Flight from Hell
Author: Yasmine Galenorn
Date: 2000-01-01 05:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Urban Fantasy; Paranormal; Fantasy; Paranormal Romance; dragons; Novella; Vampires; Romance; Witches; Shapeshifters
Description: When the half-demon Carter approaches Menolly and her sisters desperately asking for their help, they think he's just had a tiff with Shimmer, his blue dragon girlfriend. But after talking to Alex Radcliffe, the owner of the Fly By Night Magical Investigations Agency where Shimmer works, they suspect that she has been kidnapped by an old enemy of Alex's. Now, Alex must join forces with the D'Artigo sisters in a desperate race to find Shimmer before Julian, a powerful vampire from Alex's past with a grudge to settle, can use the dragon to wreak havoc on Seattle as revenge.
Publisher: Penguin Group (USA)

Berkley titles by Yasmine Galenorn

THE OTHERWORLD SERIES

Witchling

Changeling

Darkling

Dragon Wytch

Night Huntress

Demon Mistress

Bone Magic

Harvest Hunting

Blood Wyne

Courting Darkness

Shaded Vision

Shadow Rising

Haunted Moon

Autumn Whispers

Crimson Veil

THE INDIGO COURT SERIES

Night Myst

Night Veil

Night Seeker

Night Vision

Night’s End

ANTHOLOGIES

Inked

Never After

Hexed

SPECIALS

Ice Shards

Etched in Silver

The Shadow Mist

Berkley Prime Crime titles by Yasmine Galenorn

Ghost of a Chance

Legend of the Jade Dragon

Murder Under a Mystic Moon

A Harvest of Bones

One Hex of a Wedding

Yasmine Galenorn writing as India Ink

Scent to Her Grave

A Blush with Death

Glossed and Found

Flight from Hell

An Otherworld Novella

Yasmine Galenorn

InterMix Books, New York

INTERMIX BOOKS

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PENGUIN GROUP (USA) LLC

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

FLIGHT FROM HELL

An InterMix Book / published by arrangement with the author

PUBLISHING HISTORY

InterMix eBook edition / August 2014

Copyright © 2014 by Yasmine Galenorn.

Excerpt from Priestess Dreaming copyright © 2014 by Yasmine Galenorn.

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Cover art by Tony Mauro.

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eBook ISBN: 978-0-698-14323-4

INTERMIX

InterMix Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group
and New American Library, divisions of Penguin Group (USA) LLC,

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Version_1

Revenge doesn’t stop.

—Daniel Craig

Love is like a war: easy to begin but very hard to stop.

—H. L. Mencken

Dedicated to

Meredith Bernstein, my agent,

Who always has my back.

Contents

Berkley titles by Yasmine Galenorn

Title Page

Copyright

Epigraph

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Epilogue

Playlist

Author's Note

Preview of Priestess Dreaming

About the Author

Several Months Earlier, in the Dragon Reaches

When they brought Shimmer before the Wing Liege, she had no clue what was going to happen to her. Stealing could be a capital offense, punishable by death.

She’d always been careful. She had always managed to escape before they caught up with her. But this time, there had been a simple miscalculation and bingo . . . here she was, in a cell made of the strongest metals that existed. Metal bars even a dragon couldn’t break.

With a sigh, she stared out the tiny window in the stone wall. The water seemed so far away right now, and she hung her head, missing the salt air and the feel of the wind on her face. Why had she been so stupid? It wasn’t like she’d taken anything all that valuable. And she hadn’t stolen anything sentimental. White dragons weren’t given to sentiment, anyway. No, she had broken into the Greanfyr family dreyerie on a dare. She’d done it because . . . well, that’s who she was. A misfit, an orphan, an outcast. There was no place in society for her, and so she had created her own niche, and that included seeing how far she could bend the rules. But now, everything was shot to hell.

To her surprise, at the trial the Wing Liege hadn’t been quite as terrifying as she thought he would be. In fact, Lord Vine had spoken gently to her. He gazed into her eyes, and for a moment, she thought she caught a glimpse of empathy. The sentence had been handed down—an odd punishment but it had been at his urging. After the council adjourned, it was over and he led her back to her cell.

He paused as she sat down at the marble table near her bunk. “Shimmer . . . you’ll be okay, you know.”

She glanced up at him, and for the first time, her walls came down.

“I’m scared.” She hated admitting anything like that, but it was the truth and now there was nothing to be gained by lying. She had put up a good front—she’d learned early how to bluff her way through difficult situations—but now the chips were down and she tossed her cards on the table. “I miss the ocean. I miss the water.”

“You’ll be near the ocean where we’re sending you. And I promise you, Alex . . . well, he’s interesting. He takes a little bit of getting used to, but I vouch for him. He’s an old friend of mine. He’ll keep an eye on you.” The Wing Liege’s manner might be formal, but his words held real warmth. “Shimmer, you had a rough start in life. There’s no denying that. That’s why the Council is giving you a second chance.”

“Second chance? I never had a chance from the start.” She smiled.

“Well, consider this your chance then—a chance to redeem yourself.”

He still didn’t undertand. Born out of the caste system, she’d been persona non grata since the beginning. Her “second chance” amounted to being carted off. The sentence could have been far more severe but it still amounted to exile. “Out of sight, out of mind, right? Call the punishment what it is, Lord Vine. Banishment. The Dragon Reaches is my home . . . even if I don’t have a clan or caste to stand by me. Now, you’re taking that away from me.” She walked over to peek out the window, but all she could see through the barred opening were cloudy skies.

The Wing Liege pushed himself to his feet with a sigh. “Shimmer, face facts, girl. If you stay here, Greanfyr will hunt you down and destroy you. You know what the Whites are like . . . they’re vicious, greedy dragons. You stole from one of the highest families in their caste. I’m sending you away for your own safety. And maybe, maybe you’ll figure out what you want to do with your life while you’re gone.”

“What choices do I have? I have no caste, Lord Vine, due to my birth.”

“If you make it through these five years, you’ll be granted the caste of your peers, Shimmer. That was part of my bargaining with the Elder Council. But you must go. This is the only way to keep you safe until what you did blows over.”

He headed toward the door, pausing before he exited. “You’ll be fine. Earthside has its charms, though you’ll have a lot to learn about the customs. But there are other dragons there, including Lord Iampaatar. You’ll get along, and if you’re in trouble, you can go to him. He and his wife Camille will help—they’re philanthropists of a sort. And five years from now, if you’ve behaved yourself, you can return and we’ll restore your full powers and give you a place in society.”

Before she could say a word, he was gone. And the future stretched in front of her like a terrifyingly blank canvas. Shimmer hugged herself, rocking gently. She’d really screwed it up this time. How was she going to wait out five years among a bunch of humans and Supes? How would she ever manage to work with a vampire? So many questions weighed on her mind.

“Well, at least I’m still alive. Which means, unfortunately,” she whispered to herself, “I’m going to have the time to find the answers.” But it was going to be a lonely five years, she had the feeling. Very lonely.

Chapter 1

“I want you to find out who’s behind these deaths.” Roman didn’t look happy. “I’d send in my spies but they’re too well known among the vampire community.”

I stared at him. He was the son of Blood Wyne, the Queen of the Crimson Veil. As Roman’s official consort, I had to obey him, unless I could figure out how to cajole or argue my way out of the situation. That didn’t mean I had to be happy about it, though.

“I already have more on my plate than I can deal with, what with the destruction going down in Otherworld, and the worries about the demonic war over here Earthside. You know I’m swamped.”

Tracking down rogue vampires who were killing innocent people was the last thing I wanted to do right now. Last time it had happened, I’d been on the receiving end of a hand grenade wielded by a freakshow vampire serial killer with identity issues. He’d been a priest before he’d been turned, and the combo of being a holy man and being turned into a rampaging monster had slammed his brain way out in left field.

“I know. But I need you to do this.” He stroked my hand. “If they think I’m on their trail, they may go underground and then who knows where they’ll go or who they’ll hurt next.”

“You aren’t going to let me off the hook, are you?” I toyed with the bottle of blood sitting on the table.

“I wouldn’t ask this of you, Menolly, but there will be more deaths if we don’t put a stop to these rogue vamps.”

His hair hung in a smooth ponytail to mid-back, chocolate brown, and he was muscled, but trim. Roman was also one of the oldest vampires I had met, and he was ruthless when crossed.

Caving, I finally agreed. “Fine. I’ll have a look around the area, and see what I can find out. And I’ll ask Carter if he’s heard anything through the grapevine.” As I stood, Roman slipped his fingers around my wrist. His touch was gentle, but firm. He could bring me to my knees with one word, but he chose not to.

“You don’t have to leave just yet, do you?” His voice was seductive and it would have been easy to let myself fall into the energy, to race through the woods with him, throw him down in the wild weather that was brewing and ride him hard and long. My mouth watered, hungering for the taste of his blood on my tongue, but I reined myself in. Nerissa, my wife, was waiting for me at home, along with my sisters. I might as well get this show on the road.

“Rain check, please. But definitely, hold that thought for later.” I brushed his cheek with a kiss, trailing my lips across his, then slipped away before he could tell me he loved me. I was trying to break him of that habit, and so far, wasn’t having much luck. But he knew full well that my heart belonged to Nerissa. Playtime with the boys was all well and good—and we weren’t exclusive when it came to men. But one woman, and one woman only, owned the key to my heart.

I put in a call to my sisters, Delilah and Camille, as I made my way to my Ford Mustang. The car was brand new and I still felt like I was betraying my Jag when I was driving it. But the Jag had been trashed by a would-be assassin.

“Meet me over at Severance Park. Roman’s guards took down a couple newly minted vampires there last night. He asked me to check into it and figure out what went down, and who sired them. And once we find that out, we’re supposed to put a stop to them.”

“Oh, jeez. That’s all? Okay, we’re on the way.” Camille hung up.

As I pulled out of the driveway leading to Roman’s estate, I wondered just what kind of a mess we were getting into this time.

***

Severance Park was, as luck would have it, smack in the middle of the Greenbelt Park District, or as we’d taken to calling it—Spooksville Central. The most haunted area in Seattle, it was filled with faded memories of unhappy events, and angry spirits who would not rest. We knew this because we had fought too many of them.

Trouble was, a vampire on a killing spree wasn’t a ghost. Vampires were corporeal. And vampires weren’t tied to an area—get bored? Easy enough to move to another part of the city. But the fact that the bodies had both been found, and then had risen, in this district, meant that it was the best place for us to start.

The streets in the neighborhood were dimly lit and poorly populated, the buildings weathered and run-down. Why the city didn’t start an urban renovation project here confounded me, but when I thought about it some more, the answer was easy: money. Every city had its budget problems and Seattle was no exception. It was hard enough to come up with funding for the cops and firefighters, let alone street repair and upkeep of the more popular areas. Renovating a dilapidated and mostly deserted neighborhood? Not high on the to-do list.

As I pulled alongside the curb—parking here was easy to find—I felt an uneasy shift in the air. I glanced over at the building across from the park. Something was wrong.

Slipping out of the car, I locked it behind me. I wasn’t worried about anybody hurting me so much—I was a vampire, after all—but my new car? Nobody was going to lay a hand on it and get away without a beating. And the first rule of car thieves: Look for vehicles that were unlocked.

Debating on whether I should wait for Camille and Delilah, I ticked off what I knew.

First: several bodies had been reported in the area but when the cops showed up, they had vanished. Which meant either the killer returned for them or they’d been killed by a vampire and risen between the time of the report and the time the police arrived.

Second: The night before, Roman’s guards had discovered two newly minted vampires in Severance Park. They were freshly risen, which meant they’d been killed not long before and left to fend for themselves by their sire.

Third: A number of vampires could—and would—listen to reason when they first rose, but not all were in their right mind. Some were so manic, so eager to feed, that nothing in the world could get through to them. Some were set to hunt by their sires. I’d been like that, until Camille tricked me into the safe room back in our home in Otherworld, and summoned help.

Fourth: These vamps hadn’t been tractable and had to be staked. They’d attacked, and the guards defended themselves, turning them to dust. There was nothing left to examine, because all their clothes and effects had gone up in the sudden incineration as well.

Which left us with no clue as to why this was going on. The only thing we had were the guards’ descriptions, which we would run by Chase, the chief of the Faerie-Human Crime Scene Investigations Unit, to see if they fit the profile of any missing persons. But the odds weren’t great on discovering who the victims had been.

I shivered. The energy of the area was volatile. And the fact that I could feel it, meant it was strong. I didn’t work with magic, I didn’t have that otherworldly ability to sense energy. When Camille got here, maybe she could make heads or tails out of what was going on. She was a witch, and she could perceive things that neither Delilah nor I could. Closing my eyes, I tried to suss out what exactly it was that I was feeling.

The air was damp and chill, and rain was headed in off the inlet. We were due for a nasty storm and it wasn’t far away. But there was something else—a sense of unease, of disruption just beneath the surface. Demonkin? Maybe. We were embroiled in a demonic war, and sooner or later, Shadow Wing would be sending a new demon general Earthside to harass us.

As I waited, the wind picked up and a scream echoed from the deserted brick walk-up across the street. I hesitated. The building was abandoned. There shouldn’t be anybody there, and there were ghosts in the area. Ghosts that could send sharp objects through the air to impale me. Been there, done that. Didn’t welcome a repeat.

But what if it wasn’t a ghost? What if a woman was in there and she was in trouble? My mind made up, I raced across the street, my feet barely touching the ground.

The building’s front door was boarded over but one of the lower windows was broken. The iron bars were bent, telling me that somebody—or some thing—had made it into the building. I climbed through the broken glass, smashing a couple of jagged edges to get them out of the way. The remnants of the pane shattered and I pulled my jacket sleeve over my hand to brush away the glass. It wouldn’t really hurt me but might as well not take any chances.

Putting my foot on the windowsill, I levered myself up and over, cautiously jumping through to land inside the room. My boots scrunched on the broken glass as I hit the floor, and I quickly crouched down, just in case anything might have noticed me. After a moment, the silence of the room echoed around me and I slowly rose up as my eyes adjusted.

The room was dark, and even with my eyesight being what it was—vampires could see better in the dark than just about any other creature—it was hard to make out how big the chamber I was in, or what else might be lurking in the shadows.

I cautiously moved forward, feeling my way through the darkness. I had a miniature flashlight on my keychain, but if I used it, then I would alert anything or anybody else in the area. As I skirted the room, edging to my right, I began to see nuances in the darkness—dim light from the streetlamps outside filtered through some of the barricaded windows. A table here, a chair there . . . what appeared to be the remains of a broken-down sofa that smelled terribly musty but wasn’t infested by mold yet. Apparently, there weren’t any leaks, though with the window I’d broken, that could easily change.

I still didn’t have a handle on what this place had been until I nudged into a sign leaning against a desk of some sort. Frustrated with the slow going, wondering where the scream had come from, I finally flicked on my flashlight.

ROSELLE’S DAY LABOR. So this office had been a temporary employment agency. While the light was on, I flashed the beam around the rest of the room for a quick look. Nothing in particular stood out.

As I was trying to get my bearings, another scream echoed in the building, this time from higher up. I could hear it through the ceiling, and this time I could smell the fear and I could smell blood. That wasn’t any ghost, that was a woman.

Catching sight of a door, I raced for it, ignoring the noise I was making. As I slammed through—breaking it off the hinges—the scream echoed once more. My flashlight showed me that I was in a hallway, near a door marked STAIRS, and so I grabbed the handle and pulled. It was locked. But locked doors weren’t really a problem for me. Gritting my teeth, I gave it a good yank. Metal screeched as the hinges twisted. I put my weight into it, and the door gave way as I ripped it off the hinges. Sending it flying behind me, the door splintered as it hit the wall.

Taking the stairs two at a time, I flew up them, pouring on the speed. The scream had sounded from the floor above, and so I busted through the second-story stairwell door, shoulder-butting it to slam it back against the wall. Stumbling through the opening, I found myself in a large open room, dimly lit by a handful of scattered candles.

Figures vanished into the shadows. Vampires—I could sense my own kind. At least three of them.

What they’d been up to was obvious. A woman lay on a dirty mattress in the middle of the room, either dead or comatose. Her clothing had been ripped away and blood trickled down from her neck, from her nipples, from between her thighs. I winced, grateful she wasn’t awake at the moment. Please, let her be alive, I whispered. This was no way to die.

I debated. I could either take on the other vamps and chance letting her die—if she was still alive. Or I could bundle her up and get the fuck out of there. I wanted to follow them into the shadows, to drag them out by their hair and make them pay, but then—in the silence of my hesitation—I caught the faint sound of the woman’s breath.

Her chest rose and fell in a shallow beat. She was still breathing.

Hurrying before they figured out that I was alone, I gathered her up in my arms. Her flowing blood set off my hunger but I drove it back and made for the stairs. I took them two at a time, until I reached the first floor, and raced into the first room I’d entered. Shouts echoed down the stairwell from behind me. Apparently the other vamps had worked out that I wasn’t leading an army, and no doubt they were planning on retrieving their stolen toy.

At the window, I debated the best way to get her out without hurting her further. Finally, I cautiously lifted her through the broken window and lowered her to the ground. She slowly crumpled to the sidewalk. Then, leaping out to land beside her in a crouch, I pulled out my phone and speed-dialed Camille.

“Where are you?”

“Almost there. You sound harried.”

“I just climbed out of the building across the street from the park. I have a wounded woman with me—vamp attack. She’s alive, but she’s really roughed up. The other vamps are behind me. I’m going to lock her in my car and go back in—we can’t let them run loose. Roman’s right, there’s trouble going down in the vamp community.”

Camille was brusque. “No. Wait for us. We’re just around the corner. Make sure the woman is safe and I’ll call the FH-CSI to send a medic unit.” She signed off.

I gathered up the woman in my arms and, still ignoring the allure of her blood, bundled her over to my car and into the backseat. I checked her pulse again—the beat was thread but definite. She was so pale I could tell she’d lost a lot of blood. Her features made me wonder if she was Fae, but there was no time to focus on her ethnicity. Right now, I just needed to keep her alive.

Opening the trunk, I pulled out a blanket—we all kept emergency supplies in our cars for situations just like this one—and covered her to try to keep her from going into shock. The blood on her neck had slowed to a trickle. Reluctantly, I examined her thighs to check on the damage.

She’d been bitten in the femoral artery, but there was a coagulant in vampires’ saliva—including mine—that slowed the flow of blood. We used it when we chose to leave our victims alive—often if a vampire was building a stable of bloodwhores. Apparently, they had chosen to keep her alive, probably for their fun and games. I also noticed bruising around her labia and inner thighs, and—with growing trepidation—I took a closer look.

Holy fuck. They’d fed from her clit. The fang marks were savage and my temper began to boil. I’d been tortured by the vampire who sired me—tortured like this, and worse. As my fury began to rise, all I could think about was finding these freaks and staking them to dust. I pulled out my phone and called Roman, but he wasn’t picking up. I left a message, then went back to tucking a blanket around the woman.

As I slipped quietly out of the car, locking it behind me, I saw Camille’s Lexus and Delilah’s Jeep pull in behind my Mustang.

They got out and hurried over. I pointed to my car. “She’s in there, and she’s badly hurt. They’ve been toying with her for a while. Have you got stakes?” I didn’t like the question, it was one that personally touched me, considering I was also a vampire, but the fact was, the only way we could take care of these freaks was to wipe them out and that meant stakes, fire, or sunlight.

“We have our emergency kits in the back. You can thank Rozurial for that.” Camille opened her trunk and pulled out a duffle bag filled with weapons. She unzipped it and pulled out five stakes and five little red balls—magical firebombs. “We have pointy sticks and fire. We can roast ’em on a spit!”

I stifled a snort. “Good. I have a couple in the back of my car. Delilah? You have pretty much the same setup?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Let’s roll. Oh, by the way, Carter wants to see us when we’re done.”

Carter was a friend who was also half-demon, half-Titan. He had answers when we needed them, usually.

“I want to see him, too. Camille, somebody has to stay here with the victim, to wait for the FH-CSI to get here. You’re best suited for that.”

I tried to avoid saying that she’d be the most vulnerable, but that’s the way it came out, regardless of my wording. But she just nodded. We were beyond the point of taking offense by now. We’d come through too much to lie to ourselves about our strengths—and our weaknesses.

“Will do. After they get here, I’ll head in if you’re still involved.”

Delilah and I went in, she armed with a stake rather than her dagger. By nature, I was a weapon without any extra toys. And we had flashlights, stakes, and the firebombs, although we left a couple with Camille on the off chance that the vamps might sneak up on her.

I clambered through the window. Delilah slipped in behind me, easily swinging over the broken sill. A moment later, there was a soft shuffle and one of the shadows to my right lunged forward.

“Heads up!” I whirled around.

Delilah raised the stake as she assumed battle position.

I intercepted the vampire heading toward her, even as the second fell on my back. They were hellaciously strong. I was fighting both a man and a woman.

I slammed hard against the one I’d intercepted, taking her down to the floor beneath me, even as the male vamp wrapped his arms around my throat. He couldn’t break my neck, or rather—even if he did, it wouldn’t affect me other than to discombobulate me. But if he could get his fangs in me, he could try to drain me until I was too weak to fight.

As the woman and I went down, I kneed her in the stomach, hard. Something cracked. Whether it was a bone or cartilage or whatnot, I wasn’t sure, but I laughed as she let out a loud “Ooph.”

“Bitch,” she said with a hiss, wrapping her arms around my waist.

A second later and the male lodged against my back vanished as a shower of ash wafted up and around me. Delilah let out a low laugh. She had managed to stake him while his back was turned.

Free from his grasp, I plunged my teeth into the female vamp’s neck and ripped at her jugular. She screamed as I tore a piece of flesh away from her throat, and the next moment, she vanished and a bat appeared, wavering slightly as she tried to fly away.

Delilah leapt forward, turning into Panther as she did so, and snatched the flying rodent clean out of the air, biting hard. The bat squeaked as I brought out one of the firebombs and shoved it into the creature’s mouth. Delilah dropped it, and as the vampire fell to the floor, the bomb exploded, sending sparks everywhere. I jumped back, trying to avoid the sizzling shower.

As flames shot up, incinerating the vampire, they caught hold of the ragged edge of the sofa and it went up like a light. The fire spread, racing through the tinder-dry wood and detritus littered around the room. Delilah grabbed me by the arm, once again back to her normal self.

“We have to get out of here. This building’s old and the wood’s dry. It’s going to go up like a matchstick.” She dragged me to the window, and for once, I followed without protest. The other vampires could be anywhere, and chances are they’d already fled the scene, especially if they sensed smoke and fire.

As we slipped out the window, across the street I could see the FH-CSI medic unit under the glow of a streetlamp. The woman lay on a stretcher, with an IV going in her arm. Camille was staring in horror at the smoke billowing from the building, but a look of relief swept across her face when she saw us.

Delilah held up a stake. “I retrieved this one after stabbing the vampire. I don’t like to waste things.”

As I stared at it, a thought crossed my mind. “Maybe we can get some sort of read off of it—as to who was on the receiving end. We’re headed toward Carter’s next. He might be able to help us.”

As we crossed the street, the sound of sirens echoed in the distance. The medic unit must have called in the fire department. Camille ran over to us.

“What happened? Did you get them?”

“Two of them—but I know for a fact they were more.”

Even as I spoke, I glanced in the sky. Against the cloud cover, the shapes of five bats glided silently into the night. I thought about shifting form to follow them, but that would be foolhardy. However, now we knew there had been at least seven vampires in the building. Maybe more. Seven rogue vamps.

“How is she?” I nodded toward the stretcher.

