by Vered Ehsani
“Koitalel,” I murmur the name of the warrior-prophet of the Nandi. Now I know it’s a dream. Koitalel is dead, murdered by a traitor.
“I am and yet I’m not,” he says. My confusion must be obvious, for he adds, “Dead. I am and am not.”
“Because that makes sense,” I say.
The skeleton army begins to approach the house, the clacking of their bones muted by the dream state.
“Do you remember when last we met?”
I huff a laugh. “Of course. It was here, the night you attacked us with this army.”
He smiles, a gentle, compassionate expression. “What else happened that night?”
I rub my arms even though I have no sense of cold or warmth. It was only a few months ago, yet I struggle to recall the details.
“Why was I here?” he prompted.
“Because…” I gasp. “This is the night Grace was born.” Turning, I point a shaking finger at him. “You were here to steal her from us.”
“I was here to save her from you.” His tone is soft, his smile tender. “I warned you.”
As if his words are the key, the memory unlocks itself. I hear Koitalel’s words from that night whispering around me: It is for the best. I do not wish her to be harmed in this battle that you will surely lose. And even if we do not defeat you tonight, how will you raise her among the People of the Fog? Their ignorance creates fear which fuels their hate. They will turn against this child once they see what she truly is.
The memory fades, and Koitalel clears his throat and asks, “Do you see now why I wanted to take her? Your aunt will not be the only person confronted by Grace’s differences. Not all will be as forgiving. And now they know. They know about Grace and Emma. They are coming for them, Miss Knight.”
“Who?” I demand even as I realize that I already know the answer.
Koitalel places a hand on my shoulder, his deep, brown eyes filling my vision. Nodding, he voices my thoughts: “The Society for Paranormals is coming for your children. Wake up, Miss Knight. Wake. Up.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
“BEATRICE,” A FRANTIC voice bellowed. “Wake up. Damn it. Where’s Dr. Ribeiro? Fetch him now. Bloody hell.”
The cursing reassured me I wasn’t dead, and that Simon Timmons was by my side. Lacking the energy to explain I was still alive, I groaned.
“Beatrice!”
My ears buzzed with the verbal onslaught, adding to the general malaise weighing down my body. What was wrong with me?
“Emma,” I moaned, trying to open my eyes and check her energy. “The babies. Protect them.”
“Hush, don’t try to move,” Simon said as he brushed a hand across my cheek.
“I’m not moving,” I slurred as I tried to sit up. “The Nandi prophet was here. He came to warn me. He—”
“Sitting up constitutes movement, Beatrice,” Lilly said from my other side. “Good grief, you know how to cause a scene, don’t you? Fainting away like that. What were you thinking?”
“I object,” I said, my eyes finally opening into slits. The world was a blur of torchlight and swirling fabric. “I didn’t faint. I… Lilly’s ridiculous shoes caused me to miss a step. That’s all. I stumbled.”
Simon chuckled. “Of course you did, dear. She’s fine. Still—”
I gasped as my wolf appeared in front of me, its vividly shimmering form now clearly visible to anyone with the ability to see phantoms.
“Beatrice,” Simon began, his voice low, just as Lilly exclaimed, “Your wolf.”
My wolf energy loomed over us, its brightness filling my vision. Its lips pulled back into a toothy snarl before it spun around and raced toward the house.
“Drew!” Cilla shrieked from somewhere behind me.
Tiberius dashed past us, shouting, “Mr. Timmons, your assistance now, please. Drew, no!”
“Lilly, stay with Beatrice,” Simon ordered before running after Tiberius.
“Not likely,” Lilly muttered and began to stand.
“Don’t leave me,” I wailed.
While my vision was still blurry, I could almost feel her eyeball roll as she stuffed her hands under my armpits and hauled me into a vertical position. Propping me up, Lilly turned to some of the guests who had clustered around my fallen form. “She’s fine, just a little overexcited.”
“How preposterous,” I muttered. “My energy just ran off. I couldn’t possibly be excited.”
Ignoring me, Lilly addressed the onlookers, “Please carry on to the buffet. That’s it. Enjoy the reception. No, she’s perfectly fine or as fine as she can be. Thank you for your concern.”
