-second of each month since July and their bodies have been found about ten days to two weeks later. In talking to Timothy Wochosky, the father of one of the missing girls, we learned that the Wild Hunt Agency is on the case, since the police have been unable to locate the killer—”

  “Crap! What the hell did you tell him this morning?” Herne turned to me. “We do not need this. If the killer thinks that we’re on to her, then she may dispose of Eleanor in order to skip town.”

  I crossed my arms, glaring back at him. “I told him nothing more than we were looking into the case. I was afraid of this, though, given his demeanor. He and his wife are at each other’s throats. He’s riddled with guilt because he fucked the killer.”

  Talia did a spit-take with her tea. As she wiped her mouth and the table with a napkin, she said, “What did you say?”

  “I said, Tim Wochosky is nursing one hell of a bruised ego. He’s a reluctant member of AlkaNon, and he blames his wife for making him go. He thinks he can handle the booze, but he can’t. He fucked little Miss Angel of Mercy, as the newscaster dubbed her, and while I didn’t outright tell him that she’s the killer, he’s smart enough to put two and two together. I’m pretty sure this gives him the ammunition to blame his wife for his daughter’s death, because his wife pushed him to join the group, and that’s where he met Nadine. Or whatever her name of the month is.”

  “And he slept with her?” Herne asked.

  I nodded. “Yeah, he did. I don’t know if his wife knows about that part.” I shook my head. “He was a powder keg set to go off, and I guess my visit just lit the fuse.”

  “Okay, let’s go on the assumption that the killer has seen the newscast. I don’t think we can safely assume anything else. What’s she going to do?”

  “Did they mention anything about the connection to the AlkaNon groups?” I scrolled down on the news site, looking for a written transcript of the story. As I skimmed through it, I was relieved to see that they hadn’t mentioned the connections to AlkaNon. That would be the last thing we needed.

  “Talia, contact the station and ask them to please coordinate with us before releasing any further information on the case.” Herne turned to me. “I’m sorry I yelled. I wasn’t expecting that surprise and it threw me for a loop. We need to go visit Menhir Ryma’s wife now. But we can talk about ways to mitigate the damage that report may have done on the way.”

  “What do you want us to do?” Viktor asked.

  “I want you to talk to Erica. See if you can find out who leaked the report to the news. It was likely Wochosky, but there may be someone on the force with a grudge. Yutani, start a search for this Nadine person. Look through old cases of missing children, especially if they vanished on the twenty-second of the month. If any of them were little girls, especially blondes, we need to know. And if any of them had a mother whose first name begins with an ‘N-A,’ we want to know.”

  He glanced at Talia. “I’m sorry, but I asked your sister to contact you later. We don’t have time to deal with her right now.”

  “That’s fine with me,” Talia said. “I’m not prepared to answer her, anyway.” Her phone rang and she glanced at it, then let it go to voice mail. “And right on cue. One thing about my sisters, they’re stubborn as hell and they have no tact.”

  “Well, tact or not, tell her to talk to you on your own time.” Herne motioned to me. “Let’s get moving.”

  I grabbed the lightweight jean jacket I had worn, since my leather jacket had yet to be replaced. “I’m ready. I’ll get my purse.”

  “Meet me by the elevator.” He bundled together a couple case files and headed toward the front.

  I turned to Talia. “You going to be okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m just a little shaken. But at least this buys me some time to process everything.” She let out a long breath and headed back to her office, Yutani right behind her.

  I waved at Angel and Viktor, then headed toward the elevator where Herne was waiting. He took my purse from me, slung it over his shoulder, and then we were off, down the elevator, through the lobby, and into the parking garage.

  “How do you want to handle this?” I asked in the car. “I’ve talked to victims’ families before, but never to someone this close to grief and so hard hit by it.”

  “First, never assume. His wife may be a rock. Hopefully, she’ll be able to do more than just cry.” Herne sounded more brusque than usual. I knew that Varia’s visit had shaken him as well, given how close he was to Talia.

  “Aren’t you being a little harsh?” I asked. “The woman just found out her husband blew up a credit union, a gym, and an apartment building, killing a couple dozen people and injuring far more. I’m thinking we’ll be lucky if she’s even up to crying.”

  He sighed, his hands on the steering wheel, then turned to me. “I know I sound like an ass. I’m sorry. The news report rattled me, as did Varia’s appearance. She’s up to no good. None of Talia’s family has given a damn about her since she lost her powers. I don’t trust Varia. And Cernunnos is pressuring me about the Tuathan Brotherhood. Apparently Saílle and Névé are pressur
ing my mother as well. On top of this, we’ve got a little girl who’s missing and I feel we can’t give adequate attention to her case, but the cops aren’t going to be prioritizing it right now, either. We need extra legs, you know?”

  “Why not call in help? Is there anybody you can ask to come in? I’d say Kipa, but Cernunnos has him on the road already.”

  Herne shrugged. “Kipa would be a help. I’ll talk to Mother. Anybody else you can think of?”

  “What about asking Raven if she can contact the little girls’ spirits? She’s a bone witch. She might be able to get some information.” I wasn’t sure if Raven could conjure up anything, but it was worth a try.

  “It’s an idea, though I’m rather hesitant to disturb the spirits of dead children. I suppose we could put you undercover in a few AlkaNon groups—attend a couple different meetings a day until you catch sight of our kidnapper and then follow her home from there.” Herne started the ignition and eased out of the parking garage.

  “That’s not a bad idea, but my guess is that once she has a child, she lies low until she needs to go hunting again. I pray I’m wrong, but I doubt if she’ll surface again until she kills. Plus, I’m not a shifter and she only targets shifters.”

  I stared out the window. The clouds were banking up and it looked like we were due for a nasty storm. I could feel it building inside me as well, and I knew that I was responding not only to the weather, but to the approaching ritual.

  “I wonder…” I paused.

  “What?”

  I shook my head. “Nothing. I was just thinking about my Autumn Stalker—the Autumn Bane side blood. That part of me understands the hunt—and hunters. And Nadine or whatever her name is, well, she’s a hunter. She stalks her prey. She knows how to catch them.”

  “How would you start?” Herne asked, casting a glance my way.

  “I think in order to train the powers, maybe I need to talk to someone who understands my nature. My grandfather and father are dead, and my grandmother is dead as well. So I suppose, I need to find someone in the Dark Court. Maybe a relative. Possibly I can ask Marilee to guide me on a personal journey again.”