Mallen, chief of the medical unit now that Sharah was gone, frowned. “She lost a lot of blood so we have her on a transfusion. If she dies, I don’t know if she’d turn. We can’t tell if she ingested any blood. However, she’s beat up and bruised. I guarantee you she’s been raped. Her genitals are pretty torn up down there. She’s still unconscious and I’m not sure how much that has to do with her injuries, or exhaustion, or both. We’ll know more once we get her into the emergency room.”

He pushed past me. “Sorry, but we’ve got to get a move on. She needs all the help she can get. I’ll call you with anything new.”

As the ambulance sped away, I turned to Delilah and Camille. “I suppose, while we’re here, we should have a look at the park.” I gave them the rundown that Roman had given me. “When I got here, I sensed energy coming from that building, and you know I don’t usually sense energy the way you do. Camille, can you feel anything that might be other than vampire?”

She walked into the street—there was little to no traffic—and held out her hands toward the building. A moment later, a gust of wind, or what I thought was wind, rushed past and belted into her back, shoving her forward to land on her hands and knees. She let out a shout as Delilah ran over to help her up.

“Are you all right? Anything broken?”

“No, but fucking hell.” She brushed herself off, examining the palms of her hands, which were abraded from the asphalt. Luckily, she’d dressed for action, meaning she was wearing her Emma Peel cat suit and kitten-heeled granny boots instead of her usual corset, skirt, and stilettos. Which meant her knees were relatively unscathed.

“All I know is I felt a rush of wind and then you went flying.”

“Well, something shoved me. Hands, no less.” She turned to stare at the park. “It came from the park. I swear I heard laughter.”

Severance Park loomed in the night, the maples barren and stark against the sky. Firs towered behind them, dark silhouettes in the oncoming storm. A lone path led through wrought iron gates. I shuddered. Iron—wrought, cast, and pure—so not our friends. We were half-Fae, half-human. Even at half-blood, cast, wrought, and pure iron was anathema to us, although I would heal a lot quicker and hurt a lot less, given my vampiric nature.

The mouth of the path was overgrown and wild, reminding me of the entrance to a tunnel or cave. The vegetation hadn’t been trimmed back in a long time, and weeds cracked through the pavement. The prospect of heading into the park, which stretched for several blocks, dark and overgrown, wasn’t exactly on my bucket list.

“Should we?” I turned to the others.

Camille shook her head. “There’s something in there, all right, but I’d rather do some research first. We don’t know where the other vampires went. If they’re rogues, there might be more of them. We’re good, but even with you along, we can’t fight off a full nest.”

“Agreed.” Delilah echoed the sentiment. “We go visit Carter, see what he wanted to talk to us about, and ask him if he knows anything about what’s going on. How many deaths did you say Roman thinks have occurred?”

I frowned. “Five newly minted vampires taken down in the past week, total. Several bodies that vanished without a trace. So . . . quite a few. Somebody out there is on a killing spree, and intent on creating a nest of followers.”

“Then, I vote we adjourn and head over to Carter’s.” Camille edged her way toward her Lexus, staring at the sky. “We’re in for one hell of a storm, I can tell you that. It’s going to break at any moment.”

After the sentient storm that had destroyed Elqaneve—the Elfin city in Otherworld—every time she mentioned the weather, I grew uneasy. But we were Earthside, and while the sentient storm was still raging across the face of our homeland, so far, it hadn’t crossed between the realms.

“See you there. I hope by then Mallen will have news on the woman I found. If she lives, maybe she’ll remember something that will help us.” I pulled out the keys to my Mustang. The backseat of my brand-new car was tinged with blood. So much for spotless. But then again, nothing we ever did seemed to remain in a pristine state.

As we pulled away from Severance Park, I glanced in the rearview mirror. There was a flash of green from the trees. A sickly, olive green that made my stomach turn. Yeah, something was going on there. And we were right in line to find out.

Chapter 2

As I followed Camille’s Lexus through the Broadway district, I felt a wistful tug. The Wayfarer—my bar, a few streets over—had burned to the ground about two weeks ago. Arson, actually. Eight people died, including one of my waitresses and friends—Chrysandra. The whole mess still made me sick, and even though we’d taken out the person primarily responsible, I had a lot of unresolved rage simmering at a low boil.

But I would rebuild and the Wayfarer, which had originally been a human hangout, would take on my style. If anything good could emerge from the arson, it was that I could rebuild from the ground up and really make the Wayfarer my bar.

***

When we’d first come Earthside, I’d been assigned a job as the bartender in the bar, and it had been my cover. My sisters and I work for the Otherworld Intelligence Agency. Back then we were lackeys, exiled over Earthside due to poor performances. Now, we run the Earthside division. We’ve managed to turn what was essentially a sentence of exile into a thriving success. Well, if you can call being on the front lines of a demonic war a success.

I’m Menolly, the youngest of the D’Artigo girls. And as I said, I’m a vampire. I used to be a jian-tu, a spy of sorts, for the OIA back in Otherworld, until I fell into a nest of vampires. That’s where Dredge—the most vicious bloodsucker that ever walked either world—got hold of me. He tortured me in ways I can never forget, then killed and turned me. Afterward, he sent me home to destroy my family, but thanks to Camille, that little plan didn’t work. The OIA took me in since the whole mess had been their fault in the first place, they rehabilitated me, and I managed to survive, sanity returning after a year.

I’m five-one, with copper-colored cornrows that are beaded with ivory. The sound of the beads clinking when I walk reminds me that I exist, that I’m more than a living shadow. I’ve actually managed to find love in this world, and am married to a gorgeous werepuma named Nerissa who puts up with all my bullshit. And as I said, I’m the official consort for Roman, the son of Blood Wyne. While he’s my lover, Nerissa is the love of my life.

Delilah, second born, is six-one, has short, spiky blond hair, and is athletic as hell. A two-faced Were, she shifts into both a golden tabby cat and a black panther. She’s grown from a naïve and timid young woman into a confidant, formidable opponent and is engaged to Shade, a Shadow Dragon. Both are servants of the Autumn Lord, one of the Harvestmen, and Delilah is his only living Death Maiden, destined to one day bear his child. Delilah had a twin sister—Arial—who died at birth. Arial comes to help us at times in her ghost leopard form.

And then there’s Camille, the oldest of the three of us. Well, oldest being relative, we aren’t that far apart. Camille is a Moon Witch and priestess for the Moon Mother. Curvy to the max, with an almost plump hourglass figure, her hair hangs mid-back in raven waves, and her violet eyes are flecked with silver when she’s running magic. She has three husbands—a dragon named Smoky, one of the Svartans—Trillian, and a youkai-kitsune named Morio, from whom she is learning death magic. The four make a powerful quartet and are soul-bound as well as married.

Together the three of us make for a striking contrast, but we’re sisters to the core. Half-human, half-Fae, we had come from Otherworld to make Seattle our home. And as I said, we’re leading the front lines in a demonic war that threatens both of our worlds.

***

A sudden crash of thunder broke the incoming storm and the rain lashed down, driving hard. As I silently navigated the puddles, a gust of wind rattled the last leaves off the trees, howling as it whipped past. November had arrived with a vengeance.

Carter lived in the Broadway district of Seattle, in a basement apartment on a seedy side street. Hookers hung out here, and junkies, and street people who were lost and wandering, but Carter had hired a powerful witch to ward the area around the steps leading down to his place, and anybody questionable steered clear of him.

After we all parked in front and made sure the cars were locked, we clattered down the steps. Carter was at the door within seconds—he seemed to have an uncanny radar that allowed him to greet his guests before they could even raise their hands to knock.

His father was Hyperion, the Greek Titan. His mother had been a demoness. With curving horns that spiraled back over his head, the demigod seemed out of place in the middle of the city, although he could pass when he chose, appearing as a striking, but relatively normal, human.

Carter’s hair was tousled and reached his collar. It was the same copper as mine. He always wore a burgundy smoking jacket over black jeans. A brace supported one leg, and he walked with a cane. I knew how he had come by his injury—but I was the only one in our family in whom he’d confided.

Carter was a brilliant man, sensual and with a dry sense of humor. But the three of us all knew that he wasn’t a safe candidate for any sort of romantic liaison. While the sensual energy ran thick, it was dark in nature. He’d as much as warned me once that his playmates had to be able to withstand a rough and tumble time.

“Thank you for coming.” He motioned us over to his living room. As usual, the opulence was faded but neat, reminiscent of a different time. Carter definitely had his own style; that was for sure.

As we took our seats, Lara—one of his cats—a gorgeous twelve-pound black and white Aegean, leaped into Camille’s lap. She was soon followed by Roxy, Lara’s fifteen-pound white sister. Inundated under the weight of almost thirty pounds of fur and razor blades, Camille laughed, burying her head in their fur. I grinned as she maneuvered the two cats into petting position.

“I know you wanted to talk to us, but we also have a problem.” I leaned back, crossing my legs, watching Delilah as she eyed the cats warily. She slowly reached out and petted one of them. The fact that she was one caused territorial issues at times.

“Let’s hear it then. By the look on your face, whatever’s going down for you is worse than what I’m concerned about.” Carter tipped up the corners of his lips, giving him a rakish look.

We filled him in on everything that had happened. “So, have you heard anything on the grapevine about rogue vampires? And do you know anything about Severance Park?”

Carter let out a long sigh. “I don’t even need to check my files for this one. Severance Park. In the Greenbelt Park District—you know the history of the area. Heavily haunted, a lot of psychic activity has gone down there, abnormally high number of deaths—some of them unexplained.”

“What about rogue vampires? Anything on the grapevine about them? Roman’s swamped with some sort of political mess that his mother’s gotten embroiled in, so he’s dropped this one in my lap.”

The fact that Roman had re-sired me and now I was connected to the Queen of Vampires never failed to make me cringe. Roman was proving to be a good sire, and he’d solved a serious issue that had arisen for me, but being so intimately connected with the leaders of the Vampire Nation had—and would continue to—prove problematic.

Carter frowned and moved to his desk. He shuffled through a sheaf of papers. “Hmm . . . something is coming to mind—ran across it the other day but didn’t pay much attention.” After a moment, he sat down at his computer and pulled up his e-mail. Another moment of searching and he crooked his fingers for us to join him at his desk.

“Find something?”

He nodded. “Yes, I did. It’s brief, but maybe it has to play with what’s going on. A friend . . . well, here. Let me read his e-mail. ‘I heard rumors the other day of a new vampire club coming in on the down-low. I don’t know much about it, except they’re trying to keep under the radar. Not sure if they have anything to do with demons, though. All I know is that the owner is named Julian.’ That’s the extent of it. As to why they would try to keep themselves private, I’m not certain, but maybe to avoid Roman’s notice?”

“Hmm, Julian? Doesn’t ring a bell.” I shook my head. “Well, I’ll run it past Roman. He wants all vampire businesses cleared with him. I guess, if that’s all you have . . . so, why did you want to talk to us?”

Carter returned to the living area and motioned for us to help ourselves to the cookies and tea sitting there. As always, an elegant bottle of blood waited for me, and I was never sure where he got it, or who it had belonged to, but the blood Carter served me was like honey wine.

“Truth is, I’m worried.” A furrow hollowed his brow. “I have a delicate situation, and I’m not sure how to proceed. I’ve never been good with interpersonal relationships. I can’t very well write to Iris.”

I snorted. Iris had recently started up an advice column for the Supe Community Action Council, given that she was stuck at home all day with her twins. She was handing out advice on just about any subject, although some of the questions she got bordered on the freakshow side.

I glanced at Camille and she shrugged. Delilah frowned. When a demigod called you in to ask advice in his love life, something was wrong.

“Can you be . . . more specific?” I knew better than to prod any demon or half-demon. Or demigod. Or half-Titan.

Actually, I knew better than to prod anybody who could make so much dust and ashes out of me. A stake to the heart, being shoved into the sunlight, a little fire applied in the right way . . . Yeah, none of those potential scenarios sounded too comfy. And we had no clue how Carter would react when riled. We’d never had the ill fortune to find out. Then again, he had killed his foster daughter for being a spy. No two ways about it, he had a temper.

“You know I’ve been dating Shimmer—you remember? Blue dragon?”

“Yeah, that’s right.” We knew a little about her, but not much. For one thing, the Wing Liege had mentioned her. For another, we’d met her briefly here at Carter’s not long ago. She had left before we could form any real opinions.

“Something’s happened to her.”

We waited. Carter merely looked at us.

“Dude, you have to give us more to go on than that. Is she hurt? Did she have an accident? Do you need us to contact the Dragon Reaches?” Camille leaned forward. “We can’t help you if we don’t know what’s going on.”

He stared at her, then turned to include Delilah and me in his gaze. “I do not want you telling Smoky about this. If he knew the full story, he might treat her differently. I figure the Wing Liege will tell him if he wants him to know.”

Okay, so that was a knotty twist.

Camille frowned. “You want me to promise to keep something from my husband? What if it’s something he should know? That might affect him? You know what Smoky’s temper is like.”

Carter shook his head. “Trust me, if he needs to know, his mother and the Wing Liege will let him in on her secret.”

The demigod was leading us down a twisted little path. I decided to intervene. Carter seemed to listen to me more than he listened to my sisters.

“Camille is right to be concerned, considering all we’re facing. How about if we promise to tell Smoky and the guys only if push comes to shove? Will that work for you?”

Carter said nothing, just stared at us stubbornly.

Delilah let out a long sigh. “Carter, you have to work with us if you want our help. For all we know, this could severely affect the demonic war. We can’t make blind promises. You know this.”

Faced with our logic, he let out a huff and then shrugged. “Fine, but you don’t bring the men in on it—especially Smoky and Shade—unless you absolutely have to. Will you promise me that?”

By now curiosity was eating me up and I could tell Delilah and Camille felt the same way. “All right. Promise.” I glanced at the others and they nodded their agreement, Camille from under the pile of cats. “Okay, what’s going on with your girlfriend?”

Carter bit his lip, showing uncharacteristic vulnerability. “Shimmer’s been acting oddly. She broke up with me. I think something’s wrong.”

I tried to repress a snort. Camille’s eyes flickered with laughter and Delilah just stared at him.

“So all this worry because a girl broke up with you? Carter, dude, you drop lovers right and left when they don’t suit you. Now you get a taste of your own medicine and you think something is wrong with her?” The situation seemed so ridiculous that I wanted to laugh. Of course, not so wise to laugh at a demigod, but then again, Carter was our friend, and if you couldn’t laugh at your friends, who could you laugh at?

But he didn’t seem to appreciate my humor.

“If she simply wanted out of the relationship, I wouldn’t have any problem. You’re right—I do drop lovers right and left, and I don’t expect them to feel any different about me. If they want out, they have only to say the word. Unless they indenture themselves to me, I don’t play for keeps. But I mean what I say—she’s acting strangely. She isn’t herself and that worries me, especially since she’s a dragon, and especially since she doesn’t possess all of her powers right now.”

His concern sounded so genuine that we quit teasing him.

“Perhaps you’d better tell us a little about her background then, and what seems so amiss.” Delilah pulled out her notebook and pencil. Ever the private eye—well, ostensibly a private eye, she didn’t handle very many cases—still, she always came prepared.

“Shimmer was sent here as a punishment.” Carter stared at us, challenging us to react.

“Punishment? For what? And who sent her here?” Camille was looking as confused as I felt. Though the Wing Liege told us she was working off a debt, that’s all he’d said about her.

“I’d better start at the beginning. Shimmer was sent here by the Wing Liege. She now works for the Fly By Night Magical Investigations Agency. Well, Alex Radcliffe, the owner, is a friend of the Wing Liege’s, and Shimmer was assigned to work for him for five years. She’s working off a debt.”

“Alex. He’s a vampire, right?” Delilah had met him briefly at the Supe Urban Café, and we’d run across a mention of him rescuing a freelance operator for the agency.

Carter nodded. “Right. Odd fellow, but seems a good sort.”

“She’s working off a debt? What did she do?” Getting cast out of the Dragon Reaches was a big deal and usually involved some major crime. If we had a murderer on our hands, then we might be in trouble.

“She stole from a prominent family of white dragons. They caught her in their treasure trove, and she was lucky—rather than kill her, they turned her in. Shimmer was wingstrapped and dragged before the Council. Since she had never been in trouble before—read: never been caught before—they went easy on her. She was sentenced to five years expulsion, to work with Alex and learn some humility. The Wing Liege and Dragon Mages stripped away some of her powers for the five years she’s here. So, she doesn’t have full use of her innate abilities.”

Camille stared at him. “She’s lucky. Stealing from white dragons? It’s a wonder they didn’t kill her on the spot. They’re the greediest of the lot.” She fell silent and I knew she was thinking about Smoky’s father and what he’d done to her. It had been a horrible, harrowing time and she wasn’t over the trauma yet, though she was making great strides.

“She is lucky, but that’s not to say they aren’t still after her. Which is why I’m worried. Just because she was caught and punished in the Council Chambers, doesn’t mean the clan she stole from will let this rest. I’m worried she decided to end our relationship in order to prevent them from targeting me in a revenge attack. She’s got quite a conscience . . . when it comes to people.” Carter leaned back in his chair and sipped his tea. He motioned to the tray of cakes and sandwiches. “Please, help yourselves. Menolly, a bottle of blood?”

“So . . . how did she act? What makes you think something was going on other than her wanting out of the relationship?” I waved away Carter’s offer of bottled blood. I wasn’t all that thirsty.

Carter shrugged. “I guess . . . I’m worried that the dragons might be involved because she became secretive. She started looking over her shoulder when we were out. And she stopped talking about work. While I know she and Alex don’t get along, she usually respects him. But she grew unusually abusive last time she mentioned him. I know she doesn’t want to be there, but that doesn’t seem like her. She may not like her situation, but when we first met, she told me that she was going to ride it out the best she could. She’s really rather vulnerable, beneath her snarky exterior.”

“When did this all happen? When’s the last time you remember her acting normally?” Delilah was jotting down notes. Roxy decided it was time to make a new best friend, jumping off Camille’s lap to pad over to Kitten, who gingerly picked up the cat and gave her a quick kiss on the head, then handed her back to Camille.

Carter held up his hand. “I can tell you the exact date. Let me get my planner.” As he crossed to the desk, Camille flashed me a warning look.

“Blue dragons are connected to the water on an elemental level. They’re moody and highly sensitive,” she mouthed. “We might be in for trouble.”

I nodded. I didn’t know much about the dragon world, but Smoky, one of Camille’s three husbands, was half-white dragon and half-silver dragon, and she had rapidly been learning about the hierarchy and culture. Then again, if Shimmer didn’t have access to all of her powers, we weren’t necessarily outclassed.

A moment later, Carter returned. “Here we go. Six days ago, we went out for dinner. Everything was fine, and in fact, Shimmer told me that she had never met anybody like me and she felt safe around me. We had a wonderful day, and when she took off for work that evening—she works nights because Alex is a vampire—she suggested a picnic this weekend. I remember that, because I laughed at her and told her the weather would be crappy and she said she didn’t care. She loves the rain.”

That didn’t sound like a woman ready to break up with the guy she was seeing. “What about the next time you talked to her?”

“The next day she dropped by after work, before going home to bed. She seemed distant, and she said—and I quote—‘Alex is a fucking prick. He should just walk into the sun and get it over with.’ I asked her what had happened, and she said, ‘Nothing, except he’s a first-class asshole, and the sooner I get out of this hellhole you call Seattle, the better.’ I invited her to stay for a while, to relax—I figured she’d had a bad time at work—but she brushed me off and left.”

He closed the planner. “The next day she called and made an excuse to break our date. I asked her if everything was okay and she told me to mind my own business. Two days ago, I showed up at her apartment and she wouldn’t let me in. She told me to leave her alone.”

We stared at him. The look on his face told us he was feeling pretty bad.

“That’s quite the change in attitude, and you’re right—very abrupt. I’m not sure what we can do, but . . . we can go talk to Alex, see if he knows anything.”

Delilah grinned. “Let’s mosey over there. If Shimmer’s there, we can get a gauge on what’s going on with her.”

Carter stood, a grateful look on his face. “Thank you, girls. If she truly just wants out of the relationship, fine. But I have to admit, I’m worried about her. Even with her limited powers at this point, a blue dragon is a formidable foe, and if she’s developed a chip on her shoulder, then she could be dangerous. And if the white dragon family is after her, she might be in danger. I don’t want to contact the Wing Liege because if this is just a mood swing, I don’t want to get her in trouble.”

“Understandable. She’s already landed herself in enough hot water as it is. Stealing from a white dragon family? Stupid to the max. I can’t imagine what possessed her to even try that.” Camille shook her head. “Let’s head out. Delilah, do you know where Fly By Night is located?”

Delilah pulled out her phone. “Looking it up right now. I have a pretty good idea but don’t know the exact address.” After a moment she let out a curse.

“What’s wrong?”

“It seems that the Fly By Night Magical Investigations Agency is located on the outskirts of . . . guess where?”

I groaned. “The Greenbelt Park District?”

“We were about four blocks away from the building when we were at Severance Park.” She shook her head. “I swear, we should torch that entire neighborhood.”

We made our good-byes and headed out the door. Carter waved to us once, before closing himself behind his reinforced steel barrier again. He was an odd man, all right, if you could call him a man. Both incredibly powerful and—as we’d seen tonight—incredibly sensitive. Even though he said it was fine if Shimmer just wanted to break up with him, I had the feeling that she had touched a nerve. Just how deep of a one, I wasn’t sure. And I wasn’t sure I wanted to know, given Carter’s proclivities.

***

The wind had picked up even further and the radio warned of high gusts—nearing fifty to sixty miles an hour—coming through the rest of the night. Rain sleeted down, pelting the road like bullets, and my windshield wipers were working overtime.

I still wasn’t used to having my evenings free. I missed the smells and sounds of my bar—the Wayfarer had become a friend more than just my place of business. And when I thought about the charred ruins that had smoldered into a pile of rubble and soot, I couldn’t help but think about Chrysandra. She’d been my first friend at the bar. She’d shown me the ropes when I took over as bartender after Jocko was murdered—when we first became aware of the demonic menace threatening both Earthside and Otherworld.

Jocko had been a gentle giant. Half-giant, actually. And he’d taken me under his wing, treating me as nicely as he treated all the other employees. He’d also been an agent for the Otherworld Intelligence Agency.

That all seemed so very long ago. So much had happened since we were first shunted over Earthside. In some ways, I missed those days—nostalgia always set easier than current problems—but I also knew that the city had become as much our home as Y’Elestrial was. We’d grown up in Otherworld and so much of our identities were rooted there, but now we had dug deep to plant roots here. We had built a family with our loves and our friends. Our lives were in this city, right here, right now.

It had been over two years ago since we’d first encountered Shadow Wing’s forces, and in that time, our lives had shifted in ways we could never have imagined.

Driving through the rain-soaked streets, all these thoughts ran through my mind as I followed the GPS directions.

The Fly By Night Magical Investigations Agency straddled the border between Crabapple Park and Magnolia Avenue Northeast, which ran a line directly between the Greenbelt Park District and the outskirts of our own neighborhood—the Belles-Faire District. Crabapple Park was shrouded and a little bit spooky, though not as dark as Severance Park seemed to be. We had seldom ventured either place. The Earthside Fae who made these parks their home weren’t friendly and they didn’t welcome visitors. And of course, since Crabapple Park buttressed the Greenbelt Park District, it, too, held shadows both living and dead.

The building that the FBN Agency inhabited was a narrow three-story red brick walk-up. It was old and weathered, probably built sometime during the forties or fifties before air-conditioning and elevators were standard in office buildings. The red neon sign that hung in the front window was very noir, and I had a flashback to the painting “Nighthawks” by Edward Hopper.

