Harvest Hunting

by Galenorn, Yasmine

  “I mean for now. For however long it takes me to come to grips with this. Maybe I’ll wake up tomorrow and be okay. Maybe it will take twenty years. Forty. I don’t know. I’m so confused. I love you—please know that—but there’s so much . . .” He trailed off, and I held up my hand.

  “No. Don’t say it. Don’t even try to explain right now. I need to process this.” I walked over to my closet, where I retrieved my favorite terrycloth robe. Not giving a damn about the scent of skunk, I slid it over the chemise, suddenly feeling shy. As I turned back to stare at Chase, the look in his eyes told me just how close he was to running scared. I could see it on his face; I could feel it in his silent plea for understanding.

  “Delilah, please don’t walk away from me? Don’t hate me?” He fell back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, looking so forlorn that I wanted to race into his arms, to comfort him. But he didn’t want me. Or maybe he did, but felt too guilty over wanting space from the emotional side of us.

  “You know,” I said slowly, “you have my permission to sleep with other women, if that’s what you need.” He had agreed to an open relationship; maybe we could still make this work.

  But as he slowly sat up, I saw the flush creeping up his cheeks. “Can’t you understand? I don’t necessarily want to sleep with anybody else. It’s that I can’t handle thinking about anyone else’s feelings until I know what my own feelings are.”

  Don’t say it . . . don’t say you want to break up. Please, let me hold on to the possibility that we’ll be okay for one more day . . . but am I ready to wait for you? I love you, but am I truly in love with you? I thought so . . . but am I wrong?

  He turned a bleak face to me and held out his arms. I sank into his embrace, gently kissing his eyes, his nose, his lips. He slid his arms around me and pulled me to him, parting my lips with his tongue as he kissed me deep and long and dark.

  I slid my hands over his chest, and he let me unbutton his shirt. As he slipped out of his jacket, then his pants and shirt, I drank in the sight. Chase was my first love, but it was time to grow, to move on, to explore what waited for me in the future. And truly, if I was to bear the Autumn Lord’s child someday and Chase was still with me, how would he handle that? How could any man who hadn’t grown up in my world?

  Chase pushed my robe back, and I let it slip to the ground. The scent of skunk seemed to fade, or perhaps I was growing used to it. Chase didn’t mention it, and as I stepped out of my chemise and stood there, naked in the dim light of the candle, he reached out and ran his fingertips over my body, over my breasts, over my stomach. I shivered, quickening to his touch.

  His body still bore the scars of where he’d been injured—and they were fierce and still red, long gashes where the Tregarts had savaged him. I knelt by his side, kissed the markings, gently let my tears fall on them and bathe them.

  I couldn’t help it. I blurted out, “If we could have only given you the Nectar of Life before you were hurt. If we could have gone through the ritual. Would it have made any difference?”

  Chase knelt beside me and took me in his arms again. “Delilah, I love you—I do. But so many things have happened, and I feel like everything I believed or knew has been turned upside down. I have a thousand years to think about my mistakes now. Even with the proper rituals, I think we’d still be here, together in this moment, facing the same issue.”

  I slid onto his lap, sitting there, feeling him press against me. He wanted me, that much I knew, but his expressions waged war on his face. I could feel it in the way he touched me.

  “You’ve never talked about this, but when Karvanak held you captive, what happened to you, Chase? Could that have something to do with all of this?” I’d never broached the subject before, but as I gazed into his eyes, I thought it was time to tread on sacred ground.

  Chase slowly said, “Karvanak tortured me, yes. He knows how to avoid leaving marks. No one would ever know if they were to examine my body. And I’ll never tell anybody what fully happened. Not even you. But he couldn’t break me. And you know why?”

  “Why?”

  “The thought that you and your sisters were so bravely facing an evil like him—and far worse—made me strong. I kept thinking, If they can go through this, I can. But my need for time and space comes from more than the Nectar of Life. More than Karvanak. Even more than the fact that I can’t stand the idea that you might get hurt. Or caught. Or killed. The mark you wear on your forehead . . .”