Father appeared before me, his expression strained. “Beatrice—”
“The babies,” I spluttered. “Save them.”
“Grace,” Lilly gasped and pushed me into Father’s arms.
“Help her,” I said as I grabbed at his shoulders.
To his credit, Father didn’t question or hesitate. Scooping me into his arms, he ran after the others at human speed. Once we were screened from public by a hedge, he sped past Lilly and swooped through the house. A commotion led him to the nursery.
“Grace,” Lilly screamed behind us as she entered the corridor.
A werewolf howled in response, followed by the shriek and hiss of a Popobawa.
“Tiberius, your wings will crush us,” I complained as a giant bat wing blocked our view.
Still carrying me, Father pushed past Tiberius’ wing. Cilla and Simon were pressed against a wall beside the changing table. Drew in werewolf form paced before the crib, joined by my wolf energy. Both of the wolves were snarling, hackles raised.
On the ground underneath a broken window was a large rock surrounded by shards of glass. Grace was nowhere to be seen.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“NO,” LILLY WAILED and flung herself past us. Ignoring Drew, she collapsed against the crib, leaning over it as if Grace might be hiding in the blanket. “Where is she? My baby. Where…”
Her sobs mingled with the keening from the giant bat and a howl from the werewolf. Muted laughter and music from the reception mocked us.
“Father, close the door,” I said as I summoned my wolf energy to me. Reluctantly, it leaped into my hand. “You can put me down now.”
A hand reached for mine; Simon swallowed hard, glancing at my midsection as if to confirm Emma was still with us, although I would probably have noticed if someone had abducted her. His grip tightened when Lilly collapsed onto the ground. Cilla kneeled beside her and hugged her. Lilly’s head flopped against Cilla’s chest.
“We’ll find her,” I promised, a terrible fire burning my throat, my stomach, my very blood as I envisioned what I’d do once I found Grace’s kidnapper.
A knock interrupted my dark imaginings.
“Go away,” I blurted out as I gestured to Tiberius and Drew to shift. Neither one of them paid me any attention.
“Open up, little girl,” Koki drawled. “I have something to show you.”
Father complied to reveal Koki, her form draped in flowing red fabric. Smirking, she glanced down at a bundle in her arms and then up at the Popobawa. “Well, Tiberius, what a doubly proud day for the Elkhart and Timmons families.”
Rubbing the bundle, she added, “I believe this is yours.”
The bundle squirmed, wiggled and flapped two bat wings that were as big as the baby-sized body.
“Grace,” I breathed just as Tiberius lunged at Koki, fangs exposed. His large wings banged against furniture.
A wide smile wreathed his face as Father plucked the baby Popobawa from Koki’s grasp. “Why, little Grace, aren’t you a clever girl?”
The small demon bat sniffed, her elongated nose crinkling and twitching. Her wings flapped as she shifted into her human form.
“Thank heavens,” Lilly said, her voice a mere whimper as she stared wide-eyed at her baby.
“Heaven had nothing to do with it,” Koki said as she leaned against the doorframe. “I found her flying around
the goat roast which, by the way, smells divine even if it is overcooked.” Studying her long nails, she sighed. “Why humans insist on cooking their meat is beyond me.”
Simon rubbed a sideburn, the scratching of skin against hair audible in the moment of relieved silence. “But someone was here and up to no good,” he said, gesturing to the broken window.
Tension once again crackled through the room as we all studied the evidence: someone had forcibly entered the nursery.
“Koitalel warned me the children are in danger,” I said through a constriction in my throat. As I struggled to remember the details of my vision—for what else could it be?—I was unpleasantly interrupted.
“Cilla!” a strident voice echoed down the corridor from the front door. “Where are you?”
“Oh, dear,” Cilla said as she assisted Lilly to stand. “It’s Lady Sybil.”
“Of course it is,” I said, tapping my fingers on the changing table. “Father, her wings. Grace still has her wings.”
Koki grinned, closing the door behind her. “How thoroughly entertaining.”