As we headed up the steps to the stoop, I wondered how much business the Fly By Night got—were there really that many calls for snooping in the Supe world? But the agency seemed to occupy the entire building, and the rent couldn’t be cheap. Not in Seattle. Not for a whole building, antiquated or not.

Of course, vampires usually had a good stash of money set aside. Especially anyone who’d been around for a long time and was less than scrupulous. And I had no idea how old this Alex was, or what his mores were.

The brown paint of the double doors was peeling, and they creaked slightly as we opened them, but the overall effect wasn’t one of neglect. Simply age. Directly inside, a large office sat to the right, with a frosted glass window and on the pane, the words FLY BY NIGHT MAGICAL INVESTIGATIONS had been stenciled in black. A transom above the door only increased the noir PI effect.

Straight ahead, a staircase led to a landing, then turned back on itself. The steps were covered with a stair runner that would silence footsteps and keep visitors from slipping on the highly polished wood. As I took a closer look at the floor, I realized that, as weathered as the structure seemed, quality materials and craftsmanship had gone into the building. To the left was another frosty-windowed door—this one unmarked.

“I suppose we should try the main office first.”

I opened the door and the juxtaposition of noir with modern tech hit me. Inside, a comfortable waiting room sported chrome and glass, and the counter was grey marble, the veins a rich, dark gunmetal. The wall leading off the counter was sturdy, and a locked door led through to what must be back offices. The door was steel, and a faint purple glow emanated from it.

Behind the counter, we found ourselves facing a woman who was either older than sin or who had spent far too much time in the sun. A glint in her eye made me wary of crossing her. A cigarette hung from her blood red lips, and she puffed away, ignoring the NO SMOKING sign that was posted on the wall. Her boobs were huge, stuffed into a tight V-neck sweater, belted at the waist over a pair of stiff indigo jeans. She reminded me of some old biker mama. The nameplate in front of her read BETTE.

Camille and Delilah immediately began to cough. Smoke really bothered them. It had bothered me, too, until my lungs ceased having to work.

“Hi . . . Bette?” I approached the counter cautiously. There was something about her that set off alarm bells, but I couldn’t pinpoint what.

Looking up, she coughed and pulled the cigarette out of her mouth, stuffing it in the ashtray beside her. Her beady eyes glimmered with magic. Holy fuck, whatever she was, the woman was definitely not human.

She cocked her head and let out a crusty laugh. “That’s my name, don’t wear it out. What can I do you for?”

“We’re looking for Shimmer? She works here, I believe.”

Bette snorted. “Not no more she doesn’t. Hasn’t been in since—”

The steel door opened and out stepped a tall man. He was lean, lanky, and had a hard edge to his frost-colored eyes. His hair skimmed the top of his shoulders, the color of tousled wheat, and razor stubble covered his chin. He wore a pair of indigo jeans, a T-shirt that showed off his impressive pecs, and a pair of motorcycle boots and looked like he could have been either a biker or a cowboy.

“I’ll field this, Bette.” The accent threw me. He sounded vaguely Aussie.

“I’m Menolly D’Artigo and these are my sisters—” I began but he waved my words away.

“I know who you are. Your reputation precedes you. In any case, you won’t find Shimmer here. She took off last night, just after she tried to stake me.”

And with that, I realized we had just met Alex Radcliffe.

Chapter 3

Well, that wasn’t what we’d expected to hear.

I stared at him, not even bothering to ask if I was right and he was Alex. I pretty much figured he was, and if he wasn’t, he’d correct it soon enough. “Stake you? She tried to kill you?”

“Generally, love, trying to stake a vampire is pretty fucking close to attempted murder, wouldn’t you say? You should know. You’re one of my kind.” And with that, he pulled out a cigarette, stuck it between his teeth, and turned to Bette. “Got a light, sugar?”

“You’re trying to quit. No.” Bette snarled at him. Right away, I could see who really ran the agency. She glared. “It may not kill you, but it’s not good for your clients.”

“You’re a fine one to talk, you old bitch.” His words were smooth and playful, and she cackled before coughing again and spitting into a handkerchief.

I grimaced. They made for quite the pair, all right, and I had a feeling that neither one put up with crap from other people but most likely harped on each other all the time.

“That’s right, boy. You may be a vampire, but you just keep those snarky fangs to yourself. I’ve been around a lot longer than you have, and I still have use of my lungs, a pack of ciggies a day or not.”

“Your lungs wouldn’t be affected if you lit a bonfire in your mouth and you know it.” Alex let out a low laugh.

Bette slapped her leg and cackled. “Got me there, pumpkin.”

I didn’t want to interrupt this mutual, if bizarre, love-fest but we needed more information about what the fuck was going on with Shimmer. Being punished by being forced to work Earthside? Trying to kill her employer and stomping off the job—probably not a good idea. In fact, I was surprised Alex hadn’t put out a hit on her.

“Um, excuse me . . .” I wasn’t sure I trusted either one of this pair, and I wondered just how much Roman knew about this little operation. “I assume you’re Alex Radcliffe?”

The vampire glanced at me, a sly grin washing across his face. “Smart as well as cute.” As I started to frown, he crooked one lip and shook his head. “Yes, I’m Alex. And yes, I run Fly By Night. Now, why are you asking about Shimmer? Did Vine send you to check up on her?”

“Vine? You call the Wing Liege Vine?” Camille looked both exasperated and mildly charmed. “Are we talking about the same person?”

“That’s his public name, isn’t it? Yes, the same one that the lizard—your husband . . . or rather, one of your husbands—answers to. Vine is a friend of mine—”

“That’s rich.” I groaned. I hadn’t meant to say that aloud but, damn, imagining the stuffy Wing Liege of the Dragon Reaches kicking back and hanging out with this dude was about as amusing as trying to imagine Martin the Ghoul having tea with one of the Fae Queens.

“You think I can’t put on the airs and cavort with the upper crust? I’m ever so offended.” But the grin on his face told me that he still had a sense of humor. As vampires aged, it grew harder to maintain ties with simple humor and pleasures, unless you actively tried. The fact that Alex could still joke meant that either he was fairly young, or he had a good grasp on his emotions and had chosen to cultivate the human side of himself.

“I’m going to refrain from answering that one.” I turned to the others. We didn’t want to spill the beans on Carter, in case Alex hadn’t known that Shimmer had been dating him. No telling who knew what about who and we’d learned to tread carefully regarding any private information.

Camille glanced at me. “A friend of ours who knows Shimmer grew worried about her and asked us to check up on her. Shimmer stormed out after an argument and he was concerned that she might run off and do something stupid.”

Alex nodded toward the door through which he’d entered the waiting area. “Come on back to my office and we’ll have a little chat.”

We followed him through the reinforced steel door, as Bette gazed at us through a cloud of smoke. I wondered what sort of Supe she was. Elder Fae? Not likely. But then, what?

The door led through to a series of back offices—four in all, and what appeared to be a break room. All the offices were closed in, no windows showing, and each one had a placard with a name on it. I tried to read the names on the other doors, but couldn’t see them from where I was. Alex opened the door with the one that read ALEX, and that was all it said. No last name, no designation.

As we followed him into the room, I wasn’t sure what to expect. Given the noir feel to the building and the chrome-and-glass of the inner offices, I wondered which extreme Alex’s office would take. I wasn’t betting on either one, and once we entered the room, it was a good thing that I hadn’t laid a wager on anything.

Alex Radcliffe’s office was a mishmash of culture shock, a kaleidoscope of chaos. With towering ceilings, the room was easily sixteen by sixteen feet, and the ceiling must have been a good twelve feet high, though not vaulted. The walls were a brilliant thyme green, and the lamps were polished brass.

One wall sported a row of trophies. Apparently, Alex was—or at one time had been—a big game hunter. The string of heads included a rhinoceros, a hippo, a giraffe, and lastly, a croc. Had he collected these before or after he’d been turned into a vampire? I wasn’t much on sports hunting, but there was a period in time when it was acceptable, and these might have come from back then, depending on how old he was.

Glass display cases on the wall showed off a series of daggers and bowie knives. All of them looked used—while highly polished, there was none of that “display blade only” feel to them. The cases themselves were decorated with ivory embellishments, their wood old, though well taken care of. The glass was pristine, with no marks or scratches to indicate age. A bow and a quiver of arrows hung off a coat rack.

Four chairs, two to a side, faced his desk, divided in the center by a small accent table. The chairs were the same wood as his desk—black walnut—and were upholstered in black leather. We settled ourselves as he headed behind his desk. The desk was oversized with a sleek feel. The glass top had to have cost a pretty penny. A matching bookcase sat against the wall, along with a double filing cabinet in olive green.

Over his desk hung a giant swordfish, eight feet long and mounted against the ceiling. To his left, a potted palm towered ten feet, its fronds swaying gently in the breeze stirred up by a circulating Vornado fan. The office smelled of cigar and cigarette smoke—so strong I could smell it even though I didn’t have to inhale.

Alex retrieved a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. “Do you mind?”

Camille cleared her throat. “Actually, the smoke really bothers us. Would you mind terribly?” She politely avoided mentioning the public no-smoking ban that had long been a statewide law.

He shrugged and tossed the pack back on the desk. “Tried to quit a few times. Said the hell with it. Though I have to consciously remember to inhale now and half the time the ciggy ends up going out because of that. So, you’re looking for Shimmer? I’d like to know what the hell happened to her, too.”

“You said she tried to stake you?” I was trying to make sense of the man in front of us. He was unlike any other vampire I’d ever met. I even understood Brett, or VampBat as he called his alter persona. Brett had been turned while a nerdy young man. He’d been—and still was—a comic book freak who took advantage of his new powers and strengths to become the superhero he’d often wished to be. But Alex and his mix of noir cum chrome and glass cum big game hunter offices were throwing me.

“So sit and talk to me, lovelies.” Alex leaned against the desk, and I had to admit, even without the vampire glamour, he would have been one hell of a looker. With it, the dangerous glint in his eye took on a bedeviled look. Yeah, he was a charmer, all right.

We claimed the chairs, and I glanced over at Camille. When she caught my eye, she gave me a “what the fuck is this” look, but she was smirking behind it. I could tell she was amused. Delilah just looked a little confused, but she, too, had a slight flush to her face. Yeah, Alex had a way about him, that was for sure.

“So, first, tell me, have you checked in with Roman? If you know who I am, you must also know that I’m the official consort of the son of Blood Wyne. Why do I have the feeling you’ve been flying under the radar?” It was a hunch, but a strong one.

Alex arched his eyebrows, but a little “heh” escaped from his lips. “I don’t much cotton to authority, if you haven’t figured that out by now. I make my own rules, and try to stay away from stepping on the wrong toes. Of course, that doesn’t always work but I’ve got no beef with the Vampire Nation, as long as they don’t bother me.”

“You should register your business with the Seattle Vampire Nexus if you haven’t already. Roman prefers that all vamp-owned businesses in the area be on the rolls.” The minute I said it, I felt like an ass.

I wasn’t all that thrilled with collecting information on people, even though I agreed with the general policy of keeping track of the vamps. Mostly, we were trying to counter the hate groups and the rampant anti-fang factions, and the best way we could think of to do that was to be as open and aboveboard as we could. It sucked, but it was true—if people thought you were hiding something, they automatically mistrusted you.

“That an order?” Alex caught my gaze and I could feel the challenge.

I frowned. He was baiting me. “I can’t give you orders, I’m not the daughter of the Queen. But you’re putting me in an awkward situation.” If I didn’t mention Alex to Roman, I’d be lying by default.

“You came to me. I didn’t invite you to come here.” He turned to Camille. “Now, you wanted to ask about Shimmer?”

A growl worked its way to my throat, but I held it back. Vampires had a number of ways of issuing a challenge, most too subtle for nonvamps to notice, and Alex was definitely calling me on the carpet.

But even though I bristled, I also couldn’t help but acknowledge that he had a valid point—we had come here on our own, it wasn’t like he’d pushed himself into the forefront. No, we were the intruders, and regardless of the fact that Roman was my sire, I was reluctant to report on Alex. My natural inclination to buck authority and say “fuck you” to the status quo had raised its head.

Alex glanced at me.

As I stared into his eyes, something stirred—a feeling of recognition. I wasn’t quite clear on the connection, but this man had seen a lot of country, a lot of cities and towns and lives pass by. He wasn’t old like Roman, but he wasn’t new to the life, either. And the sense of loss was there. All vampires eventually went through it—people we loved died, families passed by, and friends faded into history. It was harder on Earthside vamps—FBHs lived such short lives compared to other races. Fae, elves, often matched or exceeded vampires’ life spans, but human vamps? They usually ended up alone.

Camille frowned, looking from me to Alex. “As we said, a friend of ours is worried about her and wanted us to check up on her. He said she’s been acting strangely.”

Alex shifted, looking vaguely uncomfortable. “Carter, right? Yeah, I think that ship has sailed. But it’s probably better for her. I don’t think Shimmer’s cut out to hook up with the master of pain.”

What the fuck? So he not only knew Carter, but had his own nickname for him. “Um, so you know Carter, do you?”

“Well, I know him well enough, from a distance. Trust me, I do not run in the same circles. I’m not into his kind of games. But the man is brilliant, have to give him that. And the Demonica Vacana Society has a history far longer than any other organization.” At my look of surprise, he winked. “You didn’t expect me to know about that, did you? Trust me, Menolly, the Otherworld Fae may have a heads-up on a number of things, but over here, Earthside, there are those of us who make it our business to remain in the loop.”

Why I’d expected Carter to be our secret, I didn’t know. He’d had a life in Seattle long before we’d arrived here, and probably would be around long after we were gone. And he made no secret of his existence to those he chose to befriend.

“Yeah, it was Carter.” I hooked my thumbs in my belt loops and leaned back, stretching out my legs and crossing them at the ankles. “She was involved with him. I suppose you know that, too.”

Again, the slightly uncomfortable look. “I know they were dating. I warned Shimmer to steer clear of him but she doesn’t listen to me all that well. But we have a rapport . . . or at least, I thought we did. Until she tried to impale me.”

By the tone of his voice, I thought Alex might have a little more than a rapport with Shimmer. “You dating her, too?”

Alex shook his head, a boyish grin on his face. “I am involved with a very possessive succubus. Let’s not go there.” But the slight catch in his words told me he very much wanted to go there with Shimmer. And probably hadn’t. And regardless of the fact that she’d tried to stake him, the attraction still lingered.

“Then, tell us what happened.”

He deflated then, his bravado softening. He slipped behind the desk and sat down, then folded his arms across his chest. “All right then. Shimmer was assigned to work for me. Do you know why she’s here?”

I nodded. “We know she was in trouble and sent here as punishment.”

He grinned, the tips of his fangs showing ever-slightly. “As much as I hate to think of working for me being classified as a punishment, yes, that pretty much sums it up. The Wing Liege wanted someone to keep an eye on her, and I’m damned good at that. And I owed him. Big debt. This is supposed to pay it off.”

Hmm . . . what had Alex Radcliffe done to piss off the Wing Liege so much that he’d have to take on a dragon for five years to pay off a debt?

“So, how long has Shimmer been here?” Delilah was jotting down notes. Apparently Alex either didn’t remember her from the Supe Urban Café or he wasn’t bothering to acknowledge they’d already met.

“Just a few weeks, actually. She wasn’t happy about it, either, and while she’s been taking it out on me, she never once threatened to stake me. In fact, it felt like she was starting to settle in a little bit. Ralph and I have tried to make the transition as easy as we can. This has to be a major shock to her system, especially losing some of her powers.” Alex paused. “Well, I’m sure the three of you understand that, abundantly well.”

I frowned. That we did. Coming over Earthside hadn’t been our idea, though we’d managed to adjust, and now Seattle was home as well as Y’Elestrial. More, perhaps, because of the wars going on back in Otherworld.

“Who’s Ralph?”

“Ralph is the IT guy for my agency. He’s a werewolf.”

That made me blink. Werewolves didn’t usually like vampires. Alex must have gauged my expression because he let out a laugh.

“Ralph is all geek. Chiphead. Whatever you want to call his type. He used to work for Google, but then he decided to strike out on his own. We’re actually neighbors. We met one night when he was heading out under the full moon. He was almost caught by the dog catchers and I happened along and recognized that he wasn’t a stray wolf, he was a werewolf. I managed to extricate him from the situation, and ever since then, we’ve been friends. Ralph owns a penthouse in the building next to the Shrouded Grove Suites, where I live.”

Camille let out a laugh. “Great way to meet. We have friends who live in the Shrouded Grove Suites.” The complex was a vampire-only apartment building, heavily protected against the various hate groups in the area.

“So, tell us when Shimmer began to change. You said she’s been here for only a few weeks?” The thought that her true nature was just emerging after the shock of moving ran through my mind, but I could be wrong.

“Yeah, a few weeks. She got involved with Carter right away—said she had to do something to keep her mind off being here. I think she was just scared and clutching for straws, looking for anybody who would be her friend. But as I said, for all the dragon arrogance, she’s a pretty good girl, you know? She’s not naïve, she’s smart as a whip and dangerous as hell if you ire her, but as much as she didn’t want to be here, she told Bette she was going to give it a fair shake. The two get on like whiskey and soda.” Alex’s face grew a little misty. “I do miss a good drink now and then, you know?”

Delilah snorted. “Yeah, because alcohol is the worst thing to lose in life.”

Alex glared at her. “Pussycat, you lose your catnip and tell me how happy that makes you.”

I stifled a laugh.

His good nature flashing back, he winked. “It’s all in perspective, girls. All in perspective. Here’s the thing, though. About four . . . five days ago? I noticed a shift in Shimmer’s attitude. She’s never been tactful, but one evening—we work nights, of course—she came in grumpy as hell. She seemed uncomfortable, and every time I said a word, she bit my head off. I’m used to her chafing—the girl’s still trying to get used to being Earthside. She has no clue how to conform to the culture here, at least not yet. Shimmer grew surlier as the evening wore on.”

“Maybe she told Bette what was bothering her?” Camille frowned and looked at me. I questioned her with my eyes and she gave a faint shake of the head, but I had the feeling she was playing a hunch.

“Perhaps. You can ask her if you like. The next few nights she was in and out, and when I demanded an accounting for her time—I have that right, as her guardian here—she told me to fuck off. Those are her words, by the way. I never use that particular sentiment around a lady.”

“You have an interesting sense of honor, Alex.” The man was intriguing me more and more. I rather liked him, though I had the feeling he was somewhat of a loose cannon.

“Yes, well, I was brought up in a household run by strong women. Anyway, the Wing Liege made her accountable to me, and she was deliberately disobeying him.”

I suddenly understood the dynamics. “You’re not just her employer. You’re her parole officer.”

“Right. But when a dragon doesn’t want to do something, even with weakened powers, making them follow through is a hard row to hoe.”

“What happened last night?” Camille leaned forward.

Alex stood and began to pace. “I arrived at the office. Shimmer was here—she was in a right state. She seemed frenzied—almost frantic. I ordered her into my office. She was standing over there, where you are, Camille. I told her I had decided to contact the Wing Liege to ask him to intercede—she was like an angst-ridden teenager. I had barely gotten the words out when she pulled a stake out of her purse and came at me.”

He leaned across the desk, his hands flat on the surface. His voice dropped. “I don’t suppose I have to tell you just how much I enjoyed that little surprise, now, do I?”

A shiver ran down my spine. I, of all people, knew what that felt like. Aiming a stake at a vampire was akin to pointing a loaded gun at a human’s heart. Not good. So not good.

“What did you do?” Delilah had stopped writing notes and was staring at him.

He cocked his head and flashed her a smile. “I leapt up on top of the desk, and as she lunged forward, I somersaulted over her head, turning to kick her one in the backside. Mind you, I don’t like hitting women—it goes against my nature—but when one has a big nasty pointy stick aimed at my heart, I’m not above defending myself.”

“As you should.” Camille shook her head. “I’ve got a feeling that she might not have been in control of her actions. From what you and Carter are both saying, it sounds like she’s being controlled in some fashion.”

“Whether or not she was in control of herself, the fact remains she tried to dust me, and I’ll be damned if I let that happen. But you may be right. After I kicked her, I yelled for Ralph and Bette. Shimmer panicked. She screamed, “No, no . . . I didn’t mean to do that . . .” then raced out of the office. We haven’t seen her since then.”

“Have you been to her apartment?” Camille shook her head as Delilah got busy with the pen again.

“No, love. Do I look like an idiot? I’ve been debating how to approach this. I don’t want to send Ralph or Bette—what if she attacks them, too? If I call in the Wing Liege, that’s it—she’ll go home and . . . they might kill her. I have called in some muscle to help protect the office from her, however.”

“Ogre?” Delilah glanced up at Alex, a faint grin playing on her lips. We all knew that Alex’s muscle wouldn’t be human.

“Nope. I have a friend who lives near here. Real character. He can animate the dead. He provided me with a couple ghouls and several bone-walkers, which are now stashed in the back.” Alex arched an eyebrow. “Hard to stop the undead, even for a dragon. Especially one who doesn’t have full use of her powers.”

With a faint groan, Delilah put down her pen. “Your friend wouldn’t be a necromancer named Wilbur, by any chance, would he? Wilbur Folkes?”

Alex cocked his head. “Yes, love. Why? You know him?”

“Oh, we know him all right. He’s our neighbor.”

Alex grinned. “He and Martin come over once every couple weeks and play poker with Ralph and me and Bette.”

Par for the course, I thought. It wouldn’t have surprised me if Ivana Krask, the Maiden of Karask, had also joined their little party. I pressed my lips together before a snide comment could slip out. But one look at Camille’s expression sent me into a peal of laughter. By the twisted smirk on her face, she had to be thinking the same thing.

“Am I not getting your little joke?” Alex looked from her to me then back at her again.

“Never mind. You don’t want to know. So . . . Where do we go from here?”

My first inclination was to stay out of the whole mess. A fucked-up dragon running around Seattle was so not a good thing. Not only that, but we had to make tracks on the rogue vampire situation.

But Camille nixed my idea in the bud. “Let’s talk to Bette, then we’ll go check out Shimmer’s apartment.” She glanced over at Delilah, who nodded.

Knowing it would do no good to argue—and to be honest, I couldn’t ignore the fact that Carter’s girlfriend was in trouble—I caved.

“Okay, let’s do this,” I said. “But first, Alex, can you tell us exactly what powers Shimmer still has available? We need to know what we’re dealing with. If she’s being controlled, we need to know exactly what we’re up against.”

Alex crossed to one of the filing cabinets in his office and flipped through folders in the second drawer, pulling out a blue one. Taking a seat behind his desk, he rifled through the pages.

“Okay, here we go. The punishment is temporary, effective as long as she’s here. She has to earn her powers back. As of now, Shimmer can only shift into dragon form while underwater. Blue dragons are water-breathers, you know, connected with the water on an elemental level. Her powers of flight are gone, too. They removed her ability to breathe fire. She still has super strength, to a degree, and limited forms of water magic. I’m not sure which spells she can still cast. And she’s unable to return to the Dragon Reaches unless she’s summoned by the Wing Liege.”

“That’s severe. Can she travel through the Ionyc Sea?” Camille paled. She, better than any of us, understood what it would mean for a dragon to be stripped of so many of her powers.

“Not on her own. She’s effectively soil-bound.” Alex shrugged. “Not easy, but she could have been killed. Had a hand cut off, or been wing-strapped for a long period of time.”

“I’m amazed that the white dragon family she stole from didn’t tear her apart.” Camille frowned. “So she can fight like hell, and use limited magic. Her hair still move on its own?”

I repressed a grin. That was one of the things my sister loved most about her dragon-husband . . . in fact, she jokingly called it bondage hair.

Alex snickered. “Yeah, it does. I’ve seen it. Though the Wing Liege cut it before she left. Her hair now reaches mid-back. It used to flow to her ankles, she told me. One more humiliation. I understand it grows very, very slowly.”

