“Canya? Are you sure?”
“Trust me. I know that scent.”
Camille let out a long sigh. “The one place in Otherworld you could find it in any great measure would be the Southern Wastes.” She frowned. “And the Southern Wastes are controlled by sorcerers, goblins, and the Goldunsan Fae—who work their way into some of the northern mountains. The Goldunsan aren’t like us. They’re alien, a little like the seers of Aladril.”
“That’s the second time the mention of sorcerers has come up tonight. You think Van or Jaycee had something to do with this?” I stared at her.
Two sorcerers had escaped our net a few months back after seriously putting the bite on a bunch of local werewolves, and they’d done some heavy damage to Camille in the process. We’d done our best to capture them, but they managed to vanish. We couldn’t win them all, and we’d taken down their illegal drug operation and saved several werewolves from a horrible death. So, we’d counted ourselves lucky.
Sucking in a deep breath, Camille caught my gaze. “I don’t want to go there. I really don’t, but we’d better put that down as a possibility. Revenge, perhaps, for shutting down their Wolf Briar business?”
Wolf Briar was a skanky drug used to subdue werewolves. And the production of it required the torture and dissection
of
werewolves. We’d put a stop to an underground production line, but the main players had managed to escape and were still out there.
“Good possibility. They’re Tregarts, so they’d have access to the explosive.” I rubbed my head. Tregarts—humanoid demons who could pass easily in society—were becoming a constant issue. We weren’t sure how they were getting in from the Subterranean Realms, but since Shadow Wing had one of the spirit seals, chances were he’d figured out a way to make it work for him.
“There’s one other possibility that we can’t overlook: Telazhar.” She pressed her lips together.
We’d gotten word that Telazhar, the necromancer who’d trained Stacia Bonecrusher—a rogue demon general whom we’d barely managed to put an end to—had escaped from the Sub-Realms. He’d been deported there when he was kicked out of Otherworld. We had reason to believe he might be Earthside now.
“What if somehow he hooked up with Van and Jaycee?” I didn’t even want to entertain the thought, but we had to.
Camille shook her head. “If he does, we’re fucked. Sorcerers and necromancers together? They’d be such powerful allies, they’d rival a demon general. And since Van and Jaycee were connected to Stacia, that’s not a wild card bet. We’d better check it out.”
Chase cleared his throat. “Keep it in mind, but let’s not start on that assumption. One thing I’ve learned: Never assume. Go by the facts, and conjecture all you like, but remember it’s just speculation until proven.” He let out a long sigh. “You say four died?”
Yugi’s jaw tightened. “Five. We found another body after I called you. Two are on the cusp—Mallen’s taking care of them back at headquarters. Sharah, you need to get over there. Mallen needs your help.”
As he moved to call an officer to drive her, I stopped him. “Can we go poke around the building?”
Yugi shook his head. “Not till morning. Still too dangerous to go in. The rest of the roof could easily cave, and then where would you be? The flames aren’t even doused yet. And we have to go through it with a fine-tooth comb for evidence, and also to look for . . .”
“For more bodies.” I clenched my teeth. I had too many friends from the Supe Community. Chances were, I knew at least one of the victims. “We’ll take Sharah to HQ. I need to see the victims. Anybody call wondering if they’re okay yet?”
He nodded. “Yeah, bunch of family members waiting at the station. I was hoping you’d volunteer to come help. It might come better from . . .” Pausing, Yugi ducked his head.
“From one of their own?” My voice was soft; I knew what he meant and there was no disrespect there. As I spoke, I felt an arm snake around my waist and Shade pressed against me, his lips brushing against the side of my head.
I leaned into his soft embrace. Even without words, I could read his intent. He had my back, during the good times and the difficult. My heart swelled as the slightly exotic musk that marked him as part dragon swept around me, shoring me up, giving me strength.
Camille caught my eye and smiled. She understood. She knew what I was feeling because she had that reassurance, too. Having a dragon lover—even a half-dragon lover—brought with it a special sense of security. That security could be broken, but it took a lot to shatter the safety.
