Priestess Dreaming (An Otherworld Novel) (38 page)

“I promise.” Camille stared at the rest of us, and we slowly nodded our heads. None of us were too enthusiastic, though. While toadsquatters weren’t inherently evil like their brother race of goblins, they
were
sneaky and reminiscent of cockroaches—they might not do anything to you, but they were so nasty you just kind of wanted to squash them.

She straightened up and looked around, her gaze falling on the cake. “Oh, hell—birthday party? For me?”

“Yeah, but you kind of blew that one out of the water.” Menolly laughed. “Let’s get drinks started, Derrick. Camille—take that . . . thing . . . to my office. I don’t want my customers coming in here and finding him.”

Camille grabbed the toadsquatter by the hand and started for the back.

Menolly turned back to us. “Delilah, carry the presents to my office, please. We don’t want them to get stolen. It’s time for me to unlock the doors. Luckily, I ordered a gigantic cake—big enough for my patrons. But Jenny, would you set it out of sight till we’re done talking to that creature?”

And with that flurry of orders, Menolly headed over to unlock the doors. I gathered up the presents, then paused, watching her as she inserted the key, and unlocked the Wayfarer for the first time in over two months since it had been destroyed by an arsonist.

The crowds flooded in, swamping the staff. I headed for the back, presents safely in my arms, once it appeared that everything was going off without a hitch. Menolly motioned that she’d join us in a bit.

The office had been expanded, and now we all managed to fit in it, albeit a little snugly. I set the gifts on the desk, and Camille walked over, looking at them. Smoky was holding the toadsquatter in place, his hand firmly on the creature’s head. The toadsquatter wasn’t moving, but neither did he look like he wanted to be here, and I didn’t blame him. He was in the middle of a group of people who could easily make mincemeat out of him and who wouldn’t mind doing so. His gaze darted toward the door.

“Easy boy. You’re not going anywhere. Not yet. So, what’s your name?” Smoky asked.

Shifty-eyes thought for a moment, then sighed. “Rataam.”

“Well, Rataam, you can give us the information we’re looking for and leave here alive.
However
, if I discover that you’ve gone back to whoever you’ve been snooping for and ratted us out, I’ll personally track down your family and there will be no more little Rataam babies in the world. Do I make myself clear?” When Smoky played hardball, he didn’t hesitate to break heads.

The toadsquatter gulped and nodded.

Smoky let go of his head. “Tell us what you know, then. If it’s worth it, we’ll pay you for your knowledge.”

Rataam ducked his squat head. He really did look very toad-like and for a moment I felt sorry for him. It was a scary thing to be surrounded by people who could pull you apart. I’d been there. But then, he let out a noise—I didn’t know what it was and didn’t want to—and his stench filled the room.

“Oh dude, that’s nasty. Do you have to do that?” I blurted out the words before I could stop myself.

Rataam scowled, but ignored me. Instead, he turned to Camille. “The sorcerer following you is named Iyonah.”

Iyonah . . . we’d had a run in with the woman recently—or rather, Camille had. But none of us realized she was anything other than a blip on the radar of “potential issues.” That she was following Camille and out to kill her stepped up the whole game.

Camille blanched. “Oh, fuck. I knew there was something about her! How do you know this? How do you even know about me?”

“I only know about her because I was paid to find out. I never heard of you before my employer paid me to look into the matter.” Ratam shifted, obviously uncomfortable.

I blinked. The fact that someone paid the toadsquatter to snoop into Camille’s life was unnerving. Apparently, Camille thought so, too, because she knelt beside him, pale and looking worried.

“And
who
is your employer?” She took his hand in hers, unleashing her glamour, which immediately seemed to have a calming effect on the creature.

He let out a long breath. “Promise you won’t tell them I told you?”

She held up her hand. “On the Moon Mother’s honor.”

Rataam scuffed his foot on the floor, then shrugged. “Raven Mother. She asked me to find out who was following you, and to warn you.”