“That it does,” Camille sighed. “Anything else?”

He nodded, slowly. “The Wing Liege fitted her with a magical homing device in case she took it into her head to run off. If I activate it for longer than a few hours, he’ll know that she hit the streets. But it could lead us to her. I promised her that I wouldn’t ever use it unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

“Let’s hope she’s home, stewing it off. If that’s everything, we should talk to Bette and then head out.” Camille paused. “Alex, what the hell is Bette?”

He rolled his eyes. “She’s one of the Melusine. A water spirit who can change into a snake. A water moccasin, no less. Though mostly she stays in human form.”

Holy fuck. The Melusine were a strange race. They weren’t Fae, not really. They were dangerous, sensuous, and alluring. Their looks and age didn’t factor into their seductive natures at all. Bette might be off putting to us, but to an FBH? I had no doubt she was kicking the sheets on a regular basis.

“Where the hell did you meet her?” Not only were the Melusine strange, but they were rare, as far as I knew.

Alex laughed. “Bette and I used to be an item . . . don’t let your eyes deceive you. She’s one hell of a lover. But about a hundred years ago, we decided we worked better as friends. We argue too much when we’re involved, and we’re both as stubborn as a couple of pack mules. We’ve traveled together ever since. Good friends are hard to come by in this world.”

And with that, he led us out into the waiting area. Bette gave us a long look, then cackled. “You told them what I am, didn’t you, sugar?” She winked at Camille. “Chickadee, you’re just too pretty. I could eat you up, I could.”

As Camille coughed, I let out a bark of laughter. Delilah averted her eyes and I could tell she was trying not to laugh, as well.

“Well, you must want something. Spill it, girls.”

Bette’s ever-present cigarette hung off her lip, and her eyes twinkled in the most disconcerting fashion. I found myself liking her more and more, and that in itself was highly disturbing.

“We know you and Shimmer talked a lot. Did she say anything the past week that seemed off? Did she mention anything out of the ordinary?”

Bette frowned, reaching under her shirt to scratch her boobs. She caught my eye and yanked her shirt down a little lower. “Like what you see, fang-girl? They may not be perky but they’re all mine.”

Mildly horrified, but also insanely amused, I let loose with a laugh. “I swing that way but I’m spoken for. At least as far as women go.”

Bette snorted, then pulled her cigarette out of her mouth and tamped it out in the ashtray next to her. She sobered. “Shimmer said that she was meeting a new friend for coffee. This was . . . oh . . . five . . . six days ago. I didn’t think anything of it. That’s the only thing that stands out in my mind. She said that she met him online. She also told me that she was going to break up with Carter. She liked him, but they didn’t have enough in common.”

“Was she angry at Carter at that point?” If she had been angry, then the mood shift had begun before Carter had suspected.

But Bette shook her head. “No. In fact, she seemed sadly resigned to it. Said they just weren’t compatible but that she had learned a lot about herself from the brief time they’d been together.”

“Did she mention the name of the man she was going to meet?” Alex moved forward, a troubled look on his face.

Bette squinted, concentrating. After a minute, she looked up. “Actually, she did. Julian.”

“Julian?”

I stared at Alex. We had spoken at the same time.

Before I could open my mouth, Alex leaned over Bette’s desk. “Julian? Why didn’t you tell me this before? Are you certain?”

Okay, this was interesting.

Bette frowned, worrying a nail with her teeth. “Yeah, sugar plum. Julian.” Then she paused, a look of recognition crossing her face and she clapped her hand to her mouth. “Oh no. You don’t think . . .”

“Yeah, I do think. I knew he was on this side of the pond, and I knew he’d come looking for me sooner or later. Ten to one, it’s him. Damn it! He’s using Shimmer to get to me and now she’s caught in the crossfire.” Without missing a beat, Alex slammed his fist into the wall, shaking the room and leaving a lovely hole where the drywall had been.

“Care to let us in on the secret?” I caught his eye. He looked ready to spit nails and I could sense his inner predator rising.

“Julian’s an old enemy.” Alex’s gaze never left mine. “He’s a vampire, and he’s a sorcerer. Two hundred years ago, he swore he’d track me down and make me pay. It looks like he’s decided to collect.”

Chapter 4

Camille sank to one of the seats. Delilah joined her. I stared at Alex and Bette. Bette lit up another cigarette and both Delilah and Camille coughed.

I turned to Alex. “We happen to be on the trail of a group of rogue vampires. They’re turning people right and left. We have reason to believe that they may be connected with a vampire named Julian. He’s supposedly set up an underground nightclub. We just found out about this today.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. That would be just like him.” Alex shook his head, grimacing.

I leaned against the counter. “So. We seem to have a problem.”

This put a whole new spin on matters. If Shimmer had gotten herself involved with a rogue vamp, it could only mean trouble. Vampire glamour worked on just about any species. If Shimmer was already stressed out and weakened, then she’d be more vulnerable.

“Understatement of the year, love.”

“So tell us, why does Julian have it in for you? What did you do?” I knew better than to accept a brush-off and a plea of innocence. Alex was a likable sort, but I doubted he’d ever seen an innocent a day in his life.

He flashed us a boyish grin. “Two hundred years ago, I had an affair with Julian’s wife and turned her when she asked me to. Then, she kicked me to the curb and killed and turned him. Not surprisingly, their marriage did not survive.”

“Good going. Ever think it might be a no-brainer not to screw over someone with magical powers? Because you had to know he’d keep them after he was turned.” I facepalmed. “Dude, what were you thinking?”

Alex gave me a schoolboy grin. “Obviously, I wasn’t. Glory was . . . she was glorious. She was busty and smelled like vanilla. I wanted her, more than you can imagine. I had no clue that she might turn her husband to get back at him.”

“But Julian was a sorcerer. Danger, danger, Will Robinson. Didn’t it register as a bad idea?”

He grinned, shrugging. “What can I say? I was younger, and stupid. I wanted Glory. That was her name—Gloriana. Julian was always too busy for her, and she was alone a lot. It didn’t take much to reel her in. Hell, I didn’t even have to use any glamour. She was a sex fiend and he wasn’t up to the task, if you get my meaning. As I said, she’s the one who asked me to turn her. I was pretty free and easy then, so I didn’t think twice.”

There wasn’t much we could say to that. The whole mess had been over two hundred years ago. Trouble was, fallout had a long half-life, especially among the undead.

“Tell us everything you know about Julian.” I settled in beside Camille.

“He’s a sorcerer, and a vampire. I told Bette about Glory, and about Julian, but long after the fact. In fact, I think I finally came clean about them right before we were ready to head for the United States.” He flashed Bette a smile and she nodded.

“That sounds right.”

I glanced over at the Melusine, who grinned. “You were Australian, too?”

“No, honey. I’m from Greece, originally. I was traveling the world when I met lover-boy, here. I was visiting Sydney when we got involved. The Great Depression hit, and the whole area crashed, so we decided to strike out. We took a steamer to Ellis Island in 1933. Alex rode in a coffin and I pretended he was my dead nephew and that we were headed to meet family in America.” She cackled.

“So when did you last see Julian? And what makes you think he followed you here?” Delilah had her notebook out again.

“Let’s see . . . I last saw him in, I believe, 1825? 1830? He was hunting me down at that point. That’s when I decided to make myself scarce. I went on a world tour, the best I could, and ended up in Africa. I returned to Sydney in the early 1900s and that’s when I met Bette. We were together for . . . how long was it?” He turned to her, a fond smile creasing his face.

She snickered. “We met on January seventh, 1914. We were together till 1939.”

“So, when did you figure out Julian was over here?”

Alex shrugged. “Rumor mill has it that he’d touched down on American soil last year, in December. I’ve been lying low, trying to figure out if he really is here, but I guess we can lay that theory to rest as accurate. Bette, you should have said something to me the minute she told you about him.”

“I’m sorry—I didn’t even think of that Julian.” The Melusine looked chagrined, her cockiness drained out of her.

“Never mind. It’s not your fault.” Alex frowned, dropped into the chair next to me, and rested his elbows on his knees. “Julian is preying on Shimmer to get back at me. That would account for her shift in moods. Not only is he a vampire, but a sorcerer, and he can pack a powerful punch with that glamour. He’s probably charmed her.”

“Charming a dragon isn’t easy, but in her mood, with her reduced abilities, it’s possible. And a blue dragon would be far more susceptible to emotional magical attacks than others. If he’s started up an underground club here, and if, indeed, he is the one behind the recent spate of killings, then we really are in trouble. A rogue vampire is bad enough, but one with the powers of a sorcerer? Deadly. And one out for revenge? Even worse.”

“Agreed.” Alex rubbed his temples. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“Well, first we need to find out where he’s located. Alex, I have to tell Roman exactly what’s going on. Not only has Julian put Shimmer in danger, but it appears he’s encouraging his followers to turn innocent people.”

He caught my gaze, then slowly nodded. “I understand. If Julian has captured Shimmer, I’m responsible. She’s my charge, and I won’t let her get hurt because some freak has it out for me. You have my full cooperation.”

There was something in the way he spoke that made me cock my head and stare at him. Bette caught my eye and winked, but it wasn’t a lascivious wink. More of you just unleashed a terror. If Alex managed to catch Julian, all bets would be on the former to come out victorious.

“I’m grateful for that. But Alex, don’t run off and go chasing him on your own. You’ll only make things harder for us. So, give us her address, and . . . did you want to meet us at her house?”

“Yeah, Ralph and I will meet you there. Ralph has a key—she gave him one so he could water her plants if need be.” Alex stood and arched his back. Bones cracked, and he looked pleased.

“We’ll stop by our house to make certain everything’s okay first.” We exchanged phone numbers and he texted us Shimmer’s address. I glanced at the clock. “It’s eleven now, meet you there at half-past midnight?”

Alex nodded. “Sure. And . . . Thanks. If Shimmer’s in trouble because of me . . .” His words drifted off, but the sentiment was apparent.

Before we headed out, I had a thought. “I forgot something, go ahead and I’ll meet you outside.” As Camille and Delilah left, I turned back to Alex’s office.

He was sitting there, head down, playing with a pen. He jerked his head up when I reentered the room.

“Alex, can I have a word with you?” I wanted to make sure of him. Just feel him out a little bit more.

“I buzzed Ralph. He’s getting ready. What’s up?” His tone was light, but the look in his eyes said his mood was anything but.

“Tell me more about Julian. Do you think he’d hurt Shimmer?”

Alex pressed his lips together. Then, he nodded. “Julian was a callous man. Okay, here’s the deal. To be honest, I was friends with both of them before Glory and I got together. He neglected her. He threw away her love, brushed her off like she was dirt. Now and then, I think he backhanded her a good one. She’d often be sporting bruises she couldn’t explain. When I asked how she got them, she’d say she fell, or that she’d hit against a cupboard or door. All the standard excuses abused women have been using since the beginning of time to cover for their attackers. I know why she did it, but it just made me more and more angry.”

The pain in his voice struck me. Then, I understood. “You weren’t just out to fuck her. You were in love with her.”

“So what if I was?” He shrugged.

“And you thought she loved you back.” Everything made sense. Alex had turned her because she told him she loved him. “You thought you’d be together forever.”

“Something like that.” With a shake of the head, he smiled ruefully at me. “I made a lot of grand gestures back then. I was a romantic, I think.”

“I think you still are. And I think you’re terrified Julian’s going to harm Shimmer. So, you need to be up front with us. Tell us everything you can, because it will make our job that much easier. We can’t help you if you aren’t honest. We can’t help Shimmer.” I leaned on the desk, then made a decision.

Yanking off my jacket, I rolled up my sleeves. The scars that covered my body were intricate, carvings that had been painstakingly etched over almost every inch of me with an excruciatingly dull blade. “Trust me, I know what it’s like to fear showing your vulnerable side. I didn’t get these from a friend.”

Alex stared at them for a moment. “Is he dead? The man who did this to you?” His eyes were stone cold, and so was his voice.

“He was my sire, and yes, he’s dust. I staked him.”

“Good job.” He looked up at me. “You have a deal. I’ve told you everything I can remember, but if anything else comes to mind, you’ll be the first to know. And . . . just between us . . . Shimmer means a lot to me. More than I want to admit. More than it’s safe to admit, given my girlfriend’s nature.”

“I thought so.” I flashed him a smile and put my jacket back on. “But Alex . . . your girlfriend. Break it off before it gets messy. Because I predict it might very well be headed that way.”

He let out a hoarse laugh. “I wish it was that easy. But right now Shimmer hates my guts. And I don’t think she’s all that fond of me under normal circumstances. So, there’s really nothing to worry about, is there?”

I said nothing, but inside, I was laughing. Yeah, Alex, you think there’s nothing going on, but I can see it in your eyes and hear it in your voice. You’ve got a thing for Shimmer, and you’ve got it bad.

I hurried out to the car. As we pulled away from the curb, it occurred to me that all too often, one mess led right into another, and yet another after that. Praying this would be a simple fix, that Shimmer was just having a bad case of PMS or something, we headed for home to prepare. The storm broke, and rain lashed down sideways, stinging as it pelted against us. Yeah, back into the storm it was, and by the look of the clouds, this wasn’t going to be an easy one.

***

As we trooped into the kitchen, I saw a sticky note slapped on the refrigerator with my name on it. The writing looked like chicken scratch but I recognized it immediately. My wife might be a knockout, but her penmanship was atrocious. It was a good thing she’d had to learn how to type for both her current job and her prior one.

“What’s that?” Camille leaned over my shoulder. “Anything important?”

I snorted. “Nerissa had to go out with Chase tonight—they have an official function. Some bigwig party with a city official. Black tie and all that. Hmm . . . she says she texted me.” I pulled out my phone to check. Sure enough, a picture had come through of the pair before they left. Hanna, our housekeeper, must have taken it for them.

The photo was hot. Nerissa was tall, an Amazon in disguise, with boobs to die for and a sturdy but curvy build. She was also a werepuma and could rip your throat out if she was pissed off. She was standing beside our friend Chase—the detective in charge of the Faerie-Human Crime Scene Investigations Unit—and they made a striking couple.

Nerissa’s long pale pink gown set off her tawny shoulder-length hair, which fell in waves. Chase was wearing a black tux and tie—expensive by the look of it. His dark hair was slicked back in a retro fifties look. His eyes glimmered, giving away the hint of emerging psychic powers that were bubbling to the surface. Mostly human, he had a smidgeon of elf in his lineage that we’d recently discovered. In the picture, he didn’t look a thing like the new, harried—and practically single—father he’d recently become.

“Nice.” I grinned at Delilah. “My wife and your ex. They make a gorgeous pair. Think they’ll hook up?” I was joking, of course. Nerissa might be bi like me, but Chase wasn’t her type. And Chase was in love with Sharah, the mother of his child, and not likely to cheat.

Delilah snorted. “Yeah, that’s a likely scenario. Nerissa loves you, Menolly. More than you probably deserve.” But her voice was light, and I took the jibe with a wink. “So, what do we need to do before we head over to Shimmer’s?”

I pulled up a chair, leaning back as I propped my feet on the table. “Weapons, whatever we might need.”

“Hanna’s going to smack you if she catches you doing that.” Delilah pointed to my boots. “Down, girl.”

“Good point.” I hastily returned my feet to the floor. The last thing I wanted was our housekeeper mad at me. She wasn’t above strong-arming the lot of us when we fucked up. Camille and Delilah joined me at the table. “So, what do you think about Alex? Friend or foe?”

“He’s okay. I think I like him.” Delilah grabbed a handful of cookies off one of the plates. She was a sugar freak, and though we’d all done our best to stop her junk food mania, none of our interventions had taken. Oh, she ate apples now, but Cheetos and cookies were still her mainstay and probably always would be.

“How much do you think we can trust him?” Camille automatically grabbed two of Delilah’s cookies and put them back on the plate.

“Good question.” I hesitated. My gut reaction told me to say that he was fine, but truth was, Camille was smart to ask. I’d hammered it into their heads over the past thirteen, fourteen years—the truth of the matter was this: Don’t ever fully trust any vampire. Not even me, though I did my best to keep myself in check. But when push came to shove, I had warned all my family and friends to always keep some semblance of caution around me, just in case my inner predator decided to barge its way to the surface and take control.

“I think he’s on the up and up, to be honest. But we can’t be sure. I’ll call Roman again, see if he has any information on him.” But I stared at the phone, not wanting to rat out Alex just yet.

“Why not ask Carter about him? They know each other.” Delilah shrugged. “It might be enough to go on for now.”

“Good idea.” I put in a call to Carter and, when he came on the line, asked him about Alex. He confirmed what I’d sensed.

“Alex is reckless, but overall, he’s one of the good ones. He’s unconventional, even by Supe standards, and doesn’t knuckle under to authority. But he’s honest, and has an oddly heroic streak to him.” Then, with a chuckle, Carter added, “Alex has been known to rescue kittens and small children from dangerous situations. But don’t you tell him I told you so.”

“I won’t.” I laughed as I hung up. Somehow, I could see that happening, even though Alex would probably deny it. “So, Carter thinks we can trust him, as much as we can trust any vamp. Hey, you think Wilbur might know who Julian is? That freakshow really gets around.”

Camille snorted.

Wilbur was our neighbor. He was also a powerful FBH necromancer and a nutcase who usually managed to be on our side. He had raised his brother—as in, raised him from the dead. After Martin died from cancer, Wilbur animated him and Martin became Martin the Ghoul, and now lived with Wilbur like a sad, decrepit, stupid dog.

We figured that Wilbur had just been trying to cope with the loss of his brother, but seeing the pair of them—Wilbur in his ZZ Top getup, with his amputated leg, hanging around Martin, who wore a three-piece suit and who was conveniently controlled by the leash around his neck—was enough to shake the sanity of any normal person.

“We’ll drop in and ask before we head over to Shimmer’s place. Grab your gear and let’s head out. We’ll take my car.” I pushed my chair back and stood. It was time to get moving. With a little luck and a whole lot of prayers, we’d find Shimmer at home, nursing a mood swing, and we could go back to focusing on the bigger battles we were fighting.

***

Wilbur answered the door and his eyes lit up as he saw us. The mountain-man had been a member of the Special Ops years ago. He lived with Martin in a house down the street from ours, and thanks to a nasty battle we’d landed in, he now was missing a leg. But he’d gotten fitted for an artificial limb, and it was hard to tell that he was an amputee, other than a mild limp.

Crude, lewd, and usually rude, Wilbur had nonetheless helped us on numerous occasions, and we had a bit of a love-hate relationship with him. Well, a tolerate-hate relationship.

“What can I do for you, girls?” He nodded for us to come in. He was watching the Game Show Channel, and Jeopardy was on. He and Martin watched the show together on a daily basis. I somehow doubted Martin’s proficiency at answering questions—ghouls didn’t talk and were barely sentient—but Wilbur seemed to enjoy it.

Martin was sitting on the sofa, staring straight ahead at the television. His eyes flickered when he saw me. I’d broken his neck before I realized that he wasn’t a random ghoul invading our land, and Wilbur had been forced to affix a neck brace to him. Now, every time Martin saw me, he either cringed or kept well away from my reach, like an abused dog afraid of the person who hurt him.

“Wilbur, we’re in a hurry but we have a question. We know you’re friends with Alex, the owner of the Fly By Night Magical Investigations Agency. He told us. But we also need to know if you’ve heard anything in the grapevine about a vampire-sorcerer named Julian who may have landed here in Seattle between a year ago and now?”

I pulled out a chair from his desk, swung it around, and straddled it. Camille and Delilah hung back. They really weren’t fond of Wilbur and usually let me do the talking when we had to approach him. He was more touchy-feely than any of us liked, but I was best at forcing his dick back in his pants. Metaphorically speaking. I hadn’t actually had to touch it. Yet. At least, so far.

Wilbur sounded grumpy, and as usual, he took the low road. “That chair ain’t all that comfortable, baby. You can straddle my cock instead.”

“Dredging the bottom of the barrel, Wilbur.” By now I was used to the come-ons, and I bundled them up and turned them right back on him. At first, I’d threatened to pulverize him, but now I realized they were just part of his nature and I let them pass.

“Can’t blame a man for being off his game some days.”

“Wilbur, you’re off your game every day. Anyway, so . . . Julian?”

“Alex Radcliffe, yeah . . . I know him. Good sort. Rebel spirit like me.”

I wanted to say that Wilbur’s spirit was well beyond the rebel stage. That he’d crossed the line into psycho, but I kept my mouth shut.

He frowned, thinking. “Julian? A vampire-sorcerer? I know there have been several, but most, I met them down in the jungles when I was in the service. They were a fucking scary bunch—you don’t want to go up against their type. Ruthless. You think I’m a pain in the ass, they’re far, far worse. Up here, though? Nope. If I’ve met him, it wasn’t under that name.”

“Okay. That takes care of that.” I stood. “We need to get a move on.”

“You sure you don’t want to stay? Jeopardy marathon on.” And then, a glint shimmered in Wilbur’s eye and it hit me. He professed to being a misanthrope, but the man was actually lonely. And he was too abrasive to make friends easily.

“Thanks,” I said softly. “But we have to get going. Maybe another time.” As we left the house, he turned the volume up and the last we heard was Alex Trebek saying, “The question is, What is premeditated murder?”

On that note, we headed back into the howling storm, hoping to find ourselves a dragon.

***

Shimmer had bought herself a house, stuck Earthside as she was for five years. She lived on the edge of the Greenbelt Park District, where you could buy houses for a song and a dance. Too many places stood empty there, due to the nose-dive the district had taken over the years. A lot of short sales, a lot of foreclosures. Economically depressed compared to the rest of the city, the Greenbelt Park District was a hard sell. A real buyer’s market as long as you didn’t mind ending up with a ghost or two in the mix.

The house Shimmer had purchased was a two-story bungalow. One wall was covered with ivy, and sheltered by a large fir tree. Two cedars towered from the backyard, and the front was an overgrown tangle of fern and moss roses. The house looked old, probably built in the thirties or forties, and while it had the same air of disrepair that the rest of the neighborhood had, there was a sense of emerging renewal to it. In some areas the garden had been driven back, entangled brambles hacked away to reveal mossy grass.

The vines over the trellised arch that ushered visitors onto the sidewalk to the house had been trimmed, and while there were still spiders aplenty in the jungle of leaves, only a few of the argiope orb weavers sprawled across the entrance. The striped garden spiders built intricate and beautiful webs, and weren’t poisonous, even though they struck terror into many an arachnophobe’s heart.

Alex and a man who looked to be in his late twenties were waiting by a dusty brown Ranger Rover held together by large patches of primer and rust. As we hauled ass out of my car, they walked over to us.

“This is Ralph. He’s my IT guy for the agency. As I told you, he’s a werewolf.” Alex clapped Ralph on the shoulder, which almost knocked the Were off balance.

Ralph ducked his head in what seemed to be a hello. He was lanky and wore dark glasses that were a John Lennon throwback. At five-seven or -eight, he wasn’t particularly tall, and he dressed in cargo pants, a Doctor Who T-shirt, and Doc Martens.

After a flurry of hellos, we turned to the house. There were no lights on inside, not that we could see. A dim streetlamp next to the curb gave us enough light to see our way through the gate. Alex went first, bringing down the spiders with a big-assed knife that he produced out of a sheath hanging on his belt.

We reached the door and Ralph rang the bell. No answer. He rang again. No answer, again. Finally, after a third time, he produced the key and unlocked the door. A hush whispered as he pushed it open and slipped inside.

Alex followed, then my sisters, but I was stuck on the doorstep. Obviously, Alex had been invited inside before, but since I never had, and it was a private residence and not an apartment building or public shop or frat house, I couldn’t cross the threshold.

