“Crap. The fallout from that can’t be good.”
“Things were at a standstill until Menolly stepped in, told Father to go home and Smoky to chill. But definitely Not Pretty. Not at all.”
“A mess, all the way around, then.” Chase morosely picked up his champagne flute and downed the last of the sparkling wine. “And so . . . here we sit.” He stared across the table at me, his gaze unreadable. “I don’t know what to say, Delilah. I don’t even have a clue on how to start.”
Part of me wanted to cry. Nothing seemed to be working out the way we hoped it would. The world had gone to hell in a handbasket for all of us. I blinked back my tears.
“How about you start by telling me how you’re doing? We’ve only talked three times in the past two weeks.” I didn’t mention that we’d barely kissed since he’d healed up and returned to duty.
Chase contemplated the question, looking at me through those limpid, soulful eyes. They’d only grown more luminous since he’d drunk the Nectar of Life. His aura had shifted. Some spark, some force I couldn’t put my finger on, was changing him.
“How can I answer that, when I don’t even know? What am I supposed to do? Jump up and shout, ‘Rah rah, now I’ll outlive everybody I’ve ever known in my life’?” He slammed the goblet on the table so hard it almost broke.
Stung, I blinked back the tears. “Giving you the Nectar of Life was the only option we had—unless you prefer the thought of dying.”
Shifting in his seat, Chase let out a long sigh. “Yeah, I know. I know. And believe me, I am grateful. But damn, this stuff does a number on your head. It’s more than the realization that I’m going to live a thousand years. There’s something . . . nebulous . . . about it. The nectar ripped open a part of me—I feel exposed, unable to put the pieces back together again. And I’m afraid to look too deeply at what’s happening.” He slowly reached out and took my hand.
I stared at him for a moment, but he remained silent. Both Camille and Chase had come through the autumn equinox worn and weary, covered with blood. Camille had bathed in the blood of the black unicorn as she sealed a fate with which the Moon Mother challenged her: sacrificing the horned beast to his phoenixlike destiny while on the Hunt of her life. And then she’d been thrown under the wheels of Aeval, and would soon be forced to descend into the realms once ruled by the ancient Unseelie Queen.
And Chase . . . no less life-shaking. He’d been bathed in his own blood and was now—by human terms—practically immortal.
“Whenever you’re ready to talk about it—”
“What? You’ll play shrink to the mutant?” He shot me a nasty look.
“No. I’ll listen. As your girlfriend.” I stared at him, the virulence of his anger rankling me. “Chase, this isn’t fair. We’d planned on you drinking the nectar anyway, and now you sound like you’re blaming me for what’s happened.”
“I know! And I’m sorry—I don’t mean to. But you told me that the ritual required preparation, and now I understand why. I’m not human anymore. I don’t know who—or what—I am. A thousand fucking years to look forward to, and I have no idea what to do with them.”
Fed up and too tired to deal with his angst as well as my own, I pushed back my chair. “I guess . . . it’s hard for me to understand what you’re going through. I’m trying—I really am. But until you can figure it out, you don’t seem to need me around.”
“Wait! It’s just . . . oh hell, I don’t know what to say.” He slumped back in his chair. “I want to say that everything’s okay. I feel like I should be thinking that wow—now my girlfriend and I can be together for centuries. But Delilah . . . I have to tell you the truth. I don’t know if I’m ready for that kind of commitment now that the opportunity is actually here.”
The tears stung behind my eyes, but I blinked them back. “It would seem that Sharah is doing a better job taking care of you than I am.”
The elfin medic who worked alongside Chase in the Faerie-Human Crime Scene Investigations unit had been overseeing his care as the potion worked its way through his system, changing every cell, altering his very DNA.
Chase snorted. “Maybe that’s because she’s not taking care of me. Sharah is offering me advice, but she’s not coddling me or treating me like some freak who needs kid glove handling.” A look of pain crossed his face, and he dropped his head to his hands and rubbed his forehead. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Delilah. I love you, I really do, but right now I’m no good to either one of us.”
My stomach churning, I sat on the edge of my chair again. “Yeah, I know you feel that way. But Chase, please, don’t shut me out.”