“Cilla,” Lady Sybil called, her heeled shoes clicking on the stone tiles as she marched through the house. The sound of doors opening and closing accompanied her. “Abandoning your guests is highly inappropriate. Are you having second thoughts? I don’t blame you, not in the least. But that’s no excuse for running off like that.”
Wobbling, Lilly continued to clutch at Cilla. “Tiberius, shift now.”
“Where are you, child?” Lady Sybil demanded, her voice louder. “I don’t appreciate having to talk to myself, although at least I’m assured of a clever response. Cilla, come out this minute.”
Bones snapped as Tiberius complied, his black suit still intact.
“Cilla, is that you?” Lady Sybil asked, knocking on the nursery door. “I may be old but I’m not deaf, you know.”
“Drew,” I said, kneeling down to his level. “You, too.”
Drew growled and snarled but refused to change.
“Cilla, I’m coming in,” Lady Sybil’s voice easily pierced through the wood. “I’m giving you the count of five to sort yourself out. One…”
Tiberius hugged Lilly to his side with one arm and held Grace with the other. At least they were all in human form now, although I didn’t trust Grace to control herself. And why didn’t she fold her wings away? The light brown bat wings fluttered behind her as she snuggled against Tiberius’ chest.
“Two…”
Simon had shuffled around the edge of the room and was now squatting beside Drew.
“Drew,” I whispered, “she can’t see you like this.”
“Come on, brother-in-law,” Simon urged, placing his hands on either side of the werewolf’s head.
“Three…”
“There’s no time,” Lilly said, her voice still wobbly from her recent shock. “Just stuff him under the crib. The dressing will hide him.”
“Four. Really, Cilla, I’m not impressed. I’m far too old for these shenanigans.”
Father assisted Simon to push the reluctant werewolf under the crib. The decorative frills draping down along the edge of the crib did a splendid job hiding the beast. Tiberius snatched up the baby’s blanket and covered Grace’s wings.
“Five,” Lady Sybil announced just as Simon and Father leaped up in front of the crib, Cilla clutched her hands under her chin, Lilly and Tiberius hugged Grace a little too tightly, I collapsed into the rocking chair, and Koki opened the door.
Glancing around at the scene, Lady Sybil clicked her tongue against her teeth, her nostrils flaring as if she could scent deception. Staring up at Koki, she huffed. “What’s she doing here?” Staring at each of us in turn, she added, “For that matter, what are any of you doing in here? And Cilla… Are you praying? Well, I’d be too if I was in your position.”
Koki leaned against the wall, arms crossed, as she eyed Lady Sybil. “So you’re the one causing all the fuss,” she purred.
“We were merely admiring their baby,” I blurted out as I gestured to Grace.
“And wondering when I should be so lucky,” Cilla added, stepping forward to distract Lady Sybil from peering too closely at the squirming offspring.
“Good heavens,” Lady Sybil exclaimed, a wrinkled, heavily veined hand clutching over her heart. “Let’s not talk about such travesties, shall we? It’s thoroughly inappropriate for polite society.”
Koki shrugged. “Good thing she can't accuse any of us of being polite.”
Grace wiggled and hissed. I dared to glance over; her eyes were solid black. She was about to shift again.
“Indeed,” I said, pushing myself out of the rocker as gracefully as a baby hippo on land which was how I was feeling just then. That, and hungry enough to eat a hippo. “Babies are terribly overrated, aren’t they? Shall we return to the festivities?”
I reached for Lady Sybil’s arm but she stepped back. “Don’t think for one moment you can distract me so easily, young lady. Something’s amiss, and I intend to learn who, what and why.”
“What about when and where?” Koki asked, chortling as she did.
“Koki,” Father warned.
Bestowing on Cilla a piercing stare, Lady Sybil clicked her tongue. “Really, the manners of the native servants are abominable.”
Pushing away from the wall, Koki snarled. Father glided around Lady Sybil and stood before Koki, unmoved by her threatening expression. “We should all leave now,” he said, his voice calm and melodic. “I’m sure Mrs. Elkhart wishes to put her baby to sleep. It’s quite late for a child to still be up and about. Wouldn’t you agree, Lady Sybil?”