With a sheepish grin, Ralph turned to me. “Come in, please.”

Where the force fields emanated from, no vampire seemed to know, but they were there all right, until the invitation was given. Once the invite had been issued, however, the boundary vanished like smoke in the wind and I was able to move through the doorway.

Shimmer’s house was tidy. For someone thrown to the wolves, her world in complete upheaval, her home reflected a calmer nature than I would have given her credit for. Plants filled the room, nothing exotic, but full, vibrant twining ivies and philodendrons and potted violets.

A large aquarium covered two-thirds of one wall and it contained a rainbow wall of fish, some neon, others striped, still others shimmering and nearly translucent. The living room wasn’t spotless—books were scattered around on various tables. Shimmer liked mysteries, that much I could tell by the titles. She also seemed to like cookbooks. A bowl of half-eaten potato chips rested on the sofa, but the room felt comfortable and homey and welcoming.

I stopped to admire a large framed picture of ocean waves. They were cresting against a background of clouds and lightning, and while it was a stormy scene, it was also eerie and beautiful. The water was alive, and I could easily picture a dragon rising out of the roiling sea.

Ralph motioned toward the stairs. “Somebody check her bedroom? I’ll go check the kitchen.”

We spread out, Camille and I heading upstairs. Again, the bedroom was tidy but not spotless, but the bed looked like it hadn’t been slept in. A filmy nightgown was tossed across one chair, and fuzzy slippers sat beside the bed. As we poked around the room, a shout from downstairs alerted us. I turned and headed for the stairs, Camille on my heels.

We hit the first floor to see Alex reeling, an arrow in his shoulder. Another arrow lay on the floor, surrounded by glass. Delilah was nowhere in sight, and Ralph was trying to drag the vampire away from the window, which was broken. With one glance to make sure Alex was okay and not turning into a pile of dust, I headed out the front door.

Delilah was already outside, searching in the general direction from which the arrows had come. I joined her, sweeping through the grass. If there were any sign of footprints, they were buried in the heavy vegetation.

I wandered into the street, looking in both directions, but there was no sign of any departing vehicle, nor could I hear anything. But the wind had picked up and we couldn’t hear much of anything except the howling through the trees.

Delilah made her way over to me. “I have no clue where our bowman went.”

“Or who he . . . she . . . is?” I glanced at the tangle of Shimmer’s yard. “And we still don’t know where Shimmer is. I doubt if she’d stand outside her own house to take a potshot at Alex.”

“He’s okay?” Delilah pulled her jacket tighter around her as we headed back to the house.

“Whoever it was missed his heart. The first arrow broke the window, the second must have been fired immediately afterward and hit Alex.” As we pushed through the front door, Camille was kneeling over him, holding an arrow, which was a bloody mess. Her hands were stained with his blood, too, and Alex was eyeing her like a candy bar.

“Excuse me, what’s going on? Alex, my sister is not a snack.” I pushed between the two. “Where’s Ralph?”

Camille nodded to the sofa and I turned to see geek boy passed out on the cushions. “I asked him to help me pull the arrow out of Alex’s shoulder and he tried, I’ll give him that, but the second we started, he keeled over in a dead faint.”

“Ralph’s a sensitive type guy.” Alex grinned at me. “He can’t handle the sight of blood, at least while he’s in human form. Werewolf form? No problem. And I’ll have you know, your sister may have my blood on her, but I wasn’t going to bite her neck. I don’t drink from friends or coworkers. I’d have pulled the arrow out myself, but I can’t get the right angle to keep the barbs from catching in the flesh.”

Camille held up the weapon. “He’s right, it’s barbed. And I’ll tell you something else, it’s got one hell of a spell cast on it. It has a message embedded in it. Give me a moment and I should be able to trigger the magic so we can find out what the hell is going on.”

As she fiddled with it, Delilah knelt by Ralph, who groaned as she slapped him lightly on the face. A moment later, he shook his head and slowly began to sit up. Alex was back on his feet, the wound on his shoulder closing as quickly as it had formed. But his jacket had taken a nasty tear and I had the feeling he was more upset about that than he was about being attacked.

“Fuck!” Camille jumped back as a flash sparked against her arm. “That hurt! Damn sparks.” A moment later, a layer of paper, previously unseen, unfurled from the shaft of the arrow. She gingerly removed it and opened the scroll. “It’s our message, all right.”

“Read it.” I shook my head at Alex, who reached for it. “You just lean back and finish healing, dude.”

He snorted, but obeyed.

“Hmm, it’s written in a rather ornate script. Let’s see what it says.” Camille frowned as she skimmed through the message. “Lovely. Just lovely.”

“What? Read it.” Alex leaned forward, frowning now.

With a long sigh, Camille sat down at the desk. “Okay, here we go. But you aren’t going to like it.”

She cleared her throat and began to read from the scroll.

“Alex, I imagine you didn’t expect to hear from me after all these years. In fact, my guess is that you thought I’d forget all about what you did to Glory and, by default, to me. But unlike you, I have a long memory. And I intend to make you pay for every insult you sent my way, from fucking my wife to being responsible for my death.

“To wit: I have kidnapped your lovely protégée. If you do not deliver yourself over to me by midnight tomorrow night—November fourth—I will turn the dragon into a vampire and send her after you and everyone you know. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned about you, you don’t like blood on your hands. Not my kind of blood. Directions will follow tomorrow evening. Obey them. You know I’m not joking. ~J.”

***

Alex hung his head. “He’s really here, and he has Shimmer. We have to find her. I’ve done some reckless and stupid things in my life, and will probably do so again, but one thing I won’t abide is innocents being hurt because of my actions.” He glanced at us. “Will you help me, girls?”

Without a word, we nodded. Shimmer was in the hands of a ruthless vampire, who was also making himself anathema in the vampire community. We had ample reason to go after him. And only one night in which to discover his whereabouts. The thought of what a dragon-vamp could do in Seattle was terrifying. Shimmer could, even with limited powers, wreak havoc that we might not be able to counter.

“Okay then,” I said. “Let’s activate that homing device. And we’d better hope we get to Julian before he gets to us.”

Chapter 5

First things first. Alex needed to return to his office to retrieve the sensor that would indicate when we were near Shimmer. “It’s not precisely the same as a GPS—it won’t tell us exactly where she is, but when we’re within a mile, it will begin to flicker with a blue light. A steady light means we’re within a thousand yards, and the brighter it gets, the closer we are.”

“What good did the Wing Liege think that would be? It’s not much more than a glorified Trace spell.” Camille shook her head.

“I don’t know. It’s better than nothing, I guess. And since she can’t return to the Dragon Reaches, she’s soil–bound and can’t plane shift. Thank gods for small favors, right?”

I let out a little growl. “We also need to find out where Julian’s hiding his vampire club. He’s behind both of these problems, and finding him means putting a stop to the rogue attacks going on. At least we know who’s behind them now. Small favors, I guess.”

I didn’t feel comfortable staying in Shimmer’s house even one more minute, but considering that Bette had said Shimmer talked about meeting Julian online, the next step was to search her laptop. Ralph had set it up for her, so he knew her password and was able to log in without a problem. He pulled up her e-mail and, with me watching over his shoulder, began to sift through the letters.

Apparently Shimmer had taken to shopping online, that much was apparent, and she also subscribed to several Supe e-letters. There wasn’t much else there, except one folder labeled JE.

Alex let out a muttered curse. “That’s got to be him. Julian Eichmann. His last name was Eichmann.”

As I watched over Ralph’s shoulder, he flipped through the e-mails in the file. There were at least thirty of them, and we started with the oldest first, which was dated two weeks ago. One thing became clear in the first few letters—Julian was representing himself as a Were, not as a vampire.

The letters were mostly a batch of get-to-know-you notes, the usual favorite movies, colors, foods, conversations. But Julian quickly stepped up the pace and it became obvious that he’d done research on Shimmer. Either that or he truly was psychic—there were far too many coincidences in what they liked and believed.

“Normally, I’d look at these and say they were destined to find each other. But knowing what we do, it’s obvious the freak has been stalking her. He targeted her from the start. Is there any indication as to how they met?” I straightened my shoulders and folded my arms across my chest. Sick fuck, he was.

Ralph quickly sorted through the remaining mail. “Looks like he placed a personals ad in the Supe Community Action Council newsletter. Hey—look what I found!” He turned around so quickly his glasses almost flew off his face.

I leaned back in again. The e-mail was brief and it was dated a week ago.

Hey, Shimmer—what say we meet, finally? There’s a park close to your home, and it would be the perfect spot for a moonlit picnic—say 8:00 PM? I know you work nights but maybe you can go in a couple hours late? Please—I’d love to meet you and the idea of a blustery autumn picnic sounds so romantic.

Meet me at Severance Park. Don’t let the entrance to the park throw you off—it only looks like a tangle from the outside. Once you get near the center, there’s a lovely spot for a picnic, and a shelter that is protected from the rain. We can light a fire, have dinner. I’ll bring everything. You just have to show up. Please say yes!

***

“Apparently, she did. I just checked her sent e-mail and she told him she’d meet him. That’s the last note she received from him.” Ralph let out a long sigh. “I can’t believe she fell for that guy before she ever laid eyes on him.”

“It happens all the time.” Camille shook her head. “So, she went there, met him, and . . .”

“And he charmed her,” Alex said. “I doubt if he fed from her, though. I would have known. In fact, I know exactly when this happened. She came into work a few hours late—she’d asked for permission and I gave it to her. She told me she had to visit a sick friend. When I spoke to her on the phone, she was pleasant—well, as pleasant as our interactions ever get. But when she showed up for work later that night, she acted like a surly snot-nosed brat. Bette even mentioned that she must have gotten up on the wrong side of the bed, or that she had the dragon equivalent to PMS or some such comment.”

“So he’d managed to start working on her psyche.” I frowned. “Obviously, his goal was to use her to kill you, but that didn’t work, so he’s changed plans and now he’s using her to bring you to him.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t think of that in the first place.” Alex frowned. “Maybe he did. Maybe she missed me on purpose. She didn’t try again—and the woman is freakishly strong. Maybe we’re playing into his plans right now. Julian loves head games. Except he didn’t expect Carter to get involved. He probably expected Ralph and me to show up here in order to figure out what’s been going on.”

“We can speculate all we like, but the fact is: his plan might be any any permutation of the possible answers. Whatever the case, if we have any luck at all on our side, Julian won’t know that my sisters and I are helping you. He’ll be expecting you and Ralph to track him down without outside aid. Let’s see . . . he’ll be expecting you to investigate the park—which we’re going to do. But prepare for traps. Julian has played this out cunningly, from what I can tell.”

“Did you stop to think that he may have seen the rest of us here?” Delilah asked.

I thought about it, then shrugged. “Ten to one, whoever delivered the arrows wasn’t Julian himself. He’s bound to have lackeys, and he’s been siring off vamps right and left. Chances are he sent somebody to do his dirty work for him. But whether they’ve reported back to him or not? I don’t know.”

“What I want to know, is how did he know when we’d get here?” Alex asked.

That thought had also crossed my radar. But it seemed to me that Julian would have expected them to follow Shimmer home the night before, after her attack on Alex? So he should have had someone lying in wait here then if that was the case. I glanced around the room. Everything seemed in place, everything seemed normal.

“Maybe he bugged her house?” Camille began looking at the lamps.

The thought made a certain sense but . . . “Wait! Not a bug . . . no . . . what if . . .”

I jumped up and ran to the front door, opening it. The others followed me more slowly. I began to examine the lock. Sure enough, there were runes etched around the deadbolt. And that meant . . .

“Bingo! Julian set a spell to trigger once the door was opened. He kidnapped Shimmer after she had already broken it off with Carter, so it stands to reason nobody else was expected to enter the house until Ralph and Alex came to check on her. She probably told Julian that Ralph had a key, so he set the spell on the lock for when the key was turned and the door opened.” I motioned to Camille. “Take a look—can you tell if that’s what happened?”

She knelt to look at the runes. “Sorcerer’s tongue. I can’t read them but I can tell that opening the door tripped the spell. You’re probably right.”

“So the bottom line is, we have no clue whether Julian knows we’re involved in the matter.” Delilah frowned. “I say we err on the side of caution and assume that he knows Alex has friends helping him. I’d rather go in overprepared rather than ill-equipped.”

I motioned for everyone to follow me outside. Alex locked the door behind him and we headed over by our cars. At the side of my Mustang, I turned to the others.

“It occurred to me there might be an audio element to that spell, so I didn’t want to say any more in or near the house. Here’s the plan: We’ll go with you, but we’re not waiting till tomorrow night. If we do, he’ll be fully ready for us and we’ll be in more danger. We’ll go tonight to see if we can find her. Ralph, you go back to the agency. I hate to be a killjoy but you aren’t prepared for a fight, dude.”

Ralph gave me a cockeyed grin. “Don’t be so sure. I’m a werewolf, and I’m pretty damned strong in my wolf form.”

Alex let out a snort. “Ralph isn’t your typical geek. Maybe blood sends him into a tailspin, but the boy can fight. Let him come. He’s saved my ass more than once.”

I shrugged. Truth was, I’d halfway forgotten Ralph was a Were—he looked so much like a typical chiphead that I’d been thinking of him as an FBH—a full-blooded human.

“Sorry. My bad. So, we head to the park, and the two of you follow our directions. You willing to play this by our rules?”

Alex frowned. “I don’t usually go into situations with anybody but members of my agency. But to be frank, I’m more used to investigations and paranormal showdowns than I am actual fights, though I’ve had plenty of those in my day. So yes, we’ll play by your game. I’m responsible for Shimmer’s welfare. My past put her in danger. I’m not turning up my nose at help.”

“After we stop at your agency to pick up the homing device, we’ll head to the park. I’m pretty sure she’ll be there. They seem to be filtering us in that direction. But chances are they’ll have scouts, so we should park a block or two away and go in on foot. Everybody armed?”

Camille and Delilah nodded. Alex held up his knife. And Ralph surprised the hell out of me when he held up a pair of nun chucks. At my look, he let out a short bark of laughter.

“I was the runt of the Pack. I had to learn to defend myself. I know several forms of martial arts, and I can take down a three-hundred-pound man without blinking. If he bleeds, I might faint. But he’ll be down by the time that happens.” He winked at me, and in that moment, I decided I liked him.

“Okay then, we’re good to go. Everybody in, and you two follow us. Stay behind us. We don’t want them seeing us pulling up to the park gates again.”

And with that, we were off again. After a quick stop at Fly By Night’s building, we were off to Severance Park. The wind was raging now, along with the rain, and we were in for a long wet night of hunting in the dark.

***

Two blocks before we hit the park, I pulled over to the curb. This would give us plenty of leeway, and with the number of abandoned houses, chances are we could cross through backyards without being spotted from the sidewalk. And if some resident did manage to spot us, it would be unlikely they’d call the cops or come out to find out who the hell was passing through. The area didn’t lend itself to sticking one’s neck out.

Alex and Ralph pulled in behind us and Alex hurried up to our side. He held out a small device that was flickering with a pale blue. “She’s within a mile of here. I can’t keep this on longer than three hours, or the Wing Liege will be alerted, so let’s move fast.”

“We figured they were keeping her nearby.”

We were standing on the sidewalk in front of a decrepit house with a FOR SALE sign in the front yard. It looked abandoned, left behind by owners who probably had gone underwater when the housing bubble crashed, and who had long ago fled the yoke of trying to keep up with the mortgage.

I quietly organized us into a line of three groups—first would be Alex and myself. We were both vampires and it would be easier for us to see through the shadows and gloom. Then, Camille next to Ralph. Camille could keep an eye on him, and she still had room to prepare any spells that might be needed. Bringing up the rear was Delilah. She would guard our back.

Speaking in low tones, I whispered for them to follow me as I made my way through the front yard of the house for sale, and led them around back, into the gloom of what turned out to be a horribly overgrown tangle.

There were spiders everywhere and Delilah and Camille swore under their breaths as they pushed through the sticky webs. The wind wasn’t helping, either. It was on a real tear now, and even though it drove the rain against us like a miserable shower of pellets, the fact was that it was also our ally—it covered our sounds except to the most astute of ears.

The backyard was fenced, but it didn’t take much for me to scale and peek over into the next yard. The house had lights on inside, but the yard itself was shrouded in shadow and gloom, and I sensed nothing to raise an alarm. I leaned back down before dropping over the other side.

“Alex, help Camille, would you?” And then, I slipped up and over, landing on the grass below the rotting posts.

“Here you go, love. Upsy-daisy,” Alex cheerfully whispered from behind the wooden structure.

A moment later, Camille stared down uneasily from the top of the fence. She said nothing, but the look on her face told me she wasn’t having all that much fun. Alex leaped up beside her, balancing her as she scrambled to swing first one leg over, then the other. He dropped down and helped her lower herself to the ground.

I motioned for her to hightail it into the shadows. Ralph followed, managing it on his own, then Delilah came last, easily clearing the fence. Once we were all together, we re-formed our line, and skirted the yard, sticking to the shadows. Another fence waited on the other side, and once again, I scaled it first, to garner a look at what lay below.

Aha! The other side of this fence led to a lot filled with brambles. The land was piled high with them, and I couldn’t make out any path around them. We’d have to figure that out once we were over the side. No house was visible, unless there might be one hidden beneath the tangle, but chances were, the blackberries had just taken over the lot and now ruled it completely.

I motioned to the others, and then to the other side of the fence, and Alex nodded, waving for Camille to come up to the front. As soon as I dropped to the ground, I cleared out a space as best as I could, pushing the thorny bushes back as much as possible.

As before, Alex helped Camille over the fence, but this time I guided her down, trying to keep her from stumbling into the berry bushes. We went through the same game with Ralph, and then Delilah. Lastly, Alex swung himself over, easily landing on his feet.

“How the hell are we supposed to get through here without tearing ourselves to ribbons?” Camille glanced over the wild tangle. “Did every blackberry runner in the county decide this was the place to hang out?”

“Sure looks that way.” Delilah frowned.

“Make way, let me take the lead.” Alex nodded for us to shuffle around and give him the front. “I have been on enough safaris and jungle trips over the years that I should be able to find the path, if there is one. And if there isn’t, my trusty Juanita here will do the trick.” He held up his blade. “She can blaze the way. Juanita is razor sharp and I’ve skinned . . . well, I’ve skinned more than enough tough-hided critters with her before.”

I moved back and let Alex go ahead of me. He poked around for a few minutes, then jerked his head to the left, motioning for us to follow. As we made our way through a path so narrow I doubt if I would have noticed it, he hacked away at the tendrils crossing the trail. The going was slow, so slow that I began to wonder if we maybe should just head to the sidewalk out front, but one look in that direction put a stop to that thought. We’d have to retrace our steps in order to do so, because the path to the sidewalk and road was blocked from here.

As we worked our way into the depths of the brambles, the storm had intensified to where we were grateful for the brambles’ protection. The lot was actually two lots in one, so they covered a vast area, and now I remembered that the land ended at the street corner. Once we reached the end, we’d cross the street and be at the edge of the park. From there, we’d have to find an entrance, or crawl over the fence, but we’d be in and able to search for clues as to where Julian was stowing Shimmer.

Alex suddenly stopped. He turned, his face pale in the flashes of lightning that had begun to flare across the sky. “Problem straight ahead. Come up here.”

I slid past a couple suckers that snagged at my jacket, brushing them to the side the best I could. The brambles opened out into a clearing in the center of the land they covered. And there, in the middle of the clearing, lay two women, covered in blood.

“Fuck, fuck, and more fuck.” I pushed ahead, glancing around. There were no signs of anybody else here, but I could smell the blood. It was new, relatively fresh. As I listened, trying to home in on any sounds coming from the prone women, the wind rattled the branches, making it impossible to hear anything.

I hurried to their side, motioning for the others to stay at the edge of the clearing. If there was anybody here we didn’t want to meet, better only one of us be vulnerable. But no one emerged from the thickets—nothing disturbed the murk and gloom that surrounded the area.

Kneeling down, I felt for a pulse but one look told me I wouldn’t find any. Puncture wounds ripped their throats—someone had fed on them, and fed savagely. And . . . oh hell. Blood stained their lips. They had drunk before they died. Which meant . . .

“We’ve got two newly minted vamps here,” I called over to Alex and the others. “Get over here now.”

When a vamp was newly minted, as we called new sirelings in the Vampire Nation, the body would take anywhere between thirty minutes to two days to rise. The time it took depended on the age of the sire, their strength, and the bloodline through which they were sired. So if these women had truly been forced to drink before they died, then anywhere between now and a couple days should see them rise.

Alex joined me. “Should we stake them? Help them rise and become productive members of society?”

His sarcasm wasn’t lost on me, but I ignored it. “I don’t think they’re going to be all too friendly if they’re sired by the same batch that Roman’s guards had to put—Watch out!”

Even as I spoke, one of the women launched herself into a sitting position. Instead of looking confused and dazed, like most new vamps, her eyes were blood red and she looked hungry. She was into a crouching position before I could step back, as her friend woke up, too.

“We’ve got trouble, get back!” I called to the others.

“Fuck a duck,” Alex muttered under his breath, then quickly added, “’Scuse the language, ladies.” He pulled out his knife. “Juanita here is going to have to stand in for a stake.”

“I don’t have any such luxury.” I launched myself at the crouching vamp and she met me chest-on. As I grappled the woman, she tried to bite me and I could feel the hunger roiling off her in a wave of anger and fury. She was fully in the grasp of her predator and there would be no reasoning with her. The same with her friend. As we went down, with me on top of her, she scrabbled at me, her nails already sharp and hard.

Vamps’ nails changed when they died—one of the few things that did—and grew long and hard. My own never broke or took damage, and like the rest of me, if something smashed my hand bad enough to actually hurt the nail, it would eventually grow back along with my hand healing up. Our hair would not regrow. Our talons—definitely.

I growled, grabbing her by the hair. She screeched, like a Bean Sidhe, her howl muffled by the brambles and the wind, her face a mask of feral hunger. My own predator kicked in and I tightened my grasp on her long locks. She had been a beautiful woman when alive—that I could tell, but now she was a fury of teeth and nails, her fangs extending as her cravings grew stronger. I knew what she was feeling because I remembered my own awakening—Dredge had set me to race home and destroy my family.

And I had, until Camille tricked me into the safe room and locked me in until help could arrive. I’d broken her arm. Luckily, that’s all the damage she took from me. But I could still remember the insatiable hunger, the thirst that burned my throat till I had to have blood.

Now, I could see the same thirst, the same frantic need, in this woman’s eyes. For a moment, I felt sorry for her. My guess? She hadn’t asked for this. She was a toy in someone’s demented game. But there was no going back, and now she might as well be a rabid dog. I didn’t have time to gain control over her, and even if I could, there was a chance she’d never snap out of it. And so, even as she came at me again, I yanked her neck, hard, breaking it. As she floundered, Alex dove in with his knife, skewering her in the heart.

She stiffened, her eyes wide with surprise, and the next moment, vanished into a puff of dust—ashes caught up in the wind. She was gone, forever this time.

A shout made me turn. Ralph had moved in on the other vampire, and he and Delilah were holding her down, though it was taking all their efforts from what I could tell. Camille had broken a briar branch off and now she stabbed it hard, bringing it down on the woman’s chest. The lignified vine hit, and Camille pushed hard as the vine penetrated the woman’s heart. With a shout, my sister fell on the vine, throwing all her weight on it, and it pierced through. Seconds later, the vampire vanished into dust, too, joining her companion.

Alex offered me his hand and I took it, happy to have the help. I didn’t need it, but after everything we’d already been through this evening, the offer was comforting.

