Shaded Vision: An Otherworld Novel

by Yasmine Galenorn

  Hanna reached for the breadbasket, but Roz jumped up and took it from her. “Let me help you.” He touched her arm, lightly, as he took the breadbasket from her and set it down on the table. She gave him a shy smile, and he returned it. It was almost as if…no…they couldn’t be sleeping together. Could they?

  Roz was an incubus; he wasn’t capable of sticking to one woman. But then again, Hanna didn’t seem interested in settling down, either. In fact, she was learning new traditions, trying to adapt to a world unlike any she’d ever seen before.

  I gave Camille a long look and flickered my gaze to Hanna and then to Roz. She furrowed her brow, took a quick peek at both of them, then lightly shook her head at me. But she was smiling.

  As we finished dinner, Menolly entered the kitchen. We filled her in on everything that had happened during the day while we helped Hanna clear the table. Afterward, while Hanna and Marion started on the dishes, Morio pulled out the computer and called up the blueprints.

  While he was fiddling with them, Menolly floated up to the ceiling—she liked life at the top of the world. “Asteria won’t even think of discussing the spirit seals?”

  I shook my head. “We expected Queen Asteria to shoot down our concerns. She’s going to do whatever she wants. Even if it fucks up the portals further, there’s not much we can do about it. And really, what can we do? Steal the spirit seals back and hide them…where? They’re probably safest where they are right now.”

  Camille paced back and forth, gesturing toward Menolly. “The problem is, they aren’t being protected—not the way she promised. When we took her the first one, Queen Asteria promised to hide them away, to keep them under lock and key. If they’re out and about, they could be targets.”

  “And again—what can we do about it?” I paused, not wanting to bring up a sore subject, but we had to address it. “What about Father?”

  Menolly cleared her throat. “So you say our dear pater is on the outs with Tanaquar? She must have found another lackey who’s more useful. But I’m surprised she didn’t just add a paramour. It’s not like we’re naturally monogamous.”

  Camille ignored her, turning to me as she shrugged. “What about him?”

  “Do you…did you want to talk to him?”

  “Just because he’s no longer dipping his wick in Tanaquar’s pussy? You think that because she dumped him, I’m going to be all touchy-feely? That I’m going to excuse what he did? Until he comes begging me to forgive him, until the day he admits he fucked up and that he’s sorry, you can bet our father isn’t getting a free pass from me.” She dug in the cupboard and pulled out a box of cookies, biting into one before tossing the package to me. Obviously this was the wrong avenue of discussion to focus on.

  “Right.” I caught the Oreos and pulled out a handful, passing them around. “Let’s focus on tonight. Morio’s got the computer ready. Let’s plan out our raid.”

  We gathered around the computer.

  “Okay, somebody has to stay home. We need Morio and Camille together, for their death magic. And Smoky and Shade. I’m going, and Menolly.” I looked around. “That leaves Chase, Trillian, Vanzir, and Rozurial.”

  Menolly shrugged. “With the extra guards, I’d say we can get away with just Trillian and Chase here. Chase, would you mind hanging out for the evening?”

  Chase let out a sigh. “Always the babysitter. Ah well, I haven’t seen Maggie for a while. And if a call comes in—if somebody blows something else up—I’m going to need to head out anyway, so sure. Trillian, you up for a game of chess?”

  Trillian rolled his eyes. “I can beat you with one hand tied behind my back, Johnson.”

  “Bring it on.” Chase lifted Maggie out of the playpen and cuddled her as Trillian started to set up the chessboard on one corner of the table. Maggie pinched Chase’s nose and licked his face. He laughed and tickled her tummy and then sat down with her in the stove-side rocking chair and began to sing a lullaby to her.

  The rest of us went over the plans. The Energy Exchange had several hidden rooms in the back, as well as the connections to Underground Seattle. It was hard to tell from the schematics whether they had cordoned off a part of the underground tunnels for their private use, but it seemed likely.