Sniffing, Lady Sybil lifted her chin but didn’t turn to look at Father or the murderous she-demon glaring at her neck. “Indeed, I’ve always asserted that children should never be up and about past supper. How is one to digest one’s food with little ones running amok?” Nostrils flaring, she clicked her tongue and huffed, “The lawlessness of this household is truly insupportable.”
Drew growled softly, the tip of his gray tail sliding from under the crib.
“You have no idea,” I breathed out, trying to catch Simon’s attention.
“Well, darling,” Tiberius said, forcing a smile and pointedly not looking under the crib. “We’ll all leave you to it then.”
“Thank you, dearest,” Lilly replied, her cheerful tone as equally inauthentic. “I’m going to do just as Lady Sybil has suggested.”
Snorting, Koki muttered, “And I’m going to go before I kill someone.” Twirling around, she stalked out of the room.
“Shall we?” Cilla asked, lowering her hands and reaching for Lady Sybil’s.
Frowning, Lady Sybil half-turned and stared at the doorway. “Did that African say she’s going to kill someone?”
I laughed; it sounded strangled and maniacal. “How absurd. Of course not.”
Simon smirked. “She said she’s going to go before she’s ill on someone,” he explained and waved his hand around the nursery. “She’s claustrophobic.”
“But where’s your husband?” Lady Sybil insisted as Cilla and Simon escorted her out the room. “I demand to see the vagabond.”
“He’s nearby,” Cilla said, her voice faint but her grip on her great-aunt firm. “I promise he is.”
I closed the door once they were down the corridor, then sunk back in the rocking chair, my stomach grumbling. “If Koki doesn’t kill her,” I muttered, “I just might.”
Grace giggled in agreement right before she turned into a bat.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“KOITALEL WARNED ME this would happen,” I said as Grace flew around the room.
Lilly sagged in Tiberius’ arms as she watched her offspring. “Who’s Koitalel?”
“The Prophet of the Nandi,” I explained, rubbing my temples. My stomach rumbled again as I detected the heady scent of the goat roast. “He warned me that night the skeleton army attacked us. And again, when I… um, stumbled.”
“
Fainted,” Tiberius corrected with a small grin as he watched his daughter fly overhead.
Glaring at my half-brother, I conceded the point. “Fine. I fainted. And in that pregnancy-induced, hunger-aggravated condition, I had a vision. Koitalel told me the Society for Paranormals is coming for our children.”
Father straightened up from where he was attempting to lure Drew out from under the crib. “He told you this?”
Nodding, I gestured to the rock under the window. “It seems to be true.”
“Prof. Runal,” Tiberius growled.
“He’s no longer the Director of the Society,” I said, shaking my head. “He hasn’t been for a while. They banished him to this place. And besides, no one outside of our circle knows what Grace is.”
“That we know of,” Tiberius corrected me, his fine, dark eyebrows crunching together. “We’ve been careful but if Koki can use birds as spies, why can’t others?”
I rubbed the goosebumps on my arms. Tiberius was right: just as Prof. Runal had used ghosts and other entities as spies in London, he or anyone else could do something similar here. And perhaps we hadn’t been as careful as we should have with Grace.
“Why not just use the front door?” Lilly asked, wiping at her nose with a sleeve.
“The wedding guests are on that side of the house,” I said as I joined Father. “We would’ve seen the person. Come on, Drew. We can’t have a werewolf sleeping under the crib. What would Nurse Manton say?”
After a bit of cajoling, Drew crept out and vigorously shook himself. A streak of smooth, shiny black flickered under his muzzle against his gray fur.
“What’s that?” I said as I kneeled beside my brother.
Holding my breath to avoid inhaling the scent of wet canine—a werewolf’s natural body odor—I rubbed his head with one hand and lifted a piece of fabric with the other. A corner of the material was snagged in his teeth.
Tugging the fabric free, I stood and rubbed it between my fingers. “Light wool, most likely from a pair of dress pants. It seems Drew managed to catch hold of our would-be kidnapper.”