“Well, that was unexpected. And unwelcome. It seems Julian and his friends are having a field day siring vamps. We have to put a stop to him. Now, let’s get through this bramble patch and over to the park.” I motioned for Alex to take the lead again.

“Look,” he said, holding out the small handheld beacon. The light was glowing steadily. “She’s not that far away. Let’s get a move on.”

This time, he was able to find a small trail that led into the other side of the brambles. Most likely the local teens had forged a path into the clearing from the street. And now, they were using it as a make-out spot. Whatever the case, it stood us in good stead and we were able to make better time. Another ten minutes and we were out the other side.

Severance Park was across the street, and a row of dim streetlamps cast shadows on the trees whipping in the wind. I turned back to glance at Camille, Delilah, and Ralph, all of whom looked miserable, wet, and cold. Alex and I could handle the downpour without a problem, but they looked like drenched kittens.

“You guys still good?”

Camille answered for the group. “We’ve been through worse. Remember, I played mermaid in the ocean of a god’s mind.” She forced a smile through the drenching rain. Delilah and Ralph nodded their agreement.

“Let’s go.” Ralph didn’t even bother trying to clear his glasses, just squinted behind them.

And so, we crossed the street. There was no traffic, but the less time we were in plain view, the better.

The park was surrounded by a tall steel fence, but we lucked out—there were entrances on all four sides. Or at least, two of them that we knew of. We wouldn’t have to scale the barrier after all. And being a city park, it was open all night rather than closing at dusk like the state parks.

We slipped through the entrance, to find ourselves on an overgrown path. City maintenance was underfunded, but this was ridiculous. Maybe they had trouble getting their crews to work here, for all I knew. Whatever the case, the park had been let go and was a tangle of vegetation.

The trees—what deciduous ones there were—stood barren, their limbs stripped of leaves by the wind and the rain. They had that ooo-spooky autumn look, and their branches thrust into the night sky, like silhouettes of giant spider legs. The ground was slick with detritus and debris. Mostly, moss that was overtaking the sidewalks and cast-off leaves and fir needles that had dropped.

Unsure where to start, I glanced back at Alex for his thoughts.

He frowned. “They were going to contact me with directions tomorrow night. If you were a rogue vampire sorcerer, holing up in a park, where would you hide?” He cast his glance from side to side.

Ralph, who was tapping away on his iPhone, pushed forward. “I know where we should start looking.”

Startled, I turned to him. “Where?”

“Julian mentioned a shelter in his e-mail to her. Well, there’s a mausoleum in the park, near the center. It’s empty now, and overgrown, but this used to be a private estate before the Severance family willed it to the city. There were seven members of their family interred there at one time.”

“Oh, this just keeps getting better and better. A mausoleum? What else do you know about this park? Anything you can tell us in the next few minutes?” Ralph was rivaling Carter for information right now. At least info that we needed at the moment.

Ralph tapped away, his fingers flying over the tiny keyboard. “The family donated the land to the city when one of their members—Clyde—went fucknut crazy and let loose at a family gathering with a semi-automatic weapon. Good old Clyde killed seven members of the family, including two children, before a family friend—Teddy—pulled out yet another gun, this one a revolver, and shot him dead. This was back in the forties. The family decided they couldn’t handle the memories.”

“So they donated the land instead of selling it?” Delilah frowned. “Rich?”

“Rich, much. They could afford a freaking mausoleum, and the park itself is fifteen acres. So yeah, they donated it. Bunny, the matriarch of the family, is quoted as saying she thought God would have wanted it that way. They moved away from the city after that, to one of the suburb communities.” He slipped his phone back into his pocket. “Mausoleum is ahead and to the right.”

Alex glanced at Ralph’s phone for a moment, at the map of the park, then took the lead, with me at his side. We wound through the sidewalks, trying to listen for anything that might be approaching, but over the storm, it was impossible. By now, we were all thoroughly soaked and Delilah was muttering under her breath. She hated being wet, only taking showers out of necessity. She was always clean and well groomed, but you’d never find her taking a bubble bath for pleasure.

As we rounded a dark bend in the road, Alex motioned for us to slow. “Mausoleum coming up on the left, about fifty yards ahead. We might want to slow down and take a gander around the edges of the clearing before heading in.”

“I can do that.” I stepped away from them and, willing myself to transform, morphed into my bat self. Ever since Roman had re-sired me, my ability to shift into bat form had taken on a new and successful tone. Before that, I’d been hopeless, more comical than anything else.

The others slipped back into the shadows and waited. I paused for a moment, getting my bearings, then swooped off to the left. As I circled, fighting the wind, I saw the building up ahead. It was a tangle, overgrown with ivy and some sort of flowering vine, and the ferns clustered thick around its base. The mausoleum had once been white, but now looked aged and decrepit, and the columns were covered with graffiti—even with my poor eyesight in bat form, I could see that.

As I swooped around the structure, a movement caught my eye—something was prowling around in back of it. I tilted, gliding to the right in order to catch a better glimpse of what it was. There, skulking around the perimeter, were two figures. Both looked ragged and dirty—with matted hair and torn clothing. And when they paused, looking up in my direction, I could see the red glow of their eyes. Vampires. Had they seen me?

They sniffed, I could see them testing the air, then one looked at the other and said something, shaking his head. They went back to what they were doing, then vanished behind a large huckleberry bush. When they didn’t come out again, I flew a little lower, trying to see what was going on.

I couldn’t sense them there. Logically, they should have come out the other side, but so far, no sign of them. Another minute, and I cautiously touched down behind a nearby cedar tree. I shifted back into my usual form and crept out from behind the trunk, carefully listening for any sign of anybody around. But all I could hear was the downpour that pelted the ground with fat drops of rain.

Another moment, and I came to the huckleberry bush. Gingerly moving one branch out of the way, I peeked behind it. And there, I found what we were looking for. A narrow stairwell led down to a lower level behind the mausoleum.

As I stepped back, preparing to go alert the others, the sound of a door opening caught my attention. I made a jump for the cedar, praying I hadn’t been seen.

Chapter 6

A tall woman appeared from the stairwell. I’d never seen her before, but I knew she was a vampire. She had a European look to her, which was hard to put into words. But . . . there was a certain flair, an exotic bent to her. Her ink-black hair was layered, neatly trimmed into a chin-length bob with bangs as straight as a razor’s edge. Dressed in an expensively tailored, form-fitting jumpsuit, her body was lean and tight, and she walked with a grace that made me think she’d been a vampire for a very long time.

She paused, glancing around, and for a moment I thought she had spotted me, but then she launched herself into the air and, in bat form, soared up and out of sight. She managed it so gracefully that, again, I thought, this woman had to have been turned either a long time ago, or she had a powerful sire.

As she flew off to the east, I thought about following her but scrapped the idea. Even though I was now adept at transforming, if she were to come at me in bat form, I’d have no fucking idea what to do. Instead, I waited till she had vanished from sight, and then headed back to the others to tell them what I found.

Alex cocked his head. “Hmm . . . sounds like he may have found himself a partner. But honestly? I don’t think we should assume Julian’s club is down there. He’s smarter than to give himself away too easily. But something is going on down at the bottom of that mausoleum, and Shimmer is nearby. So we’d better get our asses down there.”

“And if he’s not there, we should at least have a better idea of what to expect.” I frowned. “I wonder if this is the only entrance to the bottom level?”

“Or even if there’s only one level belowground? There could be more.” Delilah chewed on the inside of her lip. “I think we have to be prepared for anything—go in with no preconceptions.”

She gave me a guarded gaze and I wondered if she had some sort of premonition, but then realized that she was just making good sense.

“Truth, that.” Camille shifted her weight to one hip. “I think, if there are other entrances, they probably don’t come out by the base of the mausoleum. It’s not that big of a structure so here’s betting that what lies below ground is larger, and want to make a wager there’s a system of tunnels attached? It wouldn’t make sense to have all entrances congregated at the foot of the building.”

“Makes sense. But we don’t have time to go looking for other entrances. We prowl around here too much and they’ll notice us for sure.” A thought struck me. “However, we can’t rule out a secret entrance from inside of the mausoleum.” I glanced at the others. “Okay, here’s the plan. First, Alex, you and I slip into the building and search for a secret entrance. If we find one, we’ll come back here, get you guys, and go in that way. If we don’t find one, we have to storm the front door, so to speak.”

I waited, but no one objected. Camille, Delilah, and Ralph tucked themselves behind a stand of nearby fir trees, crouching behind the ferns. The ferns were dying off for the season, but they still provided enough cover to hide behind. Alex and I shifted form, and went winging toward the mausoleum. He was fairly graceful in flight.

As we flew through the front entrance to the mausoleum, which was ajar, I was relieved to see no one in sight. We landed, turning back into ourselves, and cautiously proceeded to take stock of the situation.

The building was small, like most family mausoleums, with plaques on the walls that indicated where the members had been interred. Now, of course, the bodies and coffins had been moved, but it was still sobering to see the attempts FBHs went to in order to keep time from eroding their loved ones’ remains.

The ivy outside had found chinks in the stone, and now the vines wove around pillars and handholds, gripping tightly to the inner walls. It was thick, and spiders were using the foliage as anchors for their webs, which created a wall of spiderwebs, a city of the creatures.

There were two stone benches inside, no doubt for those who had come to mourn. Otherwise, there were a few broken crates, and scattered debris from the teens and the curious who had wandered through the park.

We searched the base of the benches. Nothing. Then, a thought occurred to me. What about the slots for the coffins? The lockers, so to speak? I hurried over to the wall and tugged on one of the stone doors that guarded the dead. It reluctantly opened, and I shone my mini-flashlight inside, looking for anything that might indicate a secret entrance. It was impossible to see from out here and so I glanced back at Alex.

“I’m going in. Watch my back.” He could lock me in, if he wanted. It went against my nature to trust him like this, but there wasn’t time for paranoia.

“Got it. Go.” He nodded for me to crawl inside, as he took up watch, his back to the wall.

I shimmied inside the stone hole. Rectangular, large enough for a coffin plus a few inches, it meant my size worked for me. I was petite enough to manage a fit that left me wiggle room and the ability to turn over. As I elbowed my way along, I examined the walls, floor, and ceiling of the tube. Nothing that I could see. No triggers, no hidden levers.

I scrunched back out and dropped to the floor, shuddering. Vampire or not, I still didn’t like tightly enclosed spaces.

“That one’s a no-go. Next?”

Alex yanked open the next stone plug, and once again, I squirmed inside. Again, nada. Same with the third, fourth, fifth, and sixth. By the time we approached the seventh coffin slot, I was beginning to doubt that we were on to anything. At the eighth, I was sure of it. But we’d check all ten just to make certain. On number nine, I was glad we’d kept going.

There, on the right side of the slot, was a lever. I examined it, then a thought occurred to me. This locker was on the bottom row. Bottom left, buttressing up against a wall. I shimmied back out of the tube and began to search the wall next to it. Sure enough, so faint I probably wouldn’t have noticed it if I hadn’t been looking, was the outline of a door. I motioned for Alex to join me, and silently traced my finger around the indentations.

We’d been talking in low whispers, but now that we’d found this, I didn’t want any chance of being overheard. Alex nodded, then gestured toward the park where the others were waiting. I stood back, transforming into a bat as he replaced the cover on the slot. If we hadn’t been noticed by now, no sense in giving any more of a heads-up than needed. In another moment, he had joined me and we flew off, back to the trees.

“There’s a secret door and I’ll bet you anything it leads below. We have to get into the mausoleum without being seen. Since none of us can travel through the Ionyc Sea, I suggest we track around front, keeping out of sight, then make a beeline for the entrance. We’ll still be chancing things but we’ll have to risk it.”

Camille and Delilah nodded. Ralph shrugged, apparently willing to go along with anything we might suggest. And so, we waded through the undergrowth, under cover of the storm, till we were behind a yew tree that stood near the front of the mausoleum. There was nobody in sight.

The downpour had become a thunderstorm, as well, and now in addition to the wind and driving rain, we had forks of lightning lighting up the sky, and thunder crashing in rolling waves. This storm would probably go down in the record books, that was for certain. Puddles of water had gathered along the sidewalk where the cement had sunk, and we were all so wet that any thought of drying off had gone by the wayside.

One by one, we slipped along the edge of the path and up the steps, sliding through the partially opened door. When we were all inside, I held up my hand for silence as Alex shone his flashlight over to the ninth coffin locker. I yanked off the stone closure and motioned for the rest of them to get ready, then flipped the lever I’d found inside.

Slowly, the outline I’d found on the wall began to slide open—a heavy secret door, stone on what looked to be iron hinges, swung inward. It swung silently, which told me that somebody must have oiled it over the years because iron didn’t last long in this climate without rusting.

The opening led to a staircase going down. Sure enough, as I thought—we’d found another entrance to the lower level. The darkness loomed from below but it was easy to see only one of us could go at a time and we had to descend without using light. Which meant anybody down below would be able to see us. But there was no help for it.

I motioned for Alex to take up the rear. Best to have a vamp in back just in case someone decided to tail us. Delilah moved up behind me, then came Camille, then Ralph right in front of Alex.

Delilah held the flashlight over my shoulder, so I could have both hands free should anything come at us. I motioned for her to shine it on the steps so I could see if there were any drop-offs or broken stairs or anything out of the usual.

As we eased down the steps, the noise from the storm became muffled, which helped us to listen for anything that might be ahead of us. The steps switched about ten stairs down, turning back on themselves, and when we came to a landing, we were facing a door. Again, it was made from stone, but this one wasn’t secreted away; it was in plain sight.

I paused as Alex leaned forward to tap me on the shoulder. He pointed to the homing device, which was glowing a steady blue now—no flickering, no wavering. We were getting closer.

Slowly, I grasped the handle and eased the door open, holding my breath. A silent rush of air gusted past and I found myself looking into a tunnel. Nobody was in sight, so we headed in, Alex cautiously closing the door behind us. Once in the tunnel, I whispered for Delilah to turn off the flashlight. Pale lights—electric by the look of them, or perhaps battery operated—lined the walls. We wouldn’t have to worry about our light alerting anybody here.

The tunnel was roughly carved, but looked old—as old as the actual building. Which begged the question as to what the hell the Severance family had needed with an underground tunnel.

We slipped through the passageway, stopping for a brief moment while Delilah examined the lights. She whispered, “Generator is my guess. They aren’t battery operated.”

We were on a sloping grade, though it wasn’t terribly steep. Some twenty yards in, I paused. Up ahead, there was an opening—we were approaching either a juncture point or a larger room. I held up my hand, pointing ahead, then motioned for them to stay put while I slipped up to the opening.

As I peeked around the edge, I caught sight of something I hadn’t expected. No vampire club, or even a slavery setup like I thought we might encounter. Instead, the opening led into an underground room, dim and gloomy yes, but it was furnished like a luxurious living room. Leather sofas and chairs, heavy old wood in tables and bookshelves, china vases on plinths . . . what the hell had we stumbled into?

And then, my attention was caught by a busty, athletic-looking woman sitting on one of the sofas. Her feet were propped up on a footstool, and she was wearing black jeans, a silver belt, and a form-fitting V-neck sweater. She was also wearing retro pumps with chunky heels, and her long dark hair—streaked with blue and violet—was caught back in a ponytail. I recognized her from Carter’s place—it was Shimmer. But instead of the brilliant blue I remembered her eyes being, they were glazed over, almost white. What the hell? Had she been turned? But her eyes wouldn’t have changed that quickly.

Camille had shoved her way to the front beside me and now she peeked over my shoulder. “Shimmer. And look at her eyes. She’s under a sorcerer’s charm—her eyes have that look. If we go in there, chances are she’s going to fight us, so be prepared.”

“How do we break the charm? Do we have to kill Julian?” I prayed the answer would be no, because finding him meant wading through that brunette bombshell of muscle. And even though she’d lost some of her powers, she was still a dragon, and her strength was still going to be insanely powerful.

Camille shook her head. “Not necessarily. If we can counter the charm with a different type of magic . . .” She hesitated. “If Smoky were here, he could probably break her out of it.”

“Your cell phone? Will it work down here?” I didn’t think it would—hell, the damned things wouldn’t even work in a parking garage, but it was worth a try.

She scooted to the side and pulled out her phone. After a few seconds, she shook her head. “No bars. I can go back up top and call him. He’s been to the park, he can make it to the edge through the Ionyc Sea. Then I can bring him down here.”

I didn’t like it—Camille going off on her own like that. She could easily get nabbed by any stray vampires. “Not alone, you don’t. Take Alex with you. I can handle things here with Delilah and Ralph. I think the outside entrance also opens into this room, see the stairs over there?” I nodded to behind one of the sofas where we could see an exit leading to what looked like a stairwell. “Ten to one they spiral up to the entrance in back of the mausoleum.”

Camille tapped Alex on the arm. “Let’s get a move on, then.”

He graciously smiled at her, and took the lead. “I’ll keep you safe, love.” As they disappeared down the tunnel, I hoped I was doing the right thing. We still didn’t know Alex from Adam, and here I was sending him off with my sister. But she had faced down far worse menaces.

As soon as they disappeared down the corridor, I motioned for Delilah and Ralph to backtrack a few yards so we wouldn’t be in view should anybody look in our direction. As we crouched, I thought over our options. Shimmer didn’t seem to be in direct danger—not slouched on the sofa, reading a book like she was.

“I’m beginning to doubt they figured out we’d be coming tonight.” I frowned. “Shimmer has made herself at home. There’s nobody else in there.”

“Don’t be so sure.” Ralph pushed his glasses up by their bridge from where they’d slid down his face. He was a cutie, actually, his hair was a mop of red curls. “Could be the trap we talked about. Why wouldn’t they leave a guard with her, just in case?”

“I guess we’ll find out once Camille returns with Smoky. By the way, Smoky is half-white, half-silver dragon. Do not mess with him. Don’t even think of putting any moves on Camille, especially when he’s around. He’s one of her husbands and he only shares her with the other two men in her life.” I grinned at the geek boy.

He blushed. “I wouldn’t have anyway. I . . . I have a crush on Shimmer.”

That was news. “I thought Alex had a crush on her.”

“He does, but he’s got a girlfriend. She’s a succubus and she’d rip his dick off if she thought he was looking the other way.” Ralph snorted. “But she expects him to accept her nature. Really, it’s not the best pair-up. I think he should dump her. She takes advantage of his good nature.”

“Sounds like a match made in heaven. Not.” Delilah grinned. “Jerry Springer fodder.” Even though she was engaged to a half-shadow dragon, half-Stradolan, my werecat sister had a celebrity crush on the trash-talk king himself. She’d made us sit through far too many of his shows. Camille and I did simply because . . . well . . . Delilah was our sister and we loved her, quirks and all.

“Yeah, well, Glenda—don’t laugh, her name is Glenda—is a bat out of hell. I don’t like her.” He paused, grimacing. “Don’t mention I said that, okay? She’s scary.”

“Yeah, we get it. So Alex has a thing for Shimmer, and so do you.”

“I have a crush on her, yeah. But she’d never go out with me.” He shrugged. “I’m out of her league. And probably safer that way. Dragons can be messy. And mean.”

“Tell me about it. Best to stay on their good side if you can.”

Camille’s husband Smoky was a terror when crossed, but overall, he was a good man and had adopted all of us when he married her. But take one step against her—or us—and it was crispy critter time. Literally. He, like most dragons, could breathe fire.

But just as we were hunkering down to wait, a noise alerted me. I held up my hands for Delilah and Ralph to stay where they were and crept back down the tunnel, only to meet somebody coming our way.

Fuck! Another vamp, this one a big burly guy. A startled look washed across his face, but he didn’t hesitate. He launched himself at me without stopping to ask questions, and I met him head on.

The tunnel wasn’t all that large, so when we engaged, we blocked it for anybody looking to get through. As the noise of our fight echoed through the passage, there was no hiding the fact we were here.

He was tough, but I was stronger and I realized he was fairly new to the life. He wasn’t caught up in the bloodlust like a newly minted vamp, but he definitely hadn’t gotten the hang of his abilities yet. Which meant I had a good chance. I managed to roll him over beneath me and, straddling him, clenched my fists over my head and brought them down to smash his nose.

He roared, flailing for my throat, but I leaned back, out of his reach. His anger added to his strength and he was bucking beneath me. I had to get a stake through his heart or I was going to have trouble controlling him much longer, and if anybody else joined the fray, I was fucked.

“Stake!” I shouted.

Delilah tossed me her dagger and I caught it, shouting as the silver burned against my hand. My fingers blistered as I aimed it toward his heart, praying I was on target. Even as smoke began to rise from my flesh, I drove the dagger down, plunging it deep. Blood sprayed everywhere and I fell on the blade, driving it as far as I could before letting go and stumbling back. The vampire froze, then vanished in a spray of dust and ash.

“Fuck, my hands.” I held them up—they were blistered and red, and hurt like a son of a bitch, but they’d heal. I let Delilah pick up her dagger.

“Sorry—that’s the only thing I had ready and you looked like you needed a weapon immediately.” She worried her lip.

“I did. Don’t fret over it.” But even as I spoke, I turned to see if anybody was following on his tail. We’d made enough racket that Shimmer had to have heard. And while there was no one in the tunnel, I could hear voices from the main chamber.

“We have to go in. We can’t let them corner us in here. We’ll stand a better chance out in the open.” I charged into the room. Better to have the drop on anybody in there than give them a chance to prepare.

Shimmer was standing behind the sofa, a cunning smile on her face. Beside her stood two vampires, one on either side as if they were guarding her.

“Freaking A’! Look—a cave troll!” Delilah’s shout startled me as she lunged forward and dragged me back, pointing to the right.

Praying she was wrong, I turned to see that yes, it was true. Somehow, somewhere, Julian had managed to get hold of a cave troll.

The creature stood a good eight feet tall. He was small for a cave troll, but really, height didn’t matter. A troll was a troll was a troll. And this one had a collar around his neck. The glowing metal was enchanted. No doubt Julian had control over the creature. He wasn’t here, though, so the troll must be charmed to obey certain orders. Either that or Julian was a coward, watching from some hidden vantage point. And somehow, cunning and sneaky he might be, but a coward? I had my doubts.

“Troll? Troll!” Ralph’s cry of sheer terror jogged me into action. I pushed him back, out of the way. Regardless of what he said, I had the feeling he’d never had to face a monster quite like this.

The vamps guarding Shimmer seemed to hang back, and then I realized, they weren’t just guarding her from us, they were guarding against her breaking away, which had to mean they feared we might be able to bust through the charm.

Delilah and I advanced on the troll.

The troll lurched forward. He was hefty, but at least he only had one head, unlike dubba-trolls, who were two headed. Cave trolls were bad enough, though. At his height, he was a mountain of flesh, and he was wearing only a loincloth. I had no interest in what lay beneath. Trolls were stupid, and a charmed troll might as well be a battering ram.

Delilah moved to the right, while I took the left. The troll was carrying a hefty axe in his left hand and I dodged as he swung at me. One thing about trolls—they might be stupid, but they were quick. The swing of his axe whistled through the air, missing me, but hitting the wall near me as I ducked out of the way. The blade thudded heavily, and a small trickle of debris showered to the floor from the stone bricks that made up the walls.

Delilah lunged in as he swung at me, stabbing him in the side with Lysanthra, her dagger. The troll bellowed as she danced out of the way, avoiding his fist as he punched in her direction.

I tried to gauge the possibility of getting to his neck, to bite through his jugular, but the collar he was wearing would prevent any access. I’d have to go for his chest—either that or a thigh. And the thought of biting into the troll’s femoral artery grossed me out, though I’d do it if need be.

I launched myself toward him, scrambling up his body like I might scale a rock wall. Delilah stabbed at him again while he was off guard, this time thrusting deep into his side. Blood spurted and the scent spiraled me into a frenzy, it was so thick and viscous, and the battle had heightened my hunger.