  He gently reached out and ran his finger over the tattoo on my forehead, then gently traced the ones on my arms. “These mean you belong to someone else—someone who will always and forever come first. Someone I can’t ever hope to compare to or to stand up to. And now that my psychic side is opening up, I can feel him there. I can feel him in your aura, and I can’t compete with that. You belong to the gods, Delilah. You never belonged to me. I’ve only been borrowing you.”

  His honesty—his brutal, gentle honesty—overwhelmed me, and I burst into tears. “I don’t want to let go, but I can hear it in your voice. You’re leaving me.”

  “I’m leaving you before you have to leave me. I think it’s easier this way.” He kissed me then, kissed away my tears, kissed me into forgetting the pain, kissed me until I couldn’t stand the tension but slid onto his lap, straddling him. We made love with desperate urgency, but even as his warm flesh filled me, even as I tried to capture and hold every single feeling, I could feel him slipping away from me.

  And as I rode him, loving at first and then angry because we were ending, I channeled my sorrow and tears into the act. My heart was breaking, yet all along, I knew this would happen. Furious at the inevitability of my life, I came when he did, came with tears instead of joy, came sobbing his name, even as he clenched my waist and groaned.

  After, there was nothing much to say. I stared mutely at him, wondering what to do next. Chase solved the problem for me.

  “I have to get back to HQ. I’ve got to get some sleep. I wish I could stay but—” His words were awkward but gentle.

  “Don’t,” I said, scuffing the floor. I wanted a shower, wanted to wash away the memory of the night. “Don’t say it.”

  He rubbed his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Do you hate me?”

  Shaking my head, I could only shrug. “How can I hate you? You didn’t screw up this time, Johnson. You told me what you needed. You were honest. I hate what’s happening, but I can’t . . . I can’t hate you. You’re Chase.”

  He dressed as I wrapped a towel around myself. “Delilah—maybe things will work out in a way we don’t expect. Maybe in the future . . . when I get my head together . . .” Pausing, he stopped himself. “I’m kidding myself. I’m not going to ask you to wait for me. That’s just wrong, when neither one of us knows what’s going to happen.”

  I shrugged, resigned. “I belong to the Autumn Lord. You’re right; eventually, he’s going to summon me and get me with his child. Until the day you can live with that, we don’t stand a chance. But if you can live with that . . .”

  He bit his lip, then let out a long sigh. “I can’t. I know myself. I’m sorry, but I can’t. I’d always feel second-best.”

  Ducking my head, I nodded. “Yeah, and true or not—and it’s not—that’s not fair to you. Then I guess it’s over.”

  With a sniffle, he quietly said, “Usually the woman says this, but . . . can we still be friends? And Delilah . . . when you find someone else . . . I’ll be happy for you.”

  His voice was so plaintive, and the look on his face so hopeful, that I broke into a tearful smile. “Just try to stop me from being your friend. Johnson, I love you, and in their own ways, Camille and Menolly do, too. You’re part of the family, really. Of course we’re friends. And maybe . . . maybe now without the strain of being lovers, we can be closer than ever.”

  And then a feeling resounded through me, straight from my heart to my lips. “Chase, will you become my blood brother? I want to kn
ow we’ll always be there for one another. It won’t bind you to a relationship with me as a lover, just as a friend, and you’ll know I’ll always be there for you.”

  Chase ducked his head, blushing. “You mean it? You’re not just trying to make me feel better?”

  I nodded. I meant it, all right, with every fiber of my being. “I’d never make that kind of a pledge out of pity or guilt.”

  Hunting around, I found my dagger and washed her off carefully. Then, motioning for him to sit on the bed, I held up my hand and sliced a clean, short cut on the palm. Chase held out his hand, and I did the same, then, tossing the dagger on the bed, I clasped his palm, our cuts pressed together.

  “Johnson, I pledge to you my loyalty, my friendship, and my love. I’ll always have your back, as long as it doesn’t interfere with my other oaths.”

  He shivered. “Delilah, you’ll be my sister, my blood-bound friend, and I’ll always be here for you. I offer you my loyalty, friendship . . . and my love.”

  As our palms touched, a tear rolled down his cheek, and I gently leaned in and kissed it away. The salt tickled my tongue.

