Darkling

Page 13

Camille glanced at me. "What do your instincts tell you?"
I stared at the table a moment, trying to explain. "My instincts aren't like yours. And vampires are adept at hiding themselves, at cloaking their true natures. I honestly don't know, though I doubt she's behind any of this. I'm pretty sure we're dealing with Dredge." After a moment, I looked up to find Camille watching me, a strange expression on her face. "You're wondering about me, aren't you?"
She sputtered. "No, not at all—I didn't mean anything—"
Delilah paled and dropped her napkin on the floor. I sighed, leaning my head back to study the ceiling. "It's okay. Really. I know you're still wary of me. And you should be. I will never hurt you… not so long as I know what I'm doing. But we have to face facts. I'm a demon now. Sometimes… things happen." I raised my head, feeling the tears well up in my eyes. Damned emotions—even though they'd been altered, they were still there.
Camille leaned forward, pushing her plate back, her expression somber. "What do you want us to do if you ever…"
"If I ever lose control? If the predator within fully takes over?" I stared at her, unblinking. "Stake me. Kill me any way you can. I refuse to let Dredge win. I refuse to become a carbon copy of that deranged sadist. I'd rather return to our ancestors than stay alive as a monster."
Delilah's lip trembled and she began to shiver. I motioned to Camille, who hurried around the table. "Delilah," she said, "honey, it's okay. Everything's okay—"
"We're just speaking hypothetically, Kitten. Don't worry—"
The words barely left my mouth when a shower of golden light surrounded Delilah and she began to transform. Shit. Both Camille and I should have known better than to bring up such a sensitive subject without warning her. Even though Delilah was marked as a Death Maiden serving the Autumn Lord now, even though she was able to shift into a black panther when he ordered her to, at heart, she was still that fragile golden tabby cat.
Camille reached her first. Delilah looked up from the floor and mewed, and Camille held out her arms. With a single leap, Delilah hurtled into her arms and buried her head in Camille's substantial boobs.
"I didn't think," she said. "Or I would have asked you privately, then broached the subject to Delilah slowly." She sat down in Delilah's chair and stroked her long fur gently, kissing the top of the cat's forehead. "Oh baby, for all your bravado, you're still too gentle hearted." Camille gave me a bleak look. "I worry about her in the coming war. Shadow Wing's only thrown his minor minions at us. What happens when the hordes break through?"
I shook my head. "We deal with that when it happens. Delilah will survive. That mark on her forehead guarantees her an ally stronger than demons. Nobody can best Death… or his henchmen. And like it or not, our sister's now married to the Lord of the Harvest. It will take her some time, but want to make a bet she ends up tougher than either one of us?"
Iris had remained silent during our exchange. Now, she pushed herself off of her stool and skirted the table to take Delilah from Camille, resting Kitten over her shoulder. Delilah complied without protest, her wide round eyes staring at the wall with that cat like single-minded gaze.
"You girls are all stronger than you think," Iris said. "You have to be. And I'll be there by your side, no matter what happens. And I'm pretty sure that at the Supe meeting tomorrow night, you'll realize just how many allies you're gathering. Word's gotten around."
"What do you mean?" I stared at Iris.
She tilted her head to one side and a sly smile crept to her lips. "Think about it for a moment. The Hunters Moon Clan—one of the more feared Were clans in the area—wiped out." She snapped her fingers. "Decimated in one night. Everybody knows who's to thank for that. People know you have a dragon on your side. Why, even Delilah's transformation into a Death Maiden has hit the grapevine. You don't realize just how famous you're becoming. When the Sub-Cult network figures out what's really going down with Shadow Wing, they'll want to survive. They'll follow you, when push comes to shove."
Camille dusted off her dress and returned to her meal.
I closed my eyes. "Weary is he who wears the crown of a king," I said.