“I need to be on my own for a bit. To think about things. Besides, Camille needs you more than I do now. Her life’s a mess, too. And Henry . . . poor Henry doesn’t even have a life anymore. Go enjoy the party. Be there for your sister. She deserves the support. And if you meet somebody and you want them, I won’t ask questions.”
I tried to protest, but he shook his head and, feeling abruptly shoved out of the nest, I scurried toward the door, biting the tears back. Chase was right about one thing: our friend Henry Jeffries had fared worst of all. He’d been working in Camille’s bookshop—the Indigo Crescent—when the demons broke in. They killed him and blew up a good part of the shop in order to warn us off. We still hadn’t gotten the smell of smoke out of the walls.
As I neared the door, a voice echoed from behind me.
“Delilah, you okay?”
When I turned, I saw Vanzir, the lanky dream chaser demon bound to my sisters and me. Over the past seven months, we’d slowly been forging a friendship. Menolly and Vanzir hung out a lot. Vanzir and I talked from time to time. Camille kept her distance, but she was growing less leery of him as the weeks wore on.
Vanzir’s eyes whirled, a kaleidoscope of colors without any names. His David Bowie goblin-king hair was spiked and platinum, and he looked uncomfortable out of his leather pants and ripped tank. But he made the tux and tails work.
I shrugged and said, “I guess.”
“You guess, my ass. What’s wrong? You sense anything wrong out there? Demons?” Vanzir leaned against the wall in front of me, giving me the once-over. I realized he didn’t have a clue as to what was bothering me.
“Men. Even you demons are clueless.” As he stared at me, I shook my head and pushed past him. “I’m going to take a run outside. I need some air.”
“What? What did I say?”
As Vanzir let out a snort, I sidled to the door, slipping out while everyone was focused on toasting the happy . . . well, not couple . . . The happy marriage. Camille would understand. She’d forgive me for skipping out. Because pretty much, only she and Menolly knew what I was going through. What we were all going through.
Rhyne Wood Reception Hall was in one of the larger parks, and the city leased it out for celebrations and parties. Camille had decided to hold the reception here because—unlike her impromptu marriage to Smoky and Morio—this one had been planned, with over a hundred guests. And those numbers took space. Rhyne Wood had a dance floor, a nice big kitchen, and catering staff.
Situated in Fireweed Park, the mansion was a small part of the thousand-acre wilderness buttressing the shore of Puget Sound. I stayed away from the perimeter of the butte overlooking the inlet. I hated water and had no intention of accidentally going over the edge. But there were plenty of paths and trees and bushes in which to lose myself. As soon as I was far enough away from the mansion to comfortably feel out of sight, I shifted into my tabby self, my primary Were form. Everybody always thought it hurt, but really, if I went slowly, it didn’t. Just a blur and a haze as life shifted perceptions.
Free of clothing—except for a bright blue collar—I took off, racing into the undergrowth, reveling in the scents that flowed like hot chocolate on a cold autumn night. And it was cold, but my fur kept me warm and cozy. My worries floated away as I bounded through the rain-sparkling grass, romping in the misty evening, chasing the few moths
still braving the rain.
I leapt at one, an Anna’s Blue, and caught it in my mouth. With a quick nom nom, I swallowed and wrinkled my nose as the featherlight wings tickled my throat. A moment later, a rustling in the grass distracted me, and I raced in the direction of a thicket of alder trees surrounded by dense huckleberry bushes.
I knew enough not to get too near the bushes—they had nice, sharp thorns perfect for snagging my tail. But whatever was hiding there, I could smell, and the scent set my pulse to racing. I wanted to chase, to stretch my legs and feel the thrill of the hunt. I needed to rip things apart, to act out my aggression. And whatever was in the bushes, I might be able to play cat and mouse with it.
As I skirted the huckleberry, the rustling grew louder, and then out popped another . . . cat?
Puzzled, I cocked my head, staring at the creature. Not cat. But what the hell was it? Fluffy, bushy tail, cute, dark with light stripe . . . I knew I’d seen one somewhere, but I couldn’t remember where. Wondering if it might be friendly, I took a hesitant step toward it, and its big, bushy tail fluttered in the wind. The plume of fur was so pretty and tempting that I forgot my manners and pounced.