As if reading my mind, Trillian placed his hands on Camille’s shoulders. Ever since Hyto’s attack, my sister had pulled her men close to help strengthen her boundaries, and they’d been more than willing to help her, in whatever way they could. Morio and she had started headlong back into their death magic rituals as soon as he was out of the wheelchair, Trillian had been teaching her how to fight street-dirty, and Smoky had been securing our land with his own crazed vigilance.
I looked up at Shade, intensely grateful for his support. “Thank you. Let’s go,” I said to the others. “We can’t do any more here tonight.” And with that, we turned and walked away—even though it was torture to think there might be more of my friends under the rubble—and headed for our cars.
So who am I? Taking a moment here to introduce myself, let me first say that some days I’m not exactly sure who I am. Oh, I’m Delilah D’Artigo, a two-faced Were, meaning one shape I shift into is a long-haired golden tabby who loves to get into trouble, and the other is my black panther self—ruled over by the Autumn Lord.
Which brings me to the fact that I’m also a Death Maiden—the only living Death Maiden at this time. Most of the Autumn Lord’s servants are dead, their souls gathered in Haseofon to work for him, but I’m alive. And someday, he has promised I will bear his child via my lover Shade. How and when that’s to be, I have no clue, but it’s destined to happen, and I believe in Fate.
At first, the transformation into the Autumn Lord’s service was hard for me. When my sisters and I came Earthside a few years back, I was still fairly naïve. I believed in the goodness of people. Now—well, I’m still an optimist, but I no longer wear rose-colored glasses. And I can’t automatically assume the best of everyone I meet. Now, I’m embracing my duties, and I feel honored to hold the title.
Along with my sisters—Camille, a wicked-good witch, who is also a priestess of the Moon Mother, and Menolly—a
jian-tu
acrobat and spy-turned-vampire, we were sent over from Otherworld. We were members of the OIA—the Otherworld Intelligence Agency—and after the portals dividing the worlds opened, we were assigned Earthside.
At first, the people here opened up their arms to their magical brethren, at one time the two worlds were united. But now hate crimes are on the rise as interaction between the Supes—supernaturals—and the FBHs increases.
Our mother was human—she’s long dead—and our father is Fae, and he swept her off her feet and took her back to Otherworld. Losing her was hard on our family. Losing our father’s support was even harder. But he turned his back on Camille, and in doing so, we turned our backs on him.
We resigned from the OIA and told our father that we’d return to duty when he came around and accepted Camille’s pledge to the Earthside Fae Queen’s court, and now we’re on our own, still facing the demon lord Shadow Wing, who intends to raze Earth and Otherworld for his own private amusement.
He’s after the spirit seals, and so are we. Originally one seal, the artifact was formed after the Great Divide, when the Fae Lords ripped apart the worlds. They created a seal to keep Otherworld, Earthside, and the Subterranean Realms separate, then broke it into nine pieces, scattering them to the Elemental Lords to keep them hidden. Separate, the seals keep the realms safe. If brought back together, they can rip open all the portals.
But sometimes, things work as they will. And the seals began to surface. They came to the attention of Shadow Wing. And that’s where we come in. We’re in a race to gather them before the Demon Lord gets hold of them. He’s got one. We’ve got five. So far, the odds are in our favor, but the fact that he possesses even one of them puts us in danger.
Technically, we now work for Queen Asteria, the Elfin Queen back in Otherworld, who’s hiding the spirit seals we find. But in reality, we work on our own, trying to ensure that the future makes it here in one piece without too much damage or demonic interference. Some days are easier than others . . .
“What are you thinking about?” Shade glanced over at me as I leaned back in the passenger seat, wincing. I had the beginnings of a headache and wondered how long before the side effects of the damishanya were going to hit.
“I’m wondering who I know among the dead. Which families I’m going to have to shatter with the news.” I rubbed my temples, glancing at Chase and Sharah in the backseat. “You guys have it worse . . . I know. I’m not complaining. It’s just never . . .”
“Never easy,” Chase said, finishing my thought. “Trust me, I understand and if I didn’t think you’d be a helpful influence, I’d never ask you to do this with me. I wish we’d brought Nerissa, too. Part of her job is as grief counselor.”
