Night Huntress

Iris nodded, and her veiled look told me the door for discussion was closed and locked. “Yes, I lived there for a good share of my early years, after I grew out of maidenhood but before I came to work for the Kuusis. There were a host of bloatworgles, kobolds, and other dark dwellers there. They’re endemic to a number of places besides the Subterranean Realms, so there is a chance that this creature has no connection to Shadow Wing.”

“Not likely,” I muttered. “Given our track record? Given what we’re up against? No, I don’t think we should discount the probability that this was a scouting mission.”

“Maybe, but Karvanak already scouted out our land, and he answers directly to Big Bad himself,” Menolly said. “Let’s face it, we’ve moved up the ladder. Shadow Wing isn’t going to throw grunts at us now that he’s got one of the spirit seals.”

That put a chill on the conversation. One of Shadow Wing’s generals, Karvanak—a Rāksasa who had managed to thwart our last mission—had managed to steal the third spirit seal. Not good. Not good at all. We weren’t sure just what Shadow Wing could do with one seal, but our battle was a lot more dangerous than if we’d managed to keep it out of his grasp.

Nine spirit seals. Nine gems that had originally been one. An ancient artifact, the spirit seal had been forged and then broken. The break had signaled the Great Divide that parted the realms, making it much harder for the demons to break through to Earth or Otherworld.

If all nine parts are reunited, the portals separating the realms will shatter, leaving the worlds open and vulnerable as movement between them would flow freely again. We’ve managed to find two spirit seals, now safely hidden away for safekeeping, but we’re racing against time. Shadow Wing, the Demon Lord running the Subterranean Realms, is also after them, and he plans to use them to rip open the veils and send his armies marching through to raze both Earth and Otherworld, turning them into his own private hell.

My sisters and I and a ragtag bunch of friends are the only ones standing in the way. We’re on the front line, facing the devil himself.

When we first came Earthside from Otherworld, we’d considered the assignment tantamount to exile. The OIA, the Otherworld Intelligence Agency, had made it clear that we weren’t very good at our jobs. Our half-human, half-Fae bloodline skews our powers, and so our superiors thought they’d found a way to keep us out of the way without firing us.

But a few months after we’d arrived, Shadow Wing began to make his move. At the same time, a civil war broke out back home, and our father disappeared from the Guard Des’Estar.

Chaos rules our lives now, and we’re stuck here, fighting against a force that could decimate millions, both human and Fae. Our opium-dazed queen from Y’Elestrial, our home city, has put a bounty on our heads, so we can’t go back home. At least not to our city. Our allies are few and fragile. A bizarre mix including FBHs (full-blooded humans), Fae, demons, Cryptos, and a dragon, none of them necessarily getting along with the others.

And then there’s my sisters and me.

Half-human, half-Fae, we’re a mismatched set at best. Currently we live in Belles-Faire, a seedy suburb of Seattle on the outskirts of the city.

Camille’s a witch, pledged to the Moon Mother. Sexual and passionate, she recently married Smoky, the dragon, and Morio, an Earthside fox demon. She’s also bound by a magical sexual union to Trillian. He’s Svartan, one of the dark, charming Fae, and he disappeared while looking for our father a couple months ago. Camille’s powers are sketchy at times, often backfiring on her, but as the eldest, she looks after all of us and holds the reins when it comes to dealing with the organization of our little band of ragtag guerrillas.

Menolly, my younger sister, was tortured and turned by one of the worst vampires in history. We managed to dust him into oblivion, but the scars that cover Menolly’s body will live on for eternity. She’s recently gotten active in vampire and Earthside Supe politics and is in the process of setting up an underground police state to keep tabs on the bloodsucker activity in the area.

And then, there’s me, Delilah. Werecat by nature, my golden tabby nature has been with me since birth. But in our quest for the second spirit seal, my path crossed with one of the Immortals, the Elemental known as the Autumn Lord. One of the Harvestmen, he’s an avatar of Death. In return for his help, he claimed me as one of his Death Maidens. Shortly after my transformation, another Were form began to emerge: a black panther, over which I seem to have no control.