"Don't set yourself up on a throne yet," Iris warned me. . "Wearier yet are those who seek to knock it off his head, and more desperate. The battle lines are being drawn." She sat back and closed her eyes. The energy in the room grew thick and Delilah settled down on her chest, purring. "Over the coming months, the Supe community will be coming out of the closet and banding together. There are going to be rough times ahead. I'm afraid humans will think the Supes are rising against them. If so…"
"Gang warfare." Camille slid off her chair and knelt beside Iris. "Iris, are you a seer?"
A slow smile spread across the Talon-haltija's face and she let out a whispered, "When the need arises. There are many things I've done in my past that you know nothing about. Trust me, I'm here for a reason." And then, without opening her eyes, she turned toward me. "You must go to Aladril. He is waiting for you. Do you understand?"
A shiver ran through me, chilling me far colder than the death pall of my skin. Magic was in the air, the magic of Sight, the magic of prognostication, the magic of wind and ice, which Iris wielded with skill.
"We're going Sunday night."
Camille placed one hand on Iris's knee. "Is there anything you need? Anything you require?"
Iris let out a soft breath. "Bring me a crystal. You may have to buy it from one of the shops. Aqualine—a clear blue stone that only comes from the depths of the Wyvern Ocean. Sirens mine it and sell it to the seers. It will cost more than you can afford, but tell them that a priestess of Undutar needs it. That should do the trick."
"Undutar?" As I spoke, Iris shook out of her trance and blinked. I was about to ask again when Delilah let out a loud purp and leapt down from Iris's shoulder, racing toward the curtains. She only made it halfway before the golden mist surrounded her and her body began to transform, contorting in on itself as she twisted in the most painful-looking convulsions, a blur of fur and flesh caught in the throes of our family's magic. As she landed on her knees, letting out a loud "oof," Camille rushed over to her side.
I looked at Iris, who gazed silently back. When I opened my mouth to speak, she shook her head. "Don't ask. Not yet. It's not the time, Menolly. I couldn't tell you about my relationship to Undutar even if you threatened me. There are events in my past about which I cannot speak…" Her words drifted off as her eyes sparkled with a shining vortex of light. The silver of the moon, the indigo of twilight, white clouds racing past on the wind.
Iris let out a long sigh, and then her eyes once more returned to the color of morning sky. As much as she'd piqued my curiosity, I knew better than to press. Iris would tell us when—and if—she could. I nodded silently, then hurried over to help Camille with Delilah, who was looking dazed, but no worse for the wear.
"You okay, Kitten?" I asked as she slid into her chair.
Camille picked up the teapot and began refilling their cups.
Delilah nodded, blushing. "Sorry. I thought I was gaining more control over my shifting but apparently I'm not. Either that or it's just as sporadic as Camille's magic."
"Hey!" Camille stopped in midpour. "I'll have you know, I'm doing much better on certain spells now."
"Yeah, if you count death magic. But I'm talking about moon magic—your innate skills." Delilah gave her a toothy grin. "I'm not being snide, Camille. You seem to have a knack for the dark magic that Morio's teaching you, but can you honestly say you're any better with the spells you learned from childhood?"
Camille let out a loud sigh. "I don't know. And I don't understand why I take to death magic so well. It's rather unnerving, but I know I have to learn what he's teaching me. It feels important, but I don't know why." She glanced at the clock. "We all need sleep. As it is, Delilah and I will only manage a few hours. Menolly, we'll wake you up before the meeting and all head out together."
I nodded as the two of them gave me a peck on the cheek, waved to Iris, then headed upstairs. They walked in the world of the day. I lived during the nighttime. Two very different worlds, separated by the sun.
"I guess I'll head out to Sassy's." I pushed myself out of the chair and glanced at the clock. Still four hours till sunrise. Plenty of time to drive over to the Green Lake area and see if anything was going down that I should know about. "Iris, keep watch over the place," I said.
She patted my hand. "I always do, my dear. You be careful, you hear?"
"Loud and clear," I said, snatching up my keys and purse as I headed out the door for my Jag.
