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Night Myst


I started to back away, but he began to follow. Stopping, I whispered, "You've changed so much."


"More than you can ever know." With another laugh, he ran his hand down my arm, then hooked me around the waist. The cold seeped into my body but I barely noticed it. A swirl of snowflakes fell, twirling around our faces as his breath came in soft puffs, warming my face.


"I can save you and your friends from Myst, as long as you obey me. There's nothing I can do to help your aunt. But you . . . and your cousin . . . I can keep you alive if you cooperate. If you look the other way."


Barely able to breathe, I slowly shook my head. "We can't do that. We can't leave Heather--or the town--to the mercy of the Indigo Court. This is no game, and Heather's life isn't up for grabs, even in order to keep us alive."


He let out a low breath. "Then the only way I can help is to keep silent about what you've told me," he whispered, his breath trailing down my neck in a thin line of mist. He moaned softly and pressed his teeth against my skin.


I stood perfectly still as the razor-sharp points nicked my flesh, poised for the bite. A drop of saliva hit my skin, then another, and--reacting to the warmth of his body--I leaned against him.


"Grieve." I murmured his name. "Oh, Grieve . . ." As if he sensed I'd lost control, Grieve shuddered and pushed me away. "Go. Go before I take you right here. I can no longer help my nature."


I stared at him, my breath ragged. "You're lying. You wouldn't be here, warning me, if you couldn't control your instincts."


"Don't doubt me! I know who I am. I know what I am. Now, go, damn you!" He whirled, his eyes blazing, then the air shimmered as he shifted back into a wolf and bared his teeth.


Ever so slowly, I backed away toward the house, praying that neither Rhiannon nor Leo would utter a word till we made it inside. One wrong move, one wrong sound, and Grieve would be on me and he'd either tear me to shreds or carry me off. As I reached the porch and climbed the steps, he turned and loped back toward the ravine.


"Get indoors," I said hoarsely. "Now!"


Leo slammed the door behind us, then locked it. A thin plank of wood was all that stood between us and the dangerously seductive Indigo Court.


"How are those protection charms coming?" I hurried from room to room, making certain all the windows and doors were locked. "We've got to have some sort of protection for the doors tonight."


Rhiannon motioned for us to follow her into the utility room. "I found the batch of protection oil that Heather made up. While you were upstairs unpacking, I covered enough wooden pentacles with it to hold the windows fast."


"And I charged up several witches' bottles." Leo lifted the bottles, clear glass filled with threads and sparkling salts and herbs. "Set one by each door leading to the outside. Then a drop or two of blood on them should trigger the spell and they'll keep out intruders. But they won't last against a sustained assault and I have no doubt that any magicians the Indigo Court has within its ranks will be able to break through. I wouldn't trust these for more than two days, tops."


"Let's get to it then. I'll hang the protection charms over the windows upstairs. Rhiannon, take the downstairs windows. Leo--you made the bottles, so you should put them by the doors. Make sure all the cats are inside for the night."


Rhiannon and Leo grabbed their supplies and took off. I headed for the stairs, but stopped in the living room, drawing back the curtain to peer out of the window. Twilight had fallen and lights flickered from the ravine.


Faerie lights, they looked like Christmas lights, twinkling against the snowscape, but I know they were willo'-the-wisps. Masks of illusion, the corpse candles were harbingers of death and I knew without a doubt that Myst controlled their movements. The Mistress of Mayhem was in charge, and one of her servants had a direct feed into my body and heart.


Chapter 8


The next morning, on my way to the gym at New Forest Conservatory, I kept my eyes open, but nothing seemed out of place. I'd promised Rhiannon I'd meet her for coffee after my workout before she headed into work.


Early morning, the skies were brighter than they'd been the day before, but a silvery luminescence to the clouds promised more snow later. The chill seeped right through my leather jacket and I decided to take it in to an alterations shop and have it lined.