I pulled out my cell phone. “Let me give her a call and see how she’s doing.” The phone rang three times before Iris picked up. I ran down what we’d learned and where we were going. “Is Nerissa in any shape to pull herself out of the house and get down to HQ?”
“Hold on.” Iris set the phone down, and as I waited, I thought about how entangled we’d all become in each others’ lives. After a moment, Iris returned. “She’s sober. I’ll have Bruce’s driver take her over to headquarters in the limo. If you could see that she gets home when necessary . . .”
“No problem. Bless you and bless Bruce. Tell her we’ll see her when she gets there.” I punched the END CALL button. “Nerissa’s coming down.”
Chase grunted a thank-you. “Odd . . . how this has all worked out.” He didn’t say anything more, but I knew he’d picked up on my mood—I’d been around him long enough to tell.
We’d been involved after he struck out with Camille, and we’d made a good stab at a relationship, but the rocks on that ocean were just too sharp to navigate. Now he was involved with Sharah, the elfin medic, and they seemed to be a more compatible couple. He’d hired Nerissa as a crisis counselor, and she and Menolly were promised to each other. One by one, our extended family kept growing involved in ways we’d never have been able to predict. It kind of made up for the isolation we’d first felt when we came over Earthside.
By the time we arrived at the FH-CSI headquarters, Morio was fully sober. Apparently alcohol sped through his system quickly. Camille looked vaguely ill, as did Shamas, and I was starting to feel like they looked. But we were all clearheaded as we followed Chase and Sharah into the building.
The Faerie-Human Crime Scene Investigation building took up at least four floors, though there was a rumor of a hidden level. The top floor housed the police headquarters and medical unit. First floor down was a highly secure arsenal. Second floor down—the OW offender jails. And on the bottom floor were the laboratory, morgue, and archives. Tonight, we were headed for the morgue—a place we had been all too often.
As the elevator descended with a silent rush, a somber mood settled over the group, and I stared at my feet, Shade’s hand on my shoulder. I didn’t want to go in—didn’t want to look at the faces of my fallen friends. The Supe Community was tight-knit; everybody knew everybody else.
The doors opened with a
swish
and we stepped out onto the hard-tiled floor, our boots leaving a series of staccato tattoos echoing in our wake. The walls here had been recently painted sterile white. Whether they thought it was brighter than the pale blue it had been, I didn’t know, but it felt cold and hollow. As Chase pushed through the doors, Sharah right behind him, I watched them go in.
They fit . . . they really fit. Both of them had to deal with the leavings of society—the aftermath of battle. Whereas I was on the front lines, Chase was better suited to picking up the pieces and making sense of it all, of organizing the back lines. Chase and I never found our niche together. And yet we both had our place in the battles we were facing. And we’d become blood brother and sister. No matter what, we had each other’s back.
Chase glanced back at me, his eyes shimmering, and he blinked, then slowly smiled and inclined his head, as if he’d heard me speaking. He was changing, evolving, and none of us knew what he was becoming. Not even him.
He stood back, holding the morgue doors open for us. Sharah headed over to examine the bodies and talk to Mallen, her right-hand man, who was also an elf. He handed her a series of charts and she flipped through them.
I slowly approached the tables—five of them, each covered with a snow white sheet. Or what had started as snow white. Blossoms of blood spread across them, petals staining the undersides of the sheets, and as I watched, the patterns seemed to form the silhouettes of flowers. Or perhaps it was my imagination—like some gruesome Rorschach test.
The bodies were still, no breath, no movement. No fear they’d turn into vampires, like when Menolly had come here to identify victims. Just . . . dead. Cold, forever gone. I took a deep breath and looked up at Mallen.
“How bad are they?” Swallowing my fear, I tried to remind myself that I was a Death Maiden. I escorted—or would soon escort—souls over through the veil as part of my duties. I would be leaving the empty bodies of not just my enemies, but anybody whom the Autumn Lord ordered me to take.
He sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “They aren’t good. It’s not . . . it’s bloody. But the faces are fairly intact. I think they’re recognizable enough. The bodies were pretty mangled and burned. Four of them were right near the blast. The fifth . . . he never made it through the ride to the hospital.”