At first, I thought the new form had shown up because of the Autumn Lord, but then the idea was broached that I might have had a twin who died at birth. If so, I could be inheriting her powers. Camille has no clue whether this is true, and our father’s nowhere around to ask, so I’ve pushed the thought to the back burner. But sometimes, I can’t help but wonder—did I have a twin, or not? And if so, what had happened to my sister? Why did she die?

“What’s our next step?” Menolly asked.

Chase yawned. “I don’t know about you, but I have to get another hour or two of sleep. I’m wearing two hats at work, remember. Since Devins was killed by the troll, I haven’t had a chance to breathe, let alone take more than a scattered handful of days off. Plus the FH-CSI is in the middle of an overhaul, and I have to be there to supervise.” The Faerie-Human Crime Scene Investigations team was Chase’s brainchild, and he was in charge of the unit. Nationwide, all FH-CSI units had been based on the prototype he’d started here in Seattle.

“Go on up,” I said, pressing my lips to his lightly. As I lingered in his embrace, he searched my eyes, and I thought I saw a flicker of doubt there. Suddenly nervous, I pulled him to me and leaned into the kiss. After a second’s hesitation, he returned my kiss, but he was holding back. I could feel it. Too tired and nervous to ask him what was going on, I merely said, “I’ll be up soon.”

He pushed himself off the sofa. He was my height—six one—and as swarthy as I was fair. Chase’s curly hair was slicked back close to his head. He couldn’t wear it long, and long wasn’t his style anyway, but his dark eyes gave him a slightly dangerous look, and he was trim and kept himself fit. He was sporting the beginnings of a mustache and goatee, and I rather liked the new look. Impeccably neat, he loved designer suits and polished shoes. We were opposite in so many ways, but our differences only added to the spice. Or so I liked to think.

As he hit the stairs, I turned back to the others. “We have to talk to Camille. There has to be some way for us to get a warning when her magical wards break. Maybe Morio and I can figure out something. I’m getting pretty good with some of the Earthside tech stuff, and Morio’s good at merging it with magic.”

“Vanzir’s due back first thing in the morning,” Menolly said. “He’s been scouting around the past few days, and I got a call from him while you were out of the house. He said he’s found something that we need to attend to. We’ll need Camille and her boys, because I won’t be able to go in with you on this one. Vanzir said that the best time to take them on is during the day. Whoever they are. I put in a call and left a message on Camille’s new cell phone.”

Vanzir was a dream chaser demon who’d been in the service of Karvanak, the Rāksasa. At the last minute, Vanzir had turned sides and defected to us. He wasn’t fit to join the Boy Scouts, not by any means, but he didn’t want Shadow Wing infiltrating Earth. I wasn’t quite clear on exactly why, but apparently the dream chaser had his reasons, and he was oath bound to Iris and my sisters and me. If he turned on us, he died.

“I guess I’d better get some more sleep, too. How can we make sure the bloatworgle doesn’t come back and try to get in the house?” I winced as I stretched. My body felt achy and sore, like I’d lost too many nights of sleep and had been drinking too much caffeine—neither of which I was prone to do.

Menolly motioned at the stairs. “Go to sleep, Kitten. You too, Iris. Roz and I’ll watch over the place until sunup. Rest deep. I have the feeling you’re going to need it.”

As Iris trundled off to bed, and I trudged up the stairs, I wondered just what Vanzir had roped us into now. Over the past few months, it felt like we’d gone from killing a handful of bad guys here and there to constantly patrolling the city in search of demons and vampires and monsters.

If that wasn’t enough to deal with, rogue portals had been opening on their own, allowing denizens from Otherworld to come through unannounced, and they weren’t always user-friendly.

To top it off, the Earthside Courts of Fae were rising again with Titania, Morgaine, and Aeval at their helms, and there was a tension in the air between the Fae from Otherworld and those who lived Earthside. Neither side fully trusted the other, and I prayed that we wouldn’t end up with a civil war of our own right here in Seattle.

Life had gone from being simple and fun to one bloody nightmare after another. I sighed as I hit the landing leading up to my suite of rooms on the third floor. There was no going back. That much I knew. We couldn’t go home again, either figuratively or for real. And the latter thought made me want to weep.