On my way across campus, it struck me how silent the conservatory seemed. New Forest Conservatory was a small school on a large campus. Along with a focus on basic learning, the school taught magical and physical skills to the magic-born in the area, as well as community service classes for older Supes--vamps and Fae primarily--in order to help them adjust to life out in the open. But the majority attending were under eighteen, and of the magic-born.


Set on a thousand acres of wooded land on the outskirts of the town, the school accepted a total of one thousand students each year, with preference granted to returning students who met the strict requirements for progress.


The conservatory had an Old World feel to it, which wasn't a surprise, considering Geoffrey's people were in charge. The vamps ran just about every school like this. They were the ones with the money. Most of the magic-born did okay, but nothing like what the vamps could pull in.


I glanced at the large bay windows dotting the sides of the buildings. Lights shone from within, except for two buildings, which seemed to have no windows at all. At first I couldn't figure it out, but then it clicked--vampires. Must be the buildings where most of the night classes were held.


"Man, this place has a lot of trees," I said, staring up at thick stands of oak, cedar, and fir that towered around the buildings. That's one thing I'd missed down in LA--the trees.


As I came to Terrance Hall, the center where the gymnasium was located, I looked around for Peyton, but she wasn't anywhere in sight. We were supposed to meet at the front desk, but I thought we might run into each other entering the building. Pushing through the double doors, I jogged over to the gym and stopped at the check-in counter. A young woman was sitting behind the desk, her eyes brilliant topaz, ringed with black. Fae? No . . . werewolf. I could smell her right off. Odd that she'd work here, but at least New Forest Conservatory didn't discriminate in employment.


"I'm looking for Peyton Moon Runner. Has she checked in yet?"


The girl's nose twitched and she gave me a disdainful look, but checked the register without a word. She shook her head. "I'm sorry, I don't see her listed here. Everyone who enters is required to leave their membership card at the desk, so I'd know if she came through."


"Are you sure?" I glanced up at the clock. Seven thirty. Right on time.


"I'm positive," she said, less friendly. "You want to check yourself?"


Shaking my head, I moved over to one of the benches by the large window looking out to the main square. By seven forty, I was growing concerned. I pulled out my cell phone and punched in Peyton's number.


After five rings her voice messaging came on and I left a brief message. By seven fifty I was getting worried, and by eight, I grabbed my duffel bag and headed out. I debated whether to call Anadey or the police, but decided to wait to see what Rhiannon had to say.


I crossed the campus to the Grove, the main eatery at the school, and called Rhiannon on the way. "Listen, can you meet me early? . . . Yeah, the Grove, it is . . . I don't know if anything's wrong but I don't have a good feeling about this."


As I hung up, I entered Brekhart Hall and took the stairs down to the bottom story. The halls were wide and welcoming, if old, and made me wish I'd been able to attend here when I was younger. But those days were long past.


Maybe you can attend a night class or two, a community-sponsored class, Ulean said.


Maybe . . . but with what's going on, I'm not too sure that's a good idea.


The Grove was a pleasant, airy room. In place of long dining tables stood dozens of square tables, each sitting four to six people. The atmosphere definitely felt more restaurant than cafeteria. The average age of students seemed in line with what I'd read--early teens to mid-twenties. And all of them felt tingly with energy.


Rhiannon came rushing in just as I picked up my order--a triple-shot mocha and a sausage and cheese breakfast sandwich--and slid into the seat opposite. She was shivering.


"Let me get hot coffee--it's snowing hard." While she hurried up to the counter, I tried Peyton again. And again, no answer. Now I was getting seriously freaked. Peyton didn't strike me as the type to blow off an appointment without calling.


When she returned, Rhia was carrying a white chocolate mocha, a bowl of oatmeal, and two hard-boiled eggs. She slipped out of her coat and took a sip of the steaming mocha, her eyes closing in gratitude.


"Cripes, it's cold out. But this makes me feel almost human." She let out a long sigh. "What's up?"


"What's up is that Peyton didn't show and I can't get her on the phone. I tried calling her several times. Nothing."