The drive to Sassy's took about twenty minutes this time of night. Seattle's streets were clear, with only the occasional car slinking through the dimly lit streets. The ice still frozen on the pavement shimmered under the street lights and the world felt muffled, hushed by the cushion of snow that had frozen solid over the past few days. Once again, I made a note to ask Camille about the winter. She and Iris could look into it and see if there was anything magical going on behind the sudden Arctic freeze that still held Seattle in its grip.
Sassy's house was actually a mansion, set back on two acres of well-kept grounds with a spiked fence that circled the property. The actual gate worked on an intercom system and so I punched the button, grateful that I wouldn't need to get out of the car and open the thing myself. Not that the cold would bother me or the work, or even the iron—much—if I hurried, but the night had already been stressful. I wanted this visit to go nice and easy.
"Yes?" Janet's voice echoed out of the intercom. Sassy's assistant, Janet, had been with her for forty years, since Sassy's sweet sixteen.
"It's Menolly. I need to talk to Sassy. Is she home?" Janet knew who I was. Janet was also the only nonvamp besides my sisters who were privy to the fact that Sassy now carried a prime-card membership to the bloodsuckers club. Apparently the older woman had accepted the change as placidly as she might accept a notice that the garbage route had been shifted to a different day or that her neighborhood market was having a fifty-cent-off sale.
Janet was a woman of few words. She didn't answer, but the gate clicked and slowly opened. I waited until I could drive through without scratching my car, then wound up the narrow driveway at five miles per hour to avoid hitting any stray animals that might be passing by. The Branson estate was overgrown with weeping willow trees and oak, fir and lilacs. Sassy had married well, despite her natural inclinations, and when Johan had died, he left her with enough money so she'd never have to worry again. Of course, he hadn't counted on providing for her for an eternity, but Sassy would cross that bridge when she came to it.
I parked outside the four-story manor that resembled a plantation house, complete with wrap-around porch. As I dashed up the steps, I wondered what the hell Sassy was going to do with this joint over the years. In thirty years or so, people would be expecting her to die. Then what would she do? Fake her own death?
The door was adorned with a Marley knocker. Sassy had a wicked sense of humor. As the large brass knocker hit the striker button, a resounding thud echoed from within and the theme from The Munsters chimed through the hall.
A moment later, Janet opened the door.
"Good evening," I said, giving her a quick smile. Janet had a strong influence on Sassy. Stay on her good side and treat her with respect and she'd go out of her way to help you if she could. Sassy was rather scatterbrained, and Janet watched over her like a mother hen.
"Evening, Miss Menolly," the older woman said. Tall, with snow white hair and skin barely beyond the albino white of my own complexion, Janet carried herself with a Julia Child hump. She never gave any indications of being tired or in pain, and was always impeccably dressed in a linen skirt suit.
"Miss Sassy's waiting in the parlor for you." She gestured to the first door on the right.
"Thank you." As I opened the door, the stark whiteness of the room blinded me, contrasting with the brick red of the stuccoed hallway.
Sassy's parlor was as classy as her entire life had been. Not a speck of dust dared to linger on the highly polished tables, every plant was lush and green. Each morning, Janet opened the heavy velvet drapes and windows, allowing the room to air out so it always smelled fresh and clean.
Sassy, wearing a pale blue Ann Taylor pantsuit, was sitting in a wingback chair upholstered in a neutral jacquard. Her hair, as usual, was perfectly coiffed. She'd been agonizing whether or not to dye it for weeks now.
"If it's horrid, then I'll have to bleach it back," she'd say.
"So don't do it," I'd answered back.
"But I miss having gorgeous red hair—I want hair the color of yours."
And I'd shake my head and remind her that, vampire or not, abuse the hair often enough and she'd end up sporting an eternal bald spot.
I knew it wasn't exactly PC, but at the core, I was relieved that—if I had to be turned into a vampire—at least I'd been young and in good health when it happened. Barring the little gifts Dredge left on my skin, that is.
"Menolly!" Sassy jumped up, a brilliant smile spreading across her face. She held out her arms and I reluctantly let her embrace me. She kissed me on both cheeks. Air kisses, yeah, but I didn't really like being touched by anyone other than my sisters or Iris. "What brings you to visit?"