  “I guess I’d better head out.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s going on two, and I have to be up at seven.”

  “Did you want to sleep here? You’d get at least an extra hour of sleep that way.” I didn’t want to see him go. It was over, yes, but I didn’t want to see him turn and walk out the door.

  He paused. “Would that be weird?”

  “No, no. Stay and sleep over. One last night.” I glanced at my bed. “Since I still reek of skunk, you can have the bed, and I’ll sleep in one of the cat beds. Much easier to replace than a mattress.”

  Once again, he loosened his shirt and slid out of his pants. “Thanks, Delilah. Just . . . thank you.”

  I slipped into the bathroom and out of my nightgown and took another quick shower, then dried off and transformed into Tabby. As I padded back into the bedroom, I saw that Chase was in bed, already asleep. He was breathing softly, and he’d put the cat bed on my side of the mattress. I let out a soft mew, my heart breaking again. Leaping up on the bed, I climbed into the cushioned nest, circled three times, and slept.

  When I awoke, he was already gone. I shifted back into two-legged form and saw that he’d left a note for me. It was a simple, “See you later . . . Sis . . .” but it hit me in the gut, and I slid to the floor, weeping softly.

  A moment later, the door opened after a light tap, and Camille peeked in. “Delilah, you need to get up . . . Delilah? Honey? What’s wrong?” She raced over to kneel by my side. “Are you okay? Is it about your hair? Were you hurt in the fight? Are you in pain?”

  “No—no . . . none of that.” I let her cuddle me and then leaned away, not wanting to smell up her pretty dress. “Last night Chase came back. We talked. It’s over. We broke up.”

  “What? How did this happen?” A shocked look on her face, she bundled me up and into my robe and led me downstairs. “You need some food. Come on, you can tell me over breakfast. The guys are out right now, so it’s just you and me and Iris.”

  The kitchen was thick with the scent of pancakes and syrup and eggs and bacon. Camille handed me a plate and took one for herself, and we loaded the food on as Iris finished making coffee.

  “You look like death warmed over, girl,” she said.

  “I feel like it. Sit with us—I want to tell you both something.” When they were sitting at the table, and we were eating breakfast, I told them about my night with Chase. Everything.

  A shaft of sunlight peeked through the clouds then, splashing through the window to fall across the table, and the late autumn light bathed the room in a golden glow. I closed my eyes for a moment, enjoying the sudden quietude the light brought to the room. But all too quickly, it vanished as the clouds moved in again.

  “Wow. So . . . just . . . wow.” Camille put down her fork and stared at me. “The Nectar of Life hit him hard. I feel sorry for the man.”

  Iris smiled softly. “It makes sense, my dear. Think if you were expecting another thirty or forty years of life, and then you’re mortally wounded. And the only thing that saves your life—that can possibly save you—suddenly throws you into staring at a thousand or more years stretching out in front of you now. Such a thing is bound to mess with the mind, especially when he wasn’t properly prepared for it.”

  I hung my head. “Why do I feel like a failure, then?”

  Camille grabbed my hand. “No—don’t say that. Not every relationship is going to work. And you . . . Delilah, you’re incredible. Chase just needs time to figure out his new life now.”

  I stared at her. It all made sense, but that didn’t make it any easier to hear.

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” I said. “And I guess I just make it harder on him, with all the issues facing us.”

  “I think Chase needs to simplify his life right now. Let’s face it: You can never be the little woman who waits at home for him at night with dinner and his slippers. You’re not just eye candy; you’re not here to stroke his ego,” Iris said. “And right now, even that is probably even more than he can handle.”

  “Thank you . . .” After a moment, I added, “I’ll be okay. It hurts, but when I think about it like this, it makes so much sense.” I looked up, my gut twisted in knots. “I guess my dance card’s wide open again.”

  Just then the door opened, and Vanzir and Rozurial came traipsing into the kitchen. They looked weary, but their eyes widened when they saw the spread on the table.

  “Wash your hands,” Iris said automatically.

  After obliging her, Rozurial set two plates on the table, while Vanzir got the silverware from the drawer. They scooted in beside us.