The troll dropped his axe to try to fend me off. Clawing at me, he managed to grab one of my legs, and pulled hard as he tried to dislodge me. It felt like he might dislocate my knee if I didn’t let go, so I loosened my grip. The next moment, he tossed me aside like a used tissue. I landed hard, but came up ready to fight.

Delilah was left to face him down by herself. He reached to retrieve his axe, and she took the chance to dive in, stabbing him again in the side. But her blade hit tough skin and bounced off without doing much damage. He roared, bringing his arm around, swinging at her with the blade of the axe.

I let out a screech and dove for his legs, rolling into him with a thud. I might be petite, but I had my vampiric strength behind me and I packed one hell of a wallop. As I landed against him, he was in mid-twist, aiming for Delilah, and as I hit, he wavered. Sensing I’d unbalanced him, I bit deep into his calf, latching on with my fangs, making it hurt as much as I possibly could.

With a shout, he dropped the axe again. Delilah brought her dagger up to meet his face, slicing into his right eye. He screamed, then, a terrible, gurgling scream, as the blood splattered out from his socket.

I rolled out of his reach, and leaped to my feet. Delilah twisted her dagger hard, then yanked it out, diving to the side as he stumbled. Taking advantage of my position, I grabbed his axe and swung, driving the blade deep into his back. He let out a roar and began to topple. As he hit the ground, I lifted the axe again and brought it down across his neck, cleaving his head from his shoulders. As his head rolled to the side, his gaze startled and surprised, the cave troll shuddered and died. Blood pumped from the stump of his neck. It was altogether too messy.

“Where’s Julian?” I turned on the vamps that were guarding Shimmer.

They began to back away, eyes wide, as I headed in their direction. Just then, Camille and Alex raced into the room, followed by Smoky. Six-foot-four, almost albino, Smoky immediately took over the room. His silver hair fell to his ankles, and the damned dragon always wore white—a long white trench over white jeans and a pale blue shirt. And he never, ever got dirty. Now, he strode forward, passing me by, on his way toward Shimmer.

She began to back away as a faint look of recognition crossed her face. The vamps took one look at Smoky, and hightailed it toward the other entrance. Alex and I were on them, and though they put up a fight, neither was a match for us, especially since I was still holding the troll’s axe. We dusted them without getting a scratch.

As we turned, Smoky had hold of Shimmer and he was gazing into her eyes, muttering something under his breath. Camille, Delilah, and Ralph were keeping watch over the other entrance.

“Shimmer. Shimmer, come back. Hear me. You must obey me. I am Lord Iampaatar, son of Lady Vishana, son of the Iamfosan Dreyerie, Lord of the Celestial Caste, and you will listen to me.” As he spoke, his voice rolled through the room with a deep thundering command. Shimmer began to shiver, and the glaze fell away from her eyes, the blue springing back to life. Another moment, and she fell crying into his arms.

I glanced over at Camille, but she was keeping watch, not paying much attention to what was going on in dragon-central. Another moment, and Smoky bustled Shimmer over to us.

Alex reached out cautiously to pat her on the shoulder. He looked both awkward and concerned. “Shimmer . . . ?”

She pressed her lips together, her eyes wet. Another moment and she hung her head. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to . . . I don’t know why I . . . I’m just sorry.” She looked so confused that I felt sorry for the girl.

“You were under a charm.” Alex paused. “Shimmer, do you know where Julian is?” He looked around. “I’m not comfortable staying here. Something feels off.”

“He’s right.” Camille paled. “We have to get out of here—now! I don’t know what but something is going to happen.” She headed for the other entrance, the one that would lead directly to the base of the mausoleum. Without a word, the rest of us followed. As we hightailed it up the stairs, Shimmer looked bewildered but followed orders.

We were partway up when a muffled noise below us rocked the stairwell. And then, the shockwave hit.

“Faster! Something blew!” Ahead of me, Alex grabbed hold of Shimmer and began to run, yanking her along with him. I turned to see Smoky wrap his arms around Camille and Delilah and vanish. With no time to think, I took hold of Ralph’s hand and did what Alex had—began to race up the stairs, dragging the poor Were behind me. He let out a loud noise, but then everything was eclipsed by the explosion that roared up the stairwell.

As we spilled out onto the ground and I tossed him away from the building, another explosion rocked the park. The mausoleum slowly began to implode. And then, with one mighty roar, it tumbled in on itself, caving through the ground into the tunnels below, a massive pile of debris.

Chapter 7

Quickly, I made sure Ralph was okay, then looked around for the others, praying they’d made it out alive. The storm thrashed through the night, and I shaded my eyes with my hand from the rain. A faint movement caught my eye to the left—Smoky, with Camille and Delilah, stepped out of the Ionyc Sea. And to my right, I saw Alex and Shimmer, picking themselves off the ground where the shockwave had thrown them. We were all here, all alive.

The mausoleum was demolished. Totally gone. And if we hadn’t been alert, if Alex and Camille hadn’t sensed something about to happen, we’d be down there, under the rubble.

As we met beneath the shadow of one of the trees, I glanced back at it. That hadn’t been the vampire nightclub. And I doubted if Julian had ever been down there. No, it had been a trap, to catch and kill Alex. And it had almost taken us along with it.

“We should get out of here.” Delilah groaned, rubbing her head. “I hurt, and frankly, I don’t feel like taking on any more vampires tonight. We rescued Shimmer. Let’s leave Julian for another night.”

Alex nodded. “I think she’s right. Julian’s smart. He won’t stick around, if he’s even here. Not tonight. He’ll go back underground, think of another way to get me, and return when he’s had a chance to rest up. Besides, it’s only a few hours till dawn, and neither you, Menolly, or I can afford to take chances.”

And so, with retreat seeming the best option, we turned and walked out of Severance Park. The cops would be along soon, but all they’d find would be a pile of rubble where the mausoleum once stood. We’d tell Chase in the morning. Right now, we were alive and soaked, and we needed to rest.

***

We invited Alex, Ralph, and Shimmer back to our house. Alex frowned as I invited him in, but I told him I’d revoke my greeting once he left, and he gave me a thumbs-up.

“Can’t be too careful, love.” He winked at me, but this time it was a friendly wink and I returned it.

Camille and Delilah headed upstairs to shower. Hanna, our housekeeper, showed Shimmer to the guest bath, while my lovely wife—Nerissa—who was home from the ball, brought her a change of clothes. Shimmer was taller than Nerissa, but they were of similar stature, and the jeans and shirt should fit her.

As I dashed downstairs to rinse off and change, I got a call from the FH-CSI. The woman I’d found earlier had died and they staked her before she could turn, in case the vamps had been toying with her in that way, too.

Feeling unaccountably sad, I stood under the shower and lathered up. The cold didn’t bite as deep with me as it did my sisters, so I didn’t need a long hot shower, but the water was cleansing and helped me feel like myself again.

As I reemerged into the kitchen, Hanna was stirring up a pot of soup and a batch of biscuits. She nodded to the counter, where two bottles of soup-flavored blood waited. “For you and the gentleman vampire.”

“Thanks, Hanna. You’re a doll.” I didn’t hug many people, but now, I spontaneously grabbed her and planted a quick kiss on her cheek, then went to fetch the others.

Trillian and Morio, Camille’s other husbands, had found clothing to fit Ralph and Alex, and they were dry and clean, sitting near the fireplace, talking with the guys. Shade, Delilah’s fiancé, was keeping watch from the edge of the room.

I sidled up to him. “What do you think?”

He cocked his head. “Good folk. A bit chaotic, but basically—I like them. They could be handy allies in the future, though I don’t think we should tell them about Shadow Wing. No need to burden them with news better left unsaid.”

I flashed him a toothy grin. “That’s what I feel, too. I think . . . I think we’ll end up friends, you know?”

And with that, Camille and Delilah reemerged, and Shimmer, and we all trooped into the kitchen for food.

***

Shimmer had no clue where Julian or his vampire club was, but she did have a question. “How can I keep Julian from charming me again?” She glanced at Smoky. “If you hadn’t come along, I could have done some serious damage.”

“That you could have. There’s a technique I can show you that will help you focus your inner strength against glamour and the like. It’s easy and quick to learn.” Smoky quickly turned to Camille. “Don’t worry, I would never use it on you, my love.” But he laughed, and a long tendril of his hair rose up to stroke her arm.

A sly smile stole across her face. “Right. Tell me another one, dude. Shimmer, Smoky can help you—seriously. And maybe, Shade?”

“One way or another, we’ll help you find that part of yourself. I’m surprised you haven’t already developed it. Most parents teach their dragonettes how to protect themselves right away.” Shade shrugged at Delilah’s look. “What? That’s the truth. I’m not being rude.”

Shimmer laughed. “I’ll tell you why not. I grew up in Lost and Foundling: The orphanage dreyerie for unclaimed dragon children.”

Shade ducked his head.

Smoky’s expression grew grim. “Lost and Foundling? That’s a rough place. I’m sorry you had to endure that.”

By the look on Shade’s face, and Smoky’s, the orphanage must have been hell.

Shimmer smiled fainly. “Thank you. It wasn’t easy. I have no family. No one knows who my parents were, or what my parentage is. I was discovered freshly hatched on the shores of the Western Waters, on Silver Beam Bay. No one came forward to claim me. I had to make my own way. They don’t coddle you at Lost and Foundling—you scratch and scrabble your way up and any infraction is a good excuse for a beating. I had no one to learn from there. No friends, nobody. I have no caste.”

That explained a lot. In fact, that explained a great deal of what we knew about her. I knew enough to know that a foundling dragon would be outcast. Lineage and hierarchy were everything among the dragon castes, and with no caste, Shimmer had no identity.

A strange look washed across both Smoky and Shade’s faces, and Camille’s too. They said nothing, but Smoky passed Shimmer the bread and Shade made sure her soup bowl was full, and Camille reached out to touch the dragon’s arm.

“Welcome to Seattle,” my sister said. “I know it’s going to be a strange adjustment, but feel free to call us if you want to talk, or go out shopping, or even . . . just . . . go to a movie.”

Shimmer ducked her head, and the smile that stole across her face was warm and inviting. Her eyes glistened—she was truly an exotic and striking woman. She let out a faint laugh. “Who thought that I’d have to travel across worlds to meet people I could actually call friends?”

As she began to chat with the others, Alex walked away from the table, staring out the window. I joined him.

“What are you thinking?” I asked.

“The blood was incredible—you’re lucky to have the friendship of a youkai who can do that. But . . .” His voice trailed off.

“What is it?”

“The storm’s just begun. Julian is dangerous, Menolly—not just for me, but he’s against everybody. He’s angry, and we botched his plans. He’s going to look up who you are. He’ll do his research, and he’s damned good at it. Please, you and your family—be careful. He won’t stop unless somebody puts an end to him. He was a powerful sorcerer.”

“I feared as much.” My fangs slowly descended as I thought of the sorcerer. He had already proven himself deadly and without conscience.

Alex glanced back at Shimmer. “I’ll keep a close eye on her, make sure he doesn’t go after her again, but chances are he won’t. Julian’s smart enough not to try the same thing twice. Especially if the first time failed. But if nothing else, I’m glad we all met. Friends are hard to find. When you do meet like-minded folks, you do what you can to keep them in your life. Especially when you’re a vampire.”

As we stared out into the night, the storm continued, unabated. The winds were howling, the rain thrashing the ground. And somewhere out there, a vampire named Julian waited with revenge on his mind, and anger in his heart. Biding his time. Yes, it was only a matter of time.

Epilogue

Fly By Night Magical Investigations Agency

As we stumbled our way back into the office, I was embarrassed and I had no clue what to say. I’d botched things up so badly that I didn’t know if they could be mended. Threatening to stake my boss? Even if I had been under a charm, I had no doubt I’d be on my way back to the Dragon Reaches tomorrow, where I’d probably end up dead.

As Ralph yawned, I glanced at the clock. It was nearly five. Alex would have to be getting home soon before dawn broke.

Bette glanced over at us. “You chickens have a rough night?” The cigarette hung heavy off her lip. I hated those things, and one of these days, I was going to steal her stash and give her a hookah or something. At least it would be more sightly.

Alex snorted. “Rough night? More like a brief vacation to hell.”

“Ah, business as usual, then? Okay, children, I’m closing up shop and heading home. I’ve got a date waiting for me and he’s called twice to find out when I’ll be there. Don’t forget to set the security code when you leave.” She hoisted herself out of the chair, the pleather of her pants making a squeaking sound as she stood. A moment later and she had stuffed herself into a skintight leather jacket and teetered toward the door on her four-inch platforms. Bette was quite the broad, all right. She knew she had it going on and wasn’t afraid of what people said about her.

Ralph waved, then headed for his office. “I need to run some updates before I crash. I might sleep on the cot if it takes long enough.” He had a daybed in his chamber of electronic horrors, where he slept when he was too tired from coding.

Alex locked the door after Bette left, then motioned to me. “Shimmer, please come into my office. We need to talk.”

This was it. I followed him into the Menagerie, as I called the mini-museum of heads and trophies. As soon as he closed the door, I dropped into one of the chairs. Exhausted, I felt like I’d just come up for air after a really nasty case of smoke-choke. Dragons didn’t get colds, but sometimes, we got hold of bad rocks, and that made our fiery breath turn into a raging cough and fuzzy head. Of course, I wouldn’t have to worry about that again for . . . well . . . four years, nine months, and five days. The thought made me unaccountably sad.

“Smile, love. You’re free now. I doubt Julian will try to kidnap you again, but I wanted to apologize. The only reason he targeted you was because of me.” Alex sat on the edge of his desk and he reached over to stroke my cheek. His hand was cool, very cool, and felt so alien yet so familiar. With one finger, he tapped my nose and then returned to the other side of the desk, where he sat down.

I caught my breath, staring into those pale eyes of his, wondering what he really thought of me. The Wing Liege had unceremoniously dumped me on Alex’s doorstep and now he was responsible for me. At the same time, Alex Radcliffe was one of the most exasperating men I’d ever met. Dragon or vamp—men were pretty much the same everywhere.

“Yeah, I’m free. But for how long?”

“I don’t know—until you get yourself in the next mess? Which, no doubt, won’t be too long, knowing you.” He laughed and wrinkled his nose. “You want a chocolate?” He pointed to the candy dish he kept out for his clients.

“Chocolate? Really?” I stared at him. “You’re offering me chocolate right now? You’re better than this, Alex. Don’t drag it out. Just get it over with.”

“What the hell are you going on about?” He looked as confused as I felt. “Go home. Sleep. Get your ass in here at five P.M., ready to work.” He sounded like he meant it.

More confused than ever, I burst into tears. “You mean you really aren’t going to summon the Wing Liege?”

Now it was his turn to look perplexed. “Why should I?”

“I tried to stake you. I tried to kill you.” There, I said it—blunt and to the point, so to speak.

Alex cocked his head, the tips of his hair dancing along his shoulders. “Love, you didn’t have a choice. You were under a charm. I’m not going to report you for that.”

Relief flooded through me. He wasn’t going to give up on me and I wouldn’t end up in a cell at home! The rush of emotion must have shown, because he put down his pen.

“You really think I would have done that?”

I slouched back in my chair, my hand over my chest. “Alex, in the Dragon Reaches, this would have been considered my fault. I would have been punished for being so lax as to let it happen. And the punishment would have been severe, given that I’m considered outcast.”

Alex let out a snort. “Really? Well, you’re Earthside now. And yes, I’m your boss, but I’m fair and willing to give you every chance. I’ve been in a lot of trouble over the years, trust me. If there’s one thing I’m not, it’s a hypocrite.”

I shook my head. “I don’t understand. Everything is so strange over here. Hell, I don’t even know what happened. You told me, yes, but . . . I’m still trying to fit all the parts together and nothing makes sense to me.”

“Give it time, Shimmer. Don’t be in such a hurry. Take your time in getting to know people. But I will tell you this, you can trust the D’Artigo sisters. They’re good folk.” With a soft smile, he picked up his pen againand waved me off. “Go home. Rest. You’ve got a lot of paperwork to fill out on this case.”

As I headed for the door, I glanced back to find him staring at me. He immediately dove back into his work, but there had been something . . . something in his eyes that made me want to run over, to give him a big snuggly hug. But I didn’t. Because at that moment, I realized I felt a spark for Alex. And that was the last thing I wanted.

So I turned back to the door and all I said was, “Right. Night, boss. See you tomorrow.” But for the first time in a long while, I realized, I was actually looking forward to the new day. And all the new days coming down the line.

The Playlist

I write to music a good share of the time, and so I always put my playlists in the back of each book so you can see which artists/songs I listened to during the writing. Here’s the playlist for Flight from Hell:

ACDC:

“Rock and Roll Ain’t Noise Pollution”

Aerosmith:

“Sweet Emotion”

Alice Cooper:

“Go to Hell”; “Didn’t We Meet”; “Poison”

AWOLNATION:

“Sail”

Beck:

“Cellphone Is Dead”; “Elevator Music”; “Broken Train”; “Mixed Bizness”

Black Angels:

“I Hear Colors”; “Don’t Play with Guns”; “You on the Run”

Black Sabbath:

“Paranoid”

Bravery:

“Believe”

Broken Bells:

“Your Head Is on Fire”; “The Ghost Inside”; “The Mall and the Misery”

Crazy Town:

“Butterfly”

Cul de Sac:

“Cul de Sade”; “Into the Cone of Cold”

The Cure:

“A Short Term Effect”; “Cold”; “The Hanging Gardens”

David Bowie:

“I’m Afraid of Americans”; “Jean Genie”; “Fame”

Donovan:

“Season of the Witch”; “Sunshine Superman”

Doors:

“The Crystal Ship”; “We Could Be So Good Together”; “Whiskey, Mystics and Men”

Eric Clapton:

“Cocaine”

Garbage:

“Queer”; “I Think I’m Paranoid”; “Supervixen”; “Fix Me Now”

Haysi Fantayzee:

“Shiny Shiny”

Hugo:

“99 Problems”

Julian Cope:

“Charlotte Anne”

Kinks:

“Destroyer”; “Superman”

Kirsty MacColl:

“In These Shoes?”

Kyuss:

“Space Cadet”; “Writhe”; “Thong Song”

Lou Reed:

“Walk on the Wild Side”

Madonna:

“Beautiful Stranger”

Marilyn Manson:

“Arma-Goddamn-Motherfucking-Geddon”; “Personal Jesus”; “Rock Is Dead”

Mark Lanegan:

“Riot in My House”; “Like Little Willie John”; “Riding the Nightingale”; “Quiver Syndrome”; “Phantasmagoria Blues”; “Pentecostal”

Maroon 5:

“If I Never See Your Face”

Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds:

“Right Red Hand”

Ohio Players:

“Fire”

Orgy:

“Blue Monday”

Peaches:

“Boys Wanna Be Her”

Dear Reader:

I hope you enjoyed your journey through Otherworld. Fans of my longtime series recognized the D’Artigo sisters right away—the half-human, half-Fae sisters have had many adventures and are on a dangerous quest right now.

What people may not be aware of is that this novella introduced my upcoming series, the Fly By Night Series, which takes place in Seattle within the Otherworld Altaverse, while focusing on different characters. Shimmer, a blue dragon shifter (sent Earthside as a punishment); Alex, her vampire boss; and Ralph, werewolf geek boy extraordinaire, run the Fly By Night Magical Investigations Agency, a magical and paranormal private eye/bounty hunter firm.

But don’t worry—I have no plans to end the Otherworld Series. I’m just adding more dimension to the world.

So this is the crossover novella that ties the two worlds together. I hope you enjoyed meeting Alex, Shimmer, Ralph, and Bette, even as you caught up with Camille, Menolly, and Delilah!

For a sneak peek of the next Otherworld book, Priestess Dreaming, keep reading and you’ll find the first chapter.

Bright Blessings,

The Painted Panther,

Yasmine Galenorn

Read on for a special preview of the next Otherworld Novel

PRIESTESS DREAMING

Available soon from Jove

I contemplated going back into the house, purse over my shoulder. Should I, or shouldn’t I? Utter mayhem lay within. Absolute chaos in a kitchen, complete with spilled food, a huffy dragon, one very pissed-off house sprite, and my sister, the wide-eyed, catch-da-giant-bird, turkey-chaser. Add to that the rest of the milling—and by now, thoroughly confused—throng that was our extended family, and I made my decision. Not a chance. Nope. Not gonna happen.

I was perfectly fine out here in the pouring rain, getting soaked. Let Smoky take his lumps from Iris. This was all his fault, not mine. The only part they could blame me for was that I had assigned him the chore of bringing home a twenty-five-pound turkey for tomorrow’s Thanksgiving dinner. Was it my responsibility to remind him to make certain it was already dead?

Not. My. Fault. And neither was the Three Stooges aftermath that followed. Now, with Iris and Hanna both on the warpath, I had no desire to go back in there and subject myself to their outrage.

As my gaze wandered over to the turkey pecking around our backyard, it occurred to me that the bird was eyeing me with an evil glare—like some demented ostrich. The fat old Tom was closer to the woods than our back door, and I wondered if he realized just how lucky he was.

I stamped my foot in his direction. “Go on, you dumb bird. Make a break for it while you can, before Smoky comes looking for you.” As if he understood me, the turkey turned toward the treeline back of the yard and slowly began to waddle off into the sunset. Or rather, the pitch darkness. It was only around five thirty, but by this time of year, the Seattle area was swathed in night. Sunset had come and gone about an hour ago.

I snorted. “Have a happy Thanksgiving, bird. You lucked out so give your thanks to the Great Turkey or whoever it is you pray to.”

As I watched him vanish into the woods, I wondered where the hell Smoky had found him. No doubt he’d stolen him from some turkey farm or something. Wild turkeys generally didn’t go running around the streets of Seattle. But I wasn’t going to ask. After this fiasco, I had a feeling that my dragon-shifting husband wouldn’t be in any mood to discuss turkey-hunting.

Thanks to sheer dumb luck, the bird had managed to escape from the kitchen. He’d left behind a trail of walking wounded, though—including me. That beak was nasty sharp and I had the scratch to prove it, but at least I didn’t have a hole in my hand like Roz did. Yeah, in the great dinner war, the bird deserved his freedom. He’d earned it. As the last of his tail feathers vanished from sight on the path leading to Birchwater Pond, I saluted him.

“You’ve got what it takes to make it, soldier. Carry on.”

With one last look at the house, I straightened my shoulders and headed toward my car. We still needed a turkey. I might as well head out to buy one. On the up side, by the time I got back, things should have smoothed over.

Families. One thing was for certain: Mine was loopy, batty, and all around a freakshow crew. But I wouldn’t trade them for all the glitter and glitz in Otherworld or Earthside.

I slid into the driver’s seat, but as I inserted the key into the ignition, a shiver ran down my back. A shadow passed through me, cold and dark and incredibly ancient.

Quickly, I locked the door, suddenly nervous. Maybe it was the wind that rattled the trees that had spooked me. Or maybe it was the driving rain. Or perhaps the darkness and perpetual gloom had finally managed to suck the smile off my face. Whatever the case, I glanced back at the house, anxious.

PTSD, maybe? We had recently come through a horrible stretch, what with the war raging in Otherworld and losing our father. We were all still a little shell-shocked. I had been coping with a lot of nightmares and flashbacks the past few weeks, but this didn’t feel like it originated from the same place.

Trying to quiet my mind, I listened, breathing slowly.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Listen . . .

At first, I could sense only the wind and rain that lashed the yard, but then . . . below that . . . there it was. Something was on the move. Something big. I searched my feelings, examining the sensation. Was it fear? Yes, but more. Anticipation? Anxiety? A tingling at the base of my neck told me that deep magic was afoot, and would soon be knocking on my door.