By the time I rose at five forty-five, Chase was gone. He’d left me a brief, crisp note but hadn’t woken me up to say good-bye. I frowned. This was too much. Whether he liked it or not, it was time we had a talk.

As I clattered downstairs, I found everyone in a state of preparation. Camille was sitting in the kitchen, along with Morio and Smoky. They were an odd pair, her husbands were. Morio was on the shorter side, Japanese, with a long, sleek ponytail. He dressed in grays and blacks, a perpetual twinkle lit his eyes, and he was deeply devoted in our fight against the demons.

Smoky, on the other hand, was an almost-albino six four, with ankle-length silver hair that moved on its own. His gaze could freeze boiling water, and he was single-minded in his focus on Camille. He helped us out, all right, but if Camille hadn’t been around, I had the feeling he wouldn’t have given us the time of day.

The three were sitting around the breakfast table, discussing tactics and strategy in hushed whispers.

Menolly was asleep in her lair, of course, and Maggie was snoozling in her playpen. Roz was helping Iris set the table. Over in the corner, flipping through a stack of papers that looked like old maps, was Vanzir.

The dream chaser looked human, all right. With platinum-blond hair that was slicked back in a shag, and a lean, gaunt face, he looked like a heroin-chic rocker, but the fire in his eyes gave away his demonic heritage. He wore jeans and a sweatshirt, and the sentient collar encircling his neck beneath the skin was proof that he’d undergone the Ritual of Subjugation. If he broke his oath, the collar would burn him to a crisp.

I poured myself a glass of milk and darted out of the way as Roz carried a platter of pancakes and bacon to the table. Iris followed with a dish of scrambled eggs. As I slid into my chair, I leaned over to tap Vanzir on the knee. I didn’t particularly like him, but he’d turned out to be true to his word. Whether it was from the threat of annihilation or not, I wasn’t sure, but since he was holding up his end of the bargain, I did my best to be polite.

“What’s shaking?”

He gave me a lazy look. “I was waiting for you to wake up.”

“Well, I’m awake. Let’s have it,” I said as I speared a stack of pancakes. Iris had made a towering platter of them, and she must have fried up two pounds of bacon, all of which would be gone by the time we were done with breakfast.

Sitting between her two men, Camille slathered her pancakes with butter and syrup and dug in, leaning over the table so she didn’t drip syrup on her boobs, which conveniently acted like a catch tray.

“You buy a new bra? You look especially perky this morning.” I jabbed my finger in the direction of her chest and snorted. “Honestly, with as much as you have to go around, it’s a good thing you’ve got two men!”

“Three,” she said automatically, her face clouding over.

“Three,” I said softly. “I’m sorry. I never forget about Trillian, trust me.”

“Neither do I,” she whispered.

My little attempt at humor had landed as flat as roadkill. I cleared my throat and turned back to Vanzir, who was delicately wiping his mouth. He ate very little, and I wondered just what his natural form of food was. I didn’t bother asking. I might not like the answer.

“Go ahead. We’re listening.”

Getting nods from around the table, he said, “Okay, I’ve located a nest of venidemons. Not sure how they got here, but they’re usually only found in the Sub Realms. Nasty buggers, though.”

Shit. Venidemons—venomous demonic blowflies from the Subterranean Realms. They were nearly as big as my head and were damned fast for their size. Using their needlelike stingers, they injected a butt load of toxic soup into the bloodstream. Along with the toxin, which paralyzed within seconds, was a mess of eggs, which hatched within twenty-four hours and began nibbling the victim from the inside out.

“Damn parasites.” Camille grimaced. “Hate parasites.”

Smoky tenderly reached over to brush back a lock of her hair. “I won’t let them hurt you,” he said, then went back to his own breakfast.

She arched her eyebrows and gave me a quick grin. If Smoky had his way, she’d be secreted away in that barrow of his, safe from all unwelcome visitors—and other suitors. Sometimes the Stones were right, though, and we couldn’t get what we wanted. So Smoky had settled for joining our exploits, even though he had little interest in anything other than whatever he happened to fancy at the time. Dragons made great mercenaries, if you paid them enough. Apparently Camille’s hand in marriage had been enough to ensure his help.