Rhiannon's expression dropped. "Crap. Have you called Anadey?"


"I was waiting for your advice. I don't want to scare her in case it's just car trouble. But Peyton had my phone number and I'm sure she would have called me if it had been that."


"Unless she forgot her phone at home. But then, Anadey would have answered when you called, wouldn't she? Give her a call. She won't be at the diner yet--she usually works afternoons and evenings."


While Rhia warmed herself with her coffee, I phoned Anadey, who answered on the second ring.


"Cicely? Why hello--I thought you were with Peyton."


"She was supposed to meet me this morning for a workout, yes, but . . ." I paused, not knowing exactly how to phrase it.


Just say it outright, child. That's the only way you can. Ulean's calming presence helped and I cleared my throat.


"Peyton never showed and she hasn't called. I thought maybe she forgot her cell phone at home and has had car trouble?"


Silence. Then, a soft but audible gasping for air, as if someone had knocked the wind out of her. "No, she had it with her when she left. She was fully intending on meeting you, Cicely. I think I'd better call the police."


"Do you want me to come over? Rhiannon has to work, but I can be there in ten minutes." I pushed back my chair.


"Would you, please? Though I don't know what good the cops will do. They aren't helping anybody much lately." She gave me her address and hung up.


I turned to my cousin. "Peyton left home with her cell phone, all right. But she hasn't checked in. I'm headed over there now. Anadey's calling the cops. I'll give you a ring and let you know what's going on after we talk to them. And, Rhia . . ."


"Yes?" Her brow pinched as if she were trying not to cry.


"Be careful, okay? Don't leave campus without calling me. Too many people are disappearing lately."


I grabbed my coffee and sandwich and headed for Favonis on the run, trying to dart between the tiny, stinging flakes that were whipping down from angry skies. By the time I go to the car, I looked like I had a horrible case of dandruff. Sliding behind the wheel, I let out a long sigh. Today was starting off on a very bad note.


Anadey was waiting for me when I got to her apartment. I could see why she was planning to move into Marta's house--the place was tiny and she and Peyton had to feel cramped.


She led me into the living room, which was smaller than my bedroom at the Veil House, and motioned for me to sit down. The cops were already there, and they looked bored. One of them gave me a nod and continued with what he'd apparently been saying when I'd interrupted. "Like I said, she probably forgot the appointment and stopped off at a store. Maybe she saw a pair of shoes that caught her eye or something."


I bristled. "Listen, Peyton was coming to the gym to spar with me, not talk nail polish or the latest fashions. I've tried calling her several times and there's no answer. Can you at least have your cruisers out on the street look around for any sign of an accident? What if she's hurt? In case you haven't noticed, it's damned cold and snowing hard. She might have had an accident."


I didn't for the moment believe it, but just in case--and to get them off their butts--I decided to push that possibility.


"We've put out a call to all our men. We've checked the gas station and everywhere else Peyton might have stopped at. Ms. Moon Runner gave us her daughter's license plate number and car description. But ladies, that's all I can do for now. I'm sorry."


He stood and, together with his partner, sauntered out of the apartment. Anadey watched them go, then slammed the door, furious. "That is the attitude all the cops have had since . . . since all this started happening. I'm surprised Geoffrey's putting up with it. The vamps run the town, you know--they always have. Now it seems there's a new queen calling the shots and that can't be going over well." She leaned against the counter, her lips pressed tightly together.


I joined her, awkwardly patting her back. "Maybe we're wrong. Maybe she did stop somewhere."


You know that's not true, Ulean whispered.


I know, but what else can I say? The woman has to hold on to some hope and that's the only thing I can think of. It won't last long, granted, but it will get her through the next hour or so.


"Was she supposed to stop for anything before she drove to the gym? If so, we can follow her progress."


Anadey's head snapped up. "Yes, actually, she was. She mentioned she needed to stop for gas before she met you, which is why she left early. She drives a Kia--a small red compact. We always go to the station on Twelfth Avenue--they have the lowest prices and we have an account there."

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