Startled, Camille withdrew her hand and stood up. Raven Mother could be bad news when she wanted to be. But for some reason, she’d decided to help us out. That didn’t mean we could trust her, though. Raven Mother was wily and cunning, and she had so many hidden agendas that our enemies looked like simpletons compared to her.

Camille had been getting to know more about the Elemental than she ever wanted to know—she had no choice given the way events had been turning. As a result, Menolly and I’d been privy to a number of late-night conversations. Intrigue seemed to run rampant in the whole Raven Mother-Triple Threat-Moon Mother triangle that was going on.

“Did Raven Mother tell you
why
she wanted you to spy on me?” Camille’s eyes flashed—they were a vivid shade of violet, and now silver flecks appeared. No, she wasn’t happy, and her magic was rising.

Rataam shook his head. “No, but she made it clear it was important. She threatened to destroy my family if I didn’t do what she asked.” He sounded disheartened and I instantly felt guilty for being so uncharitable toward him.

Smoky and Camille looked at each other, and she slowly nodded. There was no real way of telling if he was lying, but odds were, Raven Mother hadn’t told him
what
Iyonah wanted. Her motives might be questionable, but she wasn’t stupid by any means.

Smoky let out a grumpy sigh. “All right, we will pay you well, but only if you vow on your family’s life to keep your mouth shut about everything that’s happened. As long as you keep your bargain, we won’t tell Raven Mother that you told us it was she who hired you.” Smoky nodded to the door. “Come, I’ll take you to a portal where you can return to Otherworld immediately.”

Camille kept her mouth shut until Smoky escorted the creature out. Then she let out a slow whistle. “I should have known Iyonah was up to no good. I think I did, I just didn’t realize she was after
me
.”

Irritated that we had to focus on enemies, even on our birthdays, I shook my head and gave her a hug. “Well, we should be able to take care of the matter as long as she remains clueless to the fact that you know about her. We’ll go over there tomorrow.” I pointed to her presents. “Meanwhile, birthday party.”

“You didn’t hire a stripper, did you?” She stared at me, pointedly.

I blushed, but then swatted her playfully. “No, and I’m not going to turn into a cat and go lunging after the customers tonight, either. But, can you imagine Smoky walking into the room to find a guy jiggling his junk in your face?”

Trillian meandered over, laughing. “Oh, I’d
pay
to see that.” He, Smoky, and Morio had a good-natured rivalry going on. While they were all married to Camille and she loved each of them with a passion, they still sparred at times. But when push came to shove, they had one anothers’ backs, and together they surrounded her with a ring of protection that sometimes chafed at her. I knew because the three of us didn’t have secrets.

Feddrah-Dahns spoke up. For a unicorn, his voice was simultaneously melodic and authoritative. “This Iyonah—I will send Mistletoe home right now to do research on her. Don’t take her on until we’ve dug up everything we can. He’ll return within forty-eight Earthside hours. I don’t want you in any more danger than you already are. If she’s truly a sorcerer, chances are she’s fairly powerful. And powerful sorcerers are danger incarnate.”

Before Camille could say a word, I interrupted. “She promises. She’ll be good and wait. Now, can we go join the party? This is Menolly’s special night, and it’s also special for Camille. We don’t get many celebrations. Please, let’s enjoy the ones we can.” I pushed Camille toward the door and, for the moment, the issue was shelved.

*   *   *

The front was rocking, the music loud, and the bar crowded.

The two large center tables were reserved for our party, but most of the booths were full, as were the counter stools. Our friends were packing the joint, showing their support for Menolly.

In one corner, Marion Vespa—the owner of the Supe-Urban Café—and her husband were ordering drinks. Jonas and his werebear buddies had crowded into a booth and were eating burgers and fries, along with giant steins of beer. At a table near the door, Frank Willows, the leader of the Supe Militia, was holding court with three other werewolves.

And, of course, Roman, the son of the Vampire Queen, sat in the most luxurious booth, along with several of the higher-ups from the Seattle Vampire Nexus. Menolly was his official consort. She walked a tight wire between her wife, Nerissa, and Roman. Nerissa was her heart-mate. Roman offered her the chance to play hard when she needed to let herself go. Both were head over heels about my sister and skirted each other with varying degrees of respect and suspicion.