The creature swung around, turning its butt toward me.
Oh shit! Skunk!
Just as I remembered what it was, it took aim, shook its ass, and a wide spray came shooting toward me. I yowled and bounded away, but not before getting drenched by the foul-smelling perfume. At least it managed to miss my eyes, but I didn’t wait around for the skunk to get in a second shot. I hightailed it back toward the mansion.
As I reached the steps, I slowed, sneezing violently. What the hell was I supposed to do? If I ran in there as a cat, I’d stink up the joint. If I ran in as myself, it would be worse, because I’d be bigger, hence, giving off more of the odor. I paced nervously in front of the steps, wanting the nasty scent gone. Now.
Luck was with me. Vanzir was standing there, watching me. As I stared at him, eyes wide and praying he wouldn’t start laughing, he slipped back through the door. A moment later, he reappeared, Iris and Bruce in tow. Iris glanced around, her nose wrinkling, and I let out a plaintive yowl.
“Oh good heavens!” Iris shoved her flute of champagne into Bruce’s hand and came racing down the stairs, a look of horror on her face. She stopped just out of reach. “You poor thing. Oh dear, how are we going to get you home?”
Just then, Rozurial slipped outside. He looked at Vanzir, then Bruce, who was still holding the champagne, and then down at Iris and me.
“That’s not who I think it is, is it?” He barely muffled his laughter, and I hissed at him. “Oh, yeah, babe. You have a little BO problem, know that?”
“What should we do with her?” Bruce asked.
Iris stared at me, cocking her head, and I could see the wheels turning. “Rozurial, you take her home through the Ionyc Sea. I’ll head home with Bruce in the car, and we’ll get her cleaned up.”
She leaned down and shook her finger at me. It was tempting, but I had learned not to swat Iris while in cat form. She wasn’t above scruffing me and holding me off the floor, even though she was barely four feet tall.
“Listen to me, Delilah, and I know you can understand me, so you’d better do as I say. Don’t you dare turn back into yourself until we take care of this. I guarantee it will be far worse with all six foot one of you skunked, rather than just yourself as a little pussycat. Got it?”
I stared at her and blinked. If I disobeyed her on this one, she’d have my hide. Slowly, I let out a complacent meow.
“Good. Now, Rozurial, you take her home. And I don’t want to hear any fuss about it—just do it. Honey, will you let Camille know where we’re going?” Iris motioned to Bruce, who hurried back inside.
“I’ll come with,” Vanzir said to her. “I’m not all that comfortable in a tux.”
“Good. I can use your help.”
Roz picked me up, and I snuggled against the incubus, rubbing my chin on his chest. I had the feeling I wasn’t going to like what Iris had in store for me, and I wanted comfort. Purring loudly, I gave him my best good-kitty look, and he snorted, rubbing my ears.
“Eat it up, beauty. Eat it up. Come, you’ll be safe enough, just don’t try to jump out of my arms.” And in the blink of an eye, we leapt into the Ionyc Sea and crossed a world to travel fifteen miles.
Roz set me down outside, warning me not to enter the house until Iris had tended to me. “I’ll be back in a moment to keep an eye on you, though smelling like you do, I doubt anybody’s going to be a bother.”
He vanished into the studio-cum-shed that he shared with Vanzir and my cousin Shamas. With Camille’s three men staying with us now, and Bruce shacking up with Iris part of the time, we had built ourselves quite the extended family.
I tried to sniff out if there were any enemies near, but the scent of skunk infiltrated every pore. My eyes hurt, my nose hurt, my throat hurt, and I was queasy. It felt like the mother of all hairballs was churning in my stomach. I hunched near the porch, trying to avoid being seen by any would-be heroes of the animal world.
Roz came back after awhile, dressed in a pair of skintight jeans and a muscle shirt, and he sprawled on the ground near me, on his back, staring up at the stars, his long curly hair spreading on the ground beneath him.
“Look at the sky, fuzzball.” He ruffled my head. “Look at all the stars whirling around . . . I’ve walked among them, you know.” His voice dropped and took on a sinuous cadence. Even in cat form, I found it soothing and seductive.