  “Were you by chance up when Menolly came home?” Roz asked.

  Camille shook her head. “No, I don’t think any of us were. What happened with the Tregart you took down to the Wayfarer?”

  Vanzir shook his head. “You don’t want to know. We had quite a fight on our hands, but we might have managed to obtain some useful information.”

  “Such as?” I handed them the platter with the scrambled eggs and bacon.

  Roz speared four sausages and scooped some of the eggs onto his dish and offered the rest to Vanzir. There were plenty of pancakes left, and when their plates were full, they leaned back, eying the three of us.

  “Stacia Bonecrusher is so deep in hiding, I don’t know how we’re going to find her. But there are apparently rumors going around that she’s running a training camp for recruits. And you can bet that Trytian’s recruits are there, too.” Vanzir bit into the pancake, which he ate without syrup, and chewed thoughtfully.

  “Where’s it supposed to be located?” A long shot, but I had to ask.

  Swallowing a mouthful of eggs, Roz shook his head. “Are you kidding? She’s not stupid. I have no idea, and neither did the Tregart we captured last night. He wasn’t part of the Bonecrusher’s army . . . he managed to cross through the Demon Gate when Stacia entered Earthside. He and his buddy went AWOL from the Subterranean Realms. I suppose we should start searching for the camp.”

  “But is that a good idea?” I asked.

  Camille pushed her empty plate to the side and leaned her elbows on the table. “Um, how is it not a good idea, Kitten?”

  I frowned. “The thing is—we waste time on chasing her training camp right now, we lose time on finding the sixth spirit seal. You know as well as I do that Stacia’s cloaked. Not to mention, say we find this camp? We’re going to need more help before we can take on a camp full of demons. She’s out to annihilate Shadow Wing, so right now she’s focused and centered and not paying attention to us. Shouldn’t we quietly go about finding the sixth spirit seal? She may be looking for the seals, too, but I guarantee you, her attention is centered on building up her army against her boss.”

  Camille frowned but nodded. Roz and Vanzir looked at each other like I’d just grown another head.

  “Don’t be so surpr
ised. I do have a brain, you know.”

  Roz laughed, then leaned back. “Good observation, Miss Kitty. And might I say, you don’t reek quite as bad this morning.”

  “Stick to the point, bud. Stick to the point.” I wrinkled my nose. “I’ll be getting the deodorizer from Luke today. But seriously, what do you guys think about tracking down the spirit seal first?”

  Camille sucked on her lip. “That’s a tempting idea. Only then we have to turn it over to Queen Asteria, and with her new idea to use them with the Keraastar Knights, I’m afraid of what’s going to happen.”

  “What do you think she’s doing with the seals?” I asked. Camille was the only one who Queen Asteria had told about it, and I still wasn’t clear on the plan.

  “She’s up to something. Like I mentioned before, she’s gathered Venus the Moon Child, Tam Lin, and Benjamin to her to form the basis of what she’s calling the Keraastar Knights. From what I can tell, she’s giving them back the seals and means to create some magical warrior force to fight against Shadow Wing. I’m not sure what prompted her to do this, but whatever it was, it had to be big. I’m almost afraid to find out.”

  “That’s right.” I almost wished I hadn’t asked. The idea was insane, but you don’t tell an Elfin Queen she’s nuts.

  “She shook her head. “The whole thing scares me, actually. But back to the matter at hand. Vanzir and Roz, can you spend the day researching any potential place where we should begin looking for the next spirit seal?”

  She paused, then looked at the Demon Twins. “By the way, what happened to the Tregart we captured?”

  Vanzir looked her straight in the eye. “He’s dead.”

  She nodded. I said nothing. There was nothing more to say about that particular matter. We all knew there was no other choice.

  I pushed back my chair. “Sounds good. Okay, Roz, Vanzir, take a hike after you eat. Be careful; don’t let anybody know what you’re looking for. Camille, let’s get dressed and head down to the bar and get me de-stinkafied. While we’re there, remember to ask if Luke has a picture of Amber’s husband Rice. Then we’ll hit the hotel and find out what we can about her.”