All in all, the bar was crowded, and it made me happy to see the look on Menolly’s face. She’d expected people to ostracize her after what happened, but the truth was none of it was her fault. Maybe tonight would drive that through her thick skull.

As we gathered around the table, Jenny brought over the cake. Camille winked at her, and the girl, flustered, stuttered out a “Happy Birthday” and immediately left.

“Hey, I wanted to order—” Camille laughed. “I’m going to have to do something to put Jenny at ease, it seems.” She stood up, looking over at the bar.

I motioned for her to sit down. “You’re the birthday girl. I’ll get a waitress. What do you want to drink? Do you want anything to eat?”

“I want a Goblin Blaster and can you order me a grilled cheese and fries? We’ll cut the cake while we’re waiting for the food.” She was eying the massive sheet cake like I eyed catnip. Normally Camille didn’t go for sweets, but Earthside store-bought birthday cake had proven to be a weakness for her.

I motioned to a different waitress and gave her Camille’s order, and my own. Grilled cheese sounded good, so I asked for two. As the others ordered, I pushed my way up to the bar. Derrick, along with Digger—the assistant bartender who was also a vamp—were mixing drinks as fast as they could.

Derrick winked at me. “What do you need?”

“Camille wants a Goblin Blaster. For me? A Kahlúa and cream, please.” I didn’t drink a lot, but when I did, I preferred my booze with something to soften the impact.

He raised an eyebrow. “She wants a Goblin Blaster? We don’t get much call for those. They’re an acquired taste, that’s for sure.” As he began mixing up the basil liqueur with orange juice and both light and dark rum, the drink took on an earthy, pungent smell. The drink almost glowed green, and I grimaced. I preferred my drinks sweet.

Derrick added a twist of orange to the glass, then whipped up my Kahlúa and cream, and slid both drinks across the counter. I started to thank him but he had already moved on to his next order.

I picked up the drinks and brought them back to the table, handing Camille’s to her. She took a long sip and closed her eyes. Something about the basil and orange really appealed to her. Like me, she wasn’t much of a drinker, but ever since Menolly had concocted the recipe, Camille had, for the most part, stuck to a standing order.

Over the past few weeks, Menolly had gotten so irritable without the Wayfarer to distract her that she’d turned her lair into a makeshift bar and had managed to get just about everyone in the house drunk at one point or another, experimenting with new recipes. The upside was the drink menu at the Wayfarer had increased by at least fifty percent.

While we waited for the food, Camille cut the cake. The frosting was an inch thick and my taste buds were doing a happy dance on my tongue. Camille’s favorite flavors were strawberry and lemon, so the cake was strawberry with lemon icing. There were chocolate cupcakes for those whose tastes ran to the more traditional, but I wasn’t picky. If it was cake, I’d eat it. And I did. Two pieces of cake and three cupcakes.

Menolly climbed on the counter and whistled to the bar. “Listen up! Tonight’s not just the reopening of the Wayfarer, but it’s also my sister Camille’s birthday, as you may have surmised. We have a lot of cake here, so feel free to drop by our table for a slice. It’s free till it’s gone.”

A general round of applause rang through the bar as I settled in beside Camille and Menolly with a sigh of satisfaction. Despite the toadsquatter, everything had gone off without a hitch.

A little voice in the back of my head kept whispering,
Don’t let down your guard
, but I was tired of always being on alert, and I decided what the hell. I’d let down my hair for once. A giggle escaped. That was more than a cliché for once. I actually
could
let down my hair more than usual, because I’d started growing it back in. I was sporting a chin-length shag. Shade liked it, and while I wasn’t sure I’d ever grow it long again, it was fun for a change.

I downed the Kahlúa and cream and got a second, then a third round of drinks for Camille and myself. A fourth followed shortly. The volume of noise was rising to a steady buzz now as more people crowded into the bar, and I blinked, realizing that I wasn’t following any particular conversation, but instead, I just sat back, taking it all in.