  Morio pointed out the route to get there, which ran through parts of Underground Seattle. Back in the late 1880s, a glue pot caught on fire and the resulting blaze destroyed twenty-five city blocks. When they went to rebuild, they decided to (a) build out of stone and brick rather than wood and (b) regrade the streets one to two stories higher than they’d been. The resulting tangle created a maze of buildings; some that had escaped the blaze were now two stories belowground, reachable only by ladders. So as the new roads were built, the businesses relocated to the new street level and what had been the storefronts and streets now existed hidden, below the main city. Part of the labyrinth was still reachable via an underground tour, but a great deal of Underground Seattle had been forgotten, left to the Supes who made it their home.

  “So, do we go in the front or come in from below?” Morio asked.

  “If we go in the front door, they’ll have time to escape.” I stared at the plans. “The only thing is…the ghosts. We may have to face ghosts down there again. Ivana Krask couldn’t have gotten all of them. Could she?” I turned to Menolly.

  “No. She got the ones around the area where we were chasing the serial killer, but that was it. I doubt if she’s been back down there on her own.” She glanced at Morio. “You okay with going back there?”

  Morio shivered. “I admit it, I’m not that thrilled about the idea, but I’m not about to shy away. I’m not going to panic.”

  Vanzir was leaning against the doorjamb. “We should take Shamas. He’s a sorcerer.”

  “Good thinking. He should be home soon, but I’ll call him.” Camille crossed to the corner where she could phone him without our chatter interfering.

  “So, we go in from below. We sneak through the tunnels, come up the back way. Which means we’ll get a chance to see their dirty secrets first. But we have to be prepared for guards.” I held up Lysanthra. My blade shimmered and sang to me. She was sentient, alive, and tingled in my hand. The longer I’d been a Death Maiden, the stronger my connection with the blade had become.

  Menolly glanced at the clock. “We should head out. Any word on Shamas?”

  “He’ll be here by the time we’re out to the cars. He was just turning into the driveway when I called.” Camille pulled her hair back in a ponytail. She was wearing an Emma Peel catsuit, with a leather bustier over the top and a short skirt that wouldn’t impede her movement. Her ankle boots were grannies, laced up, with kitten heels.

  I’d changed into a pair of well-worn jeans that bent easily with my movements, and a V-necked tee, over which I pulled a denim jacket. My boots of choice were a pair of steel-toed hiking boots. Menolly wore her usual black jeans and long-sleeved turtleneck, and Doc Martens.

  The guys were decked out in their usual fare; Roz flashed us with his freshly stocked duster, and it looked like he had a bunch of new toys in there.

  “I swear, you’re a walking time bomb. Someday, someone’s going to piss you off and you’re going postal on them.” I picked up the printouts of the Energy Exchange. “I guess we’re ready. Let’s go.”

  Camille, Menolly, and I stopped to kiss Maggie good-bye. “Take care of her, Johnson,” I whispered as I tousled the fur on her head.

  “Come back, Delilah…all of you.” Chase gave me a solemn nod.

  As we headed out the door, I stared into the darkened sky. The rain had let up, but it was threatening to return. A sliver opened in the clouds and a single star shone through. I held on to the glimpse like a lifeline. A promise that this time, we’d all make it through unscathed. Superstition? Maybe. But sometimes wishing on a star was all we had to hope for.

  The drive down to the Energy Exchange was quiet. We took Morio’s SUV and Camille’s Lexus. Morio drove Shade, Vanzir, Menolly, and me
. Camille took Smoky, Roz, and Shamas. We had decided to go in from a block away. There was an entrance to Underground Seattle near there. It looked like an old sewer grate, but it actually led down to the tunnels.

  We’d come prepared this time with gloves. The rungs were iron and would hurt Camille and me. Iron burned Menolly, too, but she’d heal from it a lot faster than we would. But with thick fleece gloves, we were able to climb down the ladder into the tunnels without a problem.

  Underground Seattle was a spooky place, filled with cobwebs and memories of times long gone. The tunnels were cool and damp, and they smelled like an old tomb—musty with a tang of mildew. The floor and walls, unlike the sewers, were brick and wood, with nooks that had once been the basements of shops. We’d gone down two stories in this area, a good fifteen to twenty feet.