Magic rode the currents, on the wings of a flock of birds. They were there, in the astral, black as coal and shrieking warnings of an ancient wood filled with extraordinary beasts. The rolling mists of time poured past as the ravens cried, their song echoing with magic. Dark magic, deep woodland magic. Death coming in on waves of flame and smoke.

As if in synch with my thoughts, a shriek cut through the darkness, startling me out of my trance. I recognized the cry. Raven. Oh, fuck—raven was calling. And where raven flew, Raven Mother couldn’t be far behind.

And behind Raven Mother, chasing her, was a dragon. At first I flashed back to Hyto, but then caught hold of myself. Hyto was dead and gone. I forced myself to focus, to examine the energy that went rushing past. This dragon was ancient—not a dragon from the Dragon Reaches, but from the depths of the earth, come awake after eons of time asleep in its lair.

As he roared to life, chasing the flock of ravens, he vanished from sight.

I found myself sitting in the car, my hand on the keys. Wondering what that had been about, and almost afraid to examine it, I shuddered and started the ignition. As the car warmed up, I stared into the darkness of the night, my thoughts far from Thanksgiving.

Yes, something big was headed my way and there was no use trying to avoid it. I might as well just open my arms and brace for trouble. Trying to hide from potential trouble had ceased to be an effective defense mechanism a few years ago when the demons had first shown up.

With a grimace, I pulled out my phone and texted Menolly that I was heading for the store to replace the turkey. As I eased out of the driveway, I whispered, “Bring it on, Raven Mother. Bring it on. I’m waiting for you.”

A faint laughter echoed over the howling of the wind. She’d heard me, all right. And she was waiting.

***

“Give me that!” Delilah’s voice rang out and I turned, scanning the mob for her face. Somebody was bound to get hurt in this mess. People were shoving in every direction, trying to push their way through the mass of churning bodies. To my left, a woman tripped and fell. I tried to maneuver through the crowd to reach her, but a man stopped to help her back to her feet and she dusted herself off, looking no worse for the wear, but then, a glint in her eye, she was gone into the seething throng.

Still not seeing Delilah, I glanced over my shoulder. Smoky and Trillian were standing at attention, waiting for my orders, both looking resigned and rather frightened. Their arms full of bags, they threaded their way through the chaos as they followed me. Delilah was still nowhere to be seen, and I made a unilateral decision. She’d just have to catch up to us later.

“Over to the pet section, pronto!”

Pointing toward the opposite end of the store, I began to traverse the aisles. Wordlessly, they filed along behind me. Gauging the easiest, quickest route, I wound through the rows of merchandise, narrowly skirting a table of precariously stacked crystal dishes. Motioning for the guys to be cautious, I held my breath until I was past the display.

Once we were out of housewares, the crowd began to thin out as we maneuvered our way over to the pet toy aisle. Along the way, I caught sight of an insulated lunch bag in fuchsia, with a cat appliqué splashed across the front. It really was cute. Another woman was eyeing it and I had a split second to make up my mind.

“Nerissa would love that.” I snatched it up seconds before my opponent could grab it, and once again, we were on the move, leaving her sputtering in the dust. A few moments later, we reached our destination: the pet care section. We had the department to ourselves. Most of the crowds were over in electronics and toys. Chase and Iris were fending their way through the latter and I silently wished them luck.

“Are we done yet?” Smoky grumbled. “Haven’t you found enough loot? It’s four thirty in the morning, woman.” He didn’t sound that angry, though. In fact, the twinkle in his eye told me he was putting on a show because he thought it was required. Just like a man.

Trillian, also my husband, snorted. “You really think that’s going to work? Dude, you should know your wife and her sisters by now. We’ve got at least another hour to go. Remember last year?”

Trillian’s obsidian skin glistened under the fluorescent lights. He’d braided his hair to keep it out of the way. The silver strands rested smooth against his back, shimmering with the faintest of cerulean highlights. He had worn a sleek black turtleneck and black jeans, but left his jacket in the car, claiming it made him more aerodynamic in the crowds. A Svartan, one of the dark and charming Fae, he usually managed to get what he wanted by smooth-talking whoever was in his way. But on Black Friday, all bets were off.

Smoky, on the other hand, was attired in his usual getup: white jeans, V-neck pale blue sweater, and long white trench. At six-four, my dragon towered over the crowds. Though I kept him near, even his imposing nature didn’t offer us much protection during the early hours of the most terrifying shopping day of the year. He, too, had braided his hair, though it was ankle length instead of mid-shoulder like Trillian’s. Luckily, his hair moved all on its lonesome. If it hadn’t, his braid would have gotten trampled several times tonight.

“Don’t remind me.” Smoky rolled his eyes. “Last year was worse than this, I’ll give you that.”

“The others aren’t done yet, so just hold your horses. Remember? Hanna promised leftover turkey soup along with fresh baked homemade bread if you guys play nice.” I picked up a catnip mouse and shook it, frowning at the squeaky-squeaky sound. Delilah would love it.

Her toys were constantly ragged, she played with them so much. And then, the thought occurred to me that we should get her panther form a toy, too. One that could withstand a good mauling. Also—why not one for Nerissa? Her puma liked to play, and on occasion, Delilah and our sister-in-law went hunting together in the forest behind our house. They never really caught anything, but the big cats liked to prowl through the trees.

“After we’re done here, we’re heading over to the stuffed toys. So gird your loins, or whatever it is you boys do in order to stay sane.”

Oblivious to their groans, I began tossing toy mice in my cart, before we pushed onward.

***

Delilah had driven her Jeep, Menolly had brought her Mustang, and I had driven my Lexus. Morio had also played chauffer, driving his SUV so that Iris and Chase could come with us. That way, we had enough room for all the packages as well.

Hanna had stayed home to watch Maggie, our baby calico gargoyle. And Bruce, Iris’s husband, had begged off because he’d promised to help Vanzir and Rozurial with some secret surprise they had planned. They had shooed us out of the house, instructing us not to return till early morning. I wasn’t sure what they were up to, but could only pray it wasn’t something stupid like turning the house into a giant video game or something.

It was nearing 6 A.M. as we pulled into the driveway to our lovely old three-story Victorian with basement. Menolly still had some time before she had to be in her lair to sleep. Vampires and sunrise? Not such a good mix, so we always made sure she was home in time to get to bed. But we still had nearly ninety minutes before the sun crawled over the horizon. Or up behind the clouds, as was more often the norm here in Seattle.

As we piled out of our cars, the men gathering all our loot for us, I glanced at Trillian and Smoky and wearily smiled. “You do realize how much I love the pair of you, don’t you? And Morio, too.” Morio was my third husband. I was one hell of a lucky woman.

His hands full, Smoky winked at me as a strand of his hair unbraided itself, slowly reaching over to caress my cheek. A smile creased his face. Dragon smiles were always a little sly, a little coy.

“You can show us just how much you love us after we haul all this stuff inside.” His voice was husky, and I caught my breath as the touch of his hair sparked off an ache that rose between my legs. I wanted him and I wanted him now. It had been two days since I’d had sex—we’d all been busy. But that was two days too long.

Trillian brushed past me, arching an eyebrow. “That’s the best idea I’ve heard all night.”

“I wish.” Shaking my head, I forced my attention away from my nether regions, which were now up in arms, demanding attention. “Go on, the pair of you. You know what waits for us inside there. An early morning brunch, and then Iris and Hanna are going to put us all to work. Except Menolly, of course. Honestly, how Iris manages to have as much energy as she does after having the twins, I dunno. It’s been less than a month and she’s raring to go.”

As much as the thought of an early morning tryst with my men appealed to me, the morning was given over to homely duties. Today we’d all be decking out the house for Yuletide, from bottom to top. With Iris and Hanna in charge, it meant we’d fill every nook and cranny with some sort of decoration. But I didn’t begrudge the time spent, especially this year.

With Father dead and so much upheaval in our lives, it was important to keep our traditions alive. We needed these touchstones to ground us and keep us on track. My premonitions of the other night had faded, and I had put them down to skittishness. So far, nothing had happened, and I hadn’t bothered telling anybody about them.

Trillian laughed. “Fine. We’ll avoid facing the wrath of the house-maidens. But that means we’re on for this evening, though frankly, I’m going to need a nap before then. The few hours we got after Thanksgiving dinner were helpful, but not enough.”

But I lost track of what he was saying, because as we approached the porch, the front door burst open and Vanzir came racing out, the look on his face somewhere between guilty and terrified. He scrambled down the stairs, leaping to take the last few.

“Run! Get out of the way!” And the dream-chaser demon pushed past us looking like hell itself was on his heels.

Confused, I glanced back at the door. Holy. Fuck. It couldn’t be—no, no . . . I couldn’t be seeing what my brain thought it was seeing. Could I?

But there, on the porch, with gleaming yellow eyes, stood a very large, very burly creature with white fur covering its body. It was bipedal . . .

“Fuck! Yeti! There’s a freaking yeti on our porch!” I dropped my purse and backed away from the steps, never letting my gaze leave the creature. Trillian and Smoky were doing the same.

Yetis were unpredictable. Like their cousins, the Sasquatch, they were large and muscular, but their hair was white, compared to the deep brown of the Sasquatch’s fur. Camouflage, no doubt. But what the hell was a yeti from the mountains of Tibet doing here, on our front porch? And more importantly—at least for the moment—what was it going to do?

The creatures were wild, almost alien in nature. In fact, back in Otherworld, there were rumors that the entire Sasquatch-Yeti family were originally from another planet, though nobody knew if this was true. It could have just been an urban legend. They were considered to be Cryptos, but they weren’t found in Otherworld and they sure didn’t mingle with the Cryptos over here, Earthside. Or with the Fae. Pretty much everybody but monster-hunters gave the primate-like creatures a wide berth.

I searched my memory, trying to figure out just exactly what our options were. Attempting to communicate wouldn’t do any good, not unless the creature was willing to talk. And so far, nobody I knew had gotten close enough to one to invite it to tea without getting mauled. Usually, approaching beyond a certain range would trigger off some sort of defense mechanism and the creatures would attack. And an eight-to-nine-foot tall agitated primate who was feeling hemmed in wasn’t the safest of critters to be around.

“Anybody have any suggestions about what we do with the big white giant on the porch?” I tried to keep my voice even and neutral. No use setting it off with any loud noises.

“My babies!” Heedless of the danger, Iris broke into a run, heading around the left side of the house. Her home was in back of ours, and her twins were there, waiting for her with their grandma. I pitied any fool who tried to get between her and the babies, that was for sure. The house sprite might be a gorgeous, buxom hottie, milkmaid pretty with golden hair down to her ankles and cornflower blue eyes, but she could turn a grown man inside out if she got mad enough. Literally.

“Astrid!” Chase followed Iris at a dead run. He and his daughter Astrid lived with Iris and Bruce. No doubt, he was just as freaked.

Startled by the sudden movement, the yeti let out a roar and bounded down the steps. My men moved immediately to intercept—Smoky, Trillian, and Morio dropped their parcels and darted to cut off the path so it couldn’t follow Iris and Chase.

I backed up, looking at the sky. The clouds were thick. It was almost cold enough to snow, and there should be enough energy around to summon the lightning. I raised my arms and called on the Moon Mother. She was huge tonight—not quite full but nearly there, and I could feel her shining down even though she was obscured by the boiling clouds.

As I drew the energy into me, a crackle of silver racing through my arms, I began to feel giddy. What the hell? Her magic made me drunk at times, but never like this, and never this fast.

I wanted to dance, to spin and cackle and laugh. Trying to focus, I forced my attention back to the tingling moon-fire, but it was no use. The next moment, I heard music, faint at first but quickly sweeping up to surround me. Bouncing with a deep rhythm, the song enticed me to join the dance, the voice deep and guttural.

I began to whirl, laughing as I looked toward the sky. The Moon Mother, she was up there, and I felt her singing along. But whatever the words were, I could not understand. Guttural but delightful, they sang of adventure.

The sky shimmered, a thin veil of sparkling lights flitting around me, and enchanted, I reached out, trying to capture the twinkles in my hands.

A low growl startled me. To my left, Delilah, in her panther form, bounded by, chasing a translucent figure with wings. Tiny, it was barely a foot tall. Oh hell! Some semblance of coherency broke through. I knew what that creature was! A pixie. A freaking pixie.

We were friends with a pixie, but the majority of them were annoying pests and worse. They liked to lead people astray, and they had it in for Witches like myself. And this one was darting around, sprinkling dust right and left.

No wonder I wanted to dance. But then, reason escaped me as, once again, the music lured me in. I whirled, holding my arms out, and the energy I had drawn down from the Moon Mother suddenly cut loose in a volley of bolts as I became a spinning wheel of silver fire, sparks flying from my fingers.

Delilah snarled and lumbered out of reach. I heard Nerissa curse as I hit her with one of the mini-bolts. I wanted to stop, but my feet kept moving, I kept twirling, and the sparks kept flying.

“Stop me! Somebody stop me! Pixie dust!” I managed to shout between the violent fits of laughter that were erupting from my core. I had no clue what was so funny, but I couldn’t stop that, either.

By now, it occurred to me that if I had to be shooting out sparks, why not move to where they’d do some good? I tried to catch sight of the yeti in my dizzying spin and realized that if I moved in a northwestern direction, I’d end up near the creature, who was now fully engaged with Smoky and the boys.

As I danced closer, still spinning like a crazed top, Smoky let out a shout, and then Trillian. The next thing I knew, the smell of burning fur filled my nostrils, and with each spin, I found myself facing one very pissed off and scorched yeti.

One circle around and I caught sight of him gazing at me with those glowing, angry, topaz eyes. A second circle, and a big fuzzy white arm came flying out. The third and I staggered to the ground as his big ole’ fist met my crazed body.

I landed on the frozen driveway. Apparently the temperature had dropped enough for frost to form. The fucking dirt was hard and cold. But even getting smacked by Mr. Abominable Snowman couldn’t shake the pixie dust off me, because I began to struggle to my feet, still needing to dance. The next moment, Smoky had grabbed me under his arm, dragging me behind him as we raced through the yard toward the studio that had originally been a shed.

The minute we hit the door, he swept me up and barreled into the bathroom, where he shoved me—clothes and all—into the shower. One more second and he’d turned it on full blast. The water was cold, and shocked me into silence. As the spray warmed up, it began to wash off the pixie dust and my foggy thoughts began to lift. My body was still jazzed higher than a kite by all the energy I’d drawn in, but at least I didn’t feel the need to go gallivanting in a crazed polka around the room. I stood there, mutely under pounding water. Yeah, this outfit was a goner.

After a moment, Smoky turned off the spray. “Pixie dust gone?”

I searched for the dazed feelings brought on by the dust, but the only thing I felt was wired and bedraggled. After a moment, I nodded.

“Yeah, I think so. I’m pissed, but I’m thinking clearly and I don’t feel quite so possessed to go frolicking with Mr. Yeti. The yeti! Where the hell did it come from, and more importantly, what are we going to do about it?”

“I don’t know. When I saw it attack you, all I could think about was to get you out of the way. You were in no shape to protect yourself.” He held out a towel. I stripped, and leaving my wet clothes in the shower stall, I stepped out and wrapped the thick terry cloth around me. The soft cloth against my skin felt good, and I suddenly realized that I was rapidly growing tired—another side effect of too much pixie dust.

“I need to find something to wear and then we have to get the hell back to the house. The fact that pixies are having a field day in our yard is bad enough, but a yeti bounding out of our front door? More than a little scary.” A sudden thought hit me. “Maggie! We have to make sure Maggie is okay!” Pushing past him, I rushed out of the bathroom.

“You can’t go racing out there in a bathrobe.” Smoky motioned toward Rozurial’s room. “Grab something from the incubus’s closet and I’ll go check on Maggie.” And he was out the door before I could touch the knob.

Wanting to run after him, but realizing that dashing naked through the storm wasn’t exactly the brightest idea, I hurried into Roz’s room and tossed my way through his dresser. I found a tunic that fit over my Double-D’s, and a pair of pajama bottoms. Tying them firmly, I realized I’d have to go barefoot. My shoes were ruined and I couldn’t wear any of Roz’s boots—they were far too big. Sopping hair and all, I headed out of the studio, back toward the house, my feet freezing. The frozen soil and frosty grass made for a slippery mix, and I struggled to keep my footing as I raced back toward the house.

All hell had broken loose. Trillian and Morio were still fighting the yeti, and from what I could see, the damned thing seemed tougher than a dubba-troll. But that was only the half of it. Glimmers flickered from all over the yard—and every glimmer seemed to have some sort of creature attached to it.

The pixie was still flying around like a crazed maniac, and to my dismay, I spotted a couple more nearby. Hell. They were bad news, in general. Mistletoe was the exception to the rule and that’s only because he was our friend.

Beneath a huckleberry bush near my herb garden, I could see some sort of frosty hedgehog-like creature. Not certain what it was, I decided I had better get dressed before investigating.

Trampled shopping bags were scattered all over the yard, and I scanned the area, trying to locate everyone. I finally spotted Nerissa, in her werepuma form, and Delilah, who was still in panther form. They’d treed something, and both big cats were standing up against the trunk staring at whatever it was they’d managed to trap in the branches.

Menolly was up on top of the roof. She was after—what the hell? It looked like some sort of gremlin. She was climbing along the shingles, but the creature scampered over the tiles as if it were running on flat ground.

Rozurial was nowhere in sight, and Iris and Chase had taken off for Iris’s house. Vanzir was struggling with a figure beneath a cedar. They were rolling around on the ground, locked in a wrestling match, and I heard Vanzir utter a string of curses. Shade was chasing another glimmer around toward the backyard.

Motherfucking son of a bitch, what the hell was going on?

Just then, one of the Fae guards who patrolled our land ran over to my side, panting. “Camille—we’re overrun. Four of the men are out back fighting a group of barbegazi. And two of the men are chasing a couple of ice wolves.”

“Barbegazi? Ice wolves? What the hell are they?” I wasn’t sure I wanted to know, but then again, there was a lot I’d learned the hard way that I wished I didn’t have to know about.

“Barbegazi are creatures from the Northlands—very much like dwarves only smaller and, in a way, hardier. Usually they’re kindly natured but this batch appears to be a particularly surly lot. As for the ice wolves—they are also known as amaroks, at least to one Earthside tribal group. They’re wolf demons, dangerous and hungry for human flesh.” The guard glanced around, shaking his head. “I don’t know what happened, or where all of these creatures came from. The wards suddenly went off and we were swarming with them.”

“The rogue portal out back? Could they have come through there?” I motioned toward the porch steps, which were surprisingly clear. “I need to get dressed and get back out here.”

He followed me up the stairs. “No, the portal hasn’t been active at all. I—”

As we entered the house, he fell silent. First of all, the foyer was filled with snow. White, cold, sticky, wet snow. And it was snowing up a storm. Inside the house. Second, a loud humming emanated from the living room.

“Well . . . this is new.” I stared at snow on the floor, all twelve to fourteen inches of it. My feet were beginning to freeze.

“Wait here, Lady Camille.” The guard plowed his way into the living room, then within moments returned. “There’s a portal in your living room. The snow’s coming through there. Ten to one, that’s where all of these creatures came from, too.”

A portal? In the living room?

“Okay, then, well. I don’t know what to say to that. But come with me. I need to change and I don’t know what else might be rampaging through the house. I’d rather not be surprised while I’m getting dressed.” I darted through the snow, wincing as the sting of the frozen water hit my feet. The guard—whose name was Dez—followed me, sword out and ready.

The living room was, indeed, filled with snow, and it was beginning to drift up the walls, and out into the foyer and the parlor. The room was also decked out in the most garish holiday décor I had ever seen. In one corner stood a ten-foot-tall tree, blazing with neon flashing blue and green lights that made my eyes hurt. The lights ran the length of the room, following the ceiling around to form a terrifyingly bright border. Huge acrylic ornaments bedecked the tree, catching and reflecting the lights like crazed prisms.

“What the fuck . . . it looks like Crack Santa and his methed-out elves descended on our living room.”

“I don’t know, Lady Camille—I thought perhaps you decorated before you left for your shopping trip.”

“Oh, hell no. This mess? I have better taste than that. And you know Iris . . . yeah . . .”

The thought of Iris allowing such a gaudy show in our living room almost made me laugh. Thoroughly confused, I turned to the portal, which was shimmering in the opposite corner near the window. It was swirling with icy blue sparkles. I had no clue to where it led, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to dive through to find out.

“Okay, upstairs, to my rooms.”

As we headed up to the second story, the chill followed. It was still snowing when we reached my suite of rooms, and by the time we reached my bedroom, I could see my breath and my toes were numb.

Dez made a quick survey around the room and ascertained that nothing was amok—or at least, nothing was running amok.

I stripped down as he kept watch. The Fae—including half-Fae like myself—generally weren’t modest or embarrassed by nudity, and he stood by the door, guarding me, without so much as blinking an eye.

Slipping into my ready-to-rumble cat suit, which I wore when I knew we had a fight on our hands, I zipped it up and slid on a pair of kitten-heel granny boots. Then, slinging a belt around my hips, I fastened on the sheath containing my silver dagger.

After dressing, I made certain my unicorn horn was still safely hidden away in the secret compartment in my closet. For what we seemed to be facing, I didn’t think we’d need to use it. I wasn’t about to deplete its power this far from the new moon unless it was absolutely necessary.

Once I was finished, I slipped a capelet over my shoulders for extra warmth and quickly mopped the streaked makeup off my face. My eyeliner and mascara had survived—they were waterproof—but everything else was a lost cause. Less than ten minutes after we hit my bedroom, I was finished and ready to rock.

“Okay, back down to the first floor.”

But as we reached the landing, I paused. Someone was coming up the steps. I pulled out my dagger as Dez held his sword at the ready.

As the sound of footsteps rounded the turn, I held my breath, but then let it out in one big exhale as I saw it was Smoky, looking grim.

“Maggie’s all right,” he said before I could ask. “I left her hidden down in Menolly’s lair with Hanna to watch her. But that portal in the living room? I know where it goes. I hopped through to find out what the hell was going on.”

“Where does it lead? And can you close it?” We followed him as he turned, heading back down the stairs.

Smoky shook his head, glancing over his shoulder. “No, I can’t close it. The gate was opened by powerful magic, and I can’t do anything about it. But as I said, I crossed over to see where it led. I’m not sure who the hell did this, but the portal? It leads into the Northlands, as far as I can tell.”

My heart began to beat faster. The Northlands could be reached via Otherworld, and through perilous routes up in the higher reaches over here, Earthside. I had a lot of bad associations with the lands at the top of the world. And there were a lot of harsh, volatile creatures who made their homes there, including dragons like Smoky’s father, who had imprisoned and tortured me.

“So the question is, who opened this portal, and why?”

“Right now, I think the more important question is: Just what all has come through so far? And what else can we expect before we manage to close it down?” Smoky’s grim smile deepened. “Let’s get back outside, woman. We need to do something to stop that yeti from trampling the yard.”

I turned to the guard. “Dez, stay here, please, and guard the portal. Don’t put your life in danger, but if something else comes through, try to stop it if you can. And if you can’t, get the hell outside so we know what we’re facing next.”

With that, Smoky and I headed back outside, into the fray.

New York Times best-selling author Yasmine Galenorn writes urban fantasy, mystery, and metaphysical nonfiction, including the New York Times best-selling Otherworld series. A graduate of Evergreen State College, she majored in theater and creative writing. Yasmine has been in the Craft for more than thirty years and is a shamanic witch. She describes her life as a blend of teacups and tattoos, and lives in the Seattle area with her husband, Samwise, and their cats.