“I’ve danced through the aurora borealis, skated my way through the Ionyc Lands. When I was searching for Dredge, I followed any and every lead, wherever the wind blew me. I journeyed from the Northlands to the Southern Wastes, from Valhalla to the gates of Hel, looking for that motherfucker. I’ve seen so much beauty and terror in my life that you’d think nothing would faze me . . . but the stars . . . they’re still the ultimate treasure. Pristine, luminous, and always out of reach.”
He rolled over on his stomach and plucked a long blade of grass, tickling my belly as I stretched out beside him. “I know you’re worried about Chase. But, Delilah, you have to let go, if that’s what he needs. The Nectar of Life plays havoc with humans when they aren’t prepared. You saved his life, but he lost something he wasn’t ready to lose. His mortality—in the human sense—is a huge part of what makes humans . . . well . . . human. When you have such a short time to live, you make the most of it. Now, you need to stand back and let Sharah help him. She knows what to do.”
I knew he was speaking the truth; I just didn’t want to hear it. But he was right. Camille and Menolly had been telling me that for days, but coming from them, it felt like sisterly meddling instead of advice. I let out a little yowl.
“Yeah, I know you know, and I know you don’t like it, but take my advice this time, okay? I understand what it means to have life ripped apart and drastically changed.”
And I knew that Roz did understand. He’d lost his family to Dredge, he’d lost his wife when Zeus and Hera decided to use them both as pawns. He’d been changed from Fae to incubus in the blink of an eye. Chase’s life had been turned upside down in that same fraction of a second, though not as harshly as Roz’s.
A car pulled into the driveway. Bruce and his driver. And Iris. They jumped out, and I saw they’d brought Vanzir home, too. Probably a good thing. He wasn’t the most decorous guest, and I had a feeling he’d be happier here than hanging out till late at a party where most of the guests avoided him.
Iris ran inside, and in less than ten minutes, she dashed down from the back porch, wearing a rubber apron over what I recognized as a dress she kept for the grungiest chores. She stood over me, hands on her hips.
“Well, I don’t know how you got yourself in this fix, but let’s take care of you.” She leaned over and scooped me up in her arms, her nose twitching. “You reek, girl. What did you say to that skunk?”
I wanted to protest—it hadn’t been my
fault; I hadn’t done anything. But I knew that Iris would call me on it. Truth was, I’d invaded the skunk’s territory and threatened it by pouncing.
Holding me against one hip, Iris carried me up the back steps and into the enclosed porch, where I saw something so horrible that I squirmed, desperately trying to get away: a bath full of what looked like dark, thick water.
Iris struggled, her thick rubber gloves losing their purchase on me. The minute her grip weakened, I bolted for the door to the kitchen, which was standing open.
“Come back here! Delilah, get your fuzzy butt back here right now!”
I galloped toward the stairs, but before I could get there, Vanzir was standing in front of me, snickering. Faster than I could blink, he reached out and snagged me up.
“Gotchya, puddy tat.”
I squirmed, but he held fast and carried me at arm’s length to the porch, where he unceremoniously dumped me in the water. Iris slammed the door so I couldn’t get into the house again. Resigned, I huffed and patiently waited. I was already wet; I might as well let her give me the bath. The scent of tomato juice cocktail broke through the smell filtering into my nostrils, and I took a cautious lick of the water.
Not bad, not bad.
Iris began to scrub me with the juice, and I hated to admit it, but it felt good. I detested the smell of skunk—it was making me nauseated—and if Iris thought that a bath in V8 would help, then I’d let her bathe me. I even relented enough to let her scrub my tummy. She took off my collar, and I suddenly felt naked. After all, that collar contained my clothing. When I changed back, if it wasn’t on me, my clothes wouldn’t be either.
After about ten minutes Iris motioned to Roz, and they moved to the side, leaving Vanzir to hold me in the tub.
“Puddy tat like her bath? Puddy happy?” he crooned.
Good for you I know you’re just teasing, I thought. Or you’d be dead by now. Vanzir was our slave, and if we chose, he’d die. Enslaving him had been the only way to keep from killing him when he defected to us in the first place, and there was no undoing the deed. He was ours. Forever.
Harvest Hunting Page 2