  I flipped on the light that was clipped to my belt. We’d discovered a delightful mountaineering store with all sorts of wonderful gadgets, including belt lights, rope as strong as the rope made out of spidersilk, and other goodies. Roz had taken a buttload of money down there and gone wild a couple of months back, and now we had gear out the wazoo.

  The passages were narrow in this area. I took the lead with Shamas and Menolly; behind us came Camille and Morio, then Smoky and Roz. Shade and Vanzir brought up the rear. We started down the passage, cautious not to touch the sides of the walls. There were viro-mortis slimes down here, and while the green variety was a nuisance, the purple could kill. Trouble was, neither was easy to see and clung to the walls just waiting for victims to put their hands, or any other body part, against the bricks.

  I nervously glanced to the right and left, keeping an eye out for any ghosts. The shadows that hung out in Underground Seattle were dangerous and usually pissed off. Glancing over my shoulder, I said, “Camille, can you or Morio sense any supernatural activity here?”

  We paused while she, Morio, and Shade lowered themselves into trance. After a moment, Shade’s eyes flew open.

  “Incoming behind us! Something, though I’m not sure what. It’s from the Netherworld, all right.”

  We turned just in time to see a woman come running toward us. She was translucent, a look of horror splashed across her face. She looked like she was screaming, but no sound came out of her mouth and she raced through us—a cold breeze rattling by as she ran on ahead. Suddenly, she stopped, turned, and flailed. It looked like something had grabbed her around the waist and tossed her over its shoulder, though we couldn’t see what was carrying her. The girl reached out, a knife in her hand, and slit her own throat. As the blood began to pour, she faded from view.

  “What the fuck was that?” I was still cold from her passing through us.

  “I don’t know,” Shamas said. “But let’s go look where she disappeared.”

  We stopped where she’d faded, and I knelt down, aiming my light toward the ground. There, on the bricks, was the stain of dried blood. It didn’t look terribly old, either. I glanced around. Off to one side, something caught my eye. A knife—it looked like the one that the girl had been holding.

  “Well, we know she was real. And that her spirit hasn’t rested.” There was an alcove near me, and something was sticking out of it. I peeked in, cautiously, just in case it was a bloatworgle or something equally noxious. But it was a body, probably dead for around three weeks. And it was our girl.

  I leaned down to examine her. “I wish we had a corpse talker with us. She hasn’t moved on, she’s still here.”

  Shade looked over my shoulder. “She was a Were. I can see her astral form still around the body. A werewolf.”

  “Crap. But they don’t capture female werewolves for Wolf Briar.” I shook my head. “I have no idea what they were doing with her, but I’ll bet you anything that she was kidnapped by Van and Jaycee for some reason. Maybe prostitution, maybe just to have a little…fun…”

  “We can’t do anything for her. See if she had any ID—that way we can let her family know—and let’s get moving.” Morio turned to Camille. “Let’s prep a protection spell for the group.”

  While they prepared their spell, I gingerly hunted through her pockets and found a wallet—it was a small clutch, with a checkbook in it. I eased it out of her skirt pocket, wincing as I tried to avoid the decomposing flesh. Opening the purse, I glanced at the name on the checking account. Clarah Rollings. I flipped through the contents of the wallet.

  Thirty-two dollars in small bills. Fifty-seven cents. A picture of Clarah—I thought it had to be Clarah by the spirit we’d seen—hugging another girl who looked a lot like her. Maybe a younger sister. They looked so happy it made my gut hurt. And—a driver’s license. Clarah Rollings, all right. I tucked the license, the money, and the picture in my pocket. The gods willing, we’d at least have these things to give back to her family. And we could come back to pick up her body when we were done with the bar.

  “That’s all we can do here. Let’s move.”

  Re-forming ranks, we headed down the passage. As we neared the area leading into the tunnels directly below the club, we came to a wall stretching across the passage.

  “Looks like somebody decided they wanted some private space.” Shamas moved forward, looking at the wall, but not touching it. He motioned to Morio, who joined him. “Can you find any traps, or maybe, the entrance?”

  Morio examined the bricks. “The trigger to open the secret entrance is down here, but I think there’s something…stand back.” He moved to the side and held out his hands. With a soft whisper, he flexed his fingers as pale blue light began to emanate from them. It clung to the wall, creeping across the bricks like a misty cloud. As it reached the central point in the wall, a crackle of sparks raced through the fog, and the scent of sulfur filled the air.

  After the light cleared, Morio examined the wall again. “It’s clear now.” He reached down and a soft click sounded. An entrance appeared as a secret door swung open.

  “We’re in,” he said, moving back to his place beside Camille.

  Shamas and I took the sides of the doors. We peeked around the corner, and—surprisingly—saw a string of dim lights running along the artificially lowered ceiling. The passage was empty, and so we cautiously entered. I motioned for Vanzir to close the door behind him.

  “They could have built a level between the basement of the club and where we are.” I kept my voice low, just in case the place was bugged, or in case somebody came down from above.

  “Want to make a bet it’s not a pleasure palace?” Camille muttered. “Okay, we head up the ladder. While we’re climbing, Morio and I won’t be able to cast a spell, but we have a protection charm prepped and we can cast it now. It should give us protection unless someone interferes. If we’re attacked, it will break since we can’t concentrate on it while we’re on the ladder, but there will be a few seconds lead time.” She shrugged, smiling grimly. “Some protection is better than nothing.”

  We all nodded.

  “What do you need us to do?”

  Camille motioned for us to stand at an arm’s length apart. “It’s simple, just close your eyes until we tell you to open them.”

  As Morio moved in back of us, Camille took the front. They moved as a pair, arms out, down the line, energy racing around us, from Morio’s hands to Camille’s, and back again, creating a circle. I closed my eyes, but the crackle of magic was unnerving. I could feel it tingle as it slid over my body, into my lungs.

  They began to singsong back and forth in a counterpoint, low chanting on the currents of air, but powerful enough to make my skin crawl.

  “Spirits of water, spirits of earth…” Camille’s voice was rich, like sloe gin, throaty and warm.

  “To our spell come forth, give birth…” Morio echoed back at her, soft-spoken and smooth.

  “Spirits of fire, spirits of air…”

  “To all unwelcome, beware, beware…”

  “Spirits of the Netherworld take heed…”

  “Hear us in our hour of need…”


  “Circle ’round, protect, defend…”

  “Until this spell breaks and ends…”

  The passage seemed to take a deep breath, and then Camille asked us to open our eyes. We couldn’t see any difference, but the feel of magic was there, saturating the air. Shamas’s eyes were bright, sparkling, and he stared at them, his expression flickering between envy and admiration.

  “We’re ready. Let’s go.” Camille stepped back into place, as I motioned for Menolly to take over the lead, followed by me, then Shamas, and then the others in order. Menolly would be the least vulnerable if somebody was waiting up top.

  The rungs led into a narrow vertical passage. As we climbed, I saw that there was, indeed, a second level before reaching the street. As I stepped onto the landing that led to a metal door next to the rungs continuing up, Menolly had her ear pressed against the steel, trying to catch any sound coming from within.

  “All I can hear is a shuffling behind the door.”

  Once we were all crowded on the landing, I checked the lock while Shamas held a light on it. Easy to pick—obviously they didn’t think anybody would be coming through their barricade below. I pulled out the set of lock picks I carried around everywhere I went, and within seconds I had shimmied the pins. With a soft click, the door opened. Holding my breath, I pushed it open and Shamas and I slammed through.

  The room was long and wide, lined on both sides with cages. Three held prisoners—men, manacled to the walls. They were in pain, and two were frothing at the mouth. There was no doubt in my mind they were werewolves. When they saw us, they rattled their chains and tried to lunge forward, but the manacles only gave them a lead of a few inches from the wall.

  “Crap. We have to shut them up so nobody hears them.” As I scanned the rest of the room, I was relieved to see nobody else around. Shade made sure the door was shut behind us and leaned against it, just in case someone tried to come in.