Night Myst

Page 2

As Anadey packaged my food and handed it to me, Snarly Dude came back from the bathroom, his full lips curling in a derisive, leering manner. I returned his gaze, keeping my expression neutral. Tossing a ten and a couple bucks for a tip on the counter, I headed toward the door, my senses on high alert.
Watch my back.
As always, Cicely . . . as always, came Ulean's calming thoughts.
Once I was in the parking lot, a shift in the current alerted me. I paused, listening.
They're following you . . .
I know, I whispered gently. I can feel them.
Not just them. Another. Older, more dangerous. I don't recognize the energy though.
I slowly exhaled, relaxing into my body. Tension could ruin a good punch, could turn a good fight into a bad one. I gave the parking lot a look-see. Five cars to my left. Another three to my right. Gauging how long it would take me to dash across the street, across the snow and ice, I headed for the sidewalk. The street was mostly empty; there were few cars on the road at this time of night, although two long, dark limos with tinted windows passed by, gliding silently, the sound of their engines muffled by the falling snow.
Vampires hunting. Ulean's thoughts were filled with distaste.
I gave an imperceptible nod and set a foot into the road. Immediately I sensed the men behind me speed up. I was two yards across the street before I broke into a run. The sound of footsteps told me they had done the same.
Crap. I still didn't know who they were or what they wanted, but it was obvious they didn't like me and I wasn't going to stick around to find out why.
I made a break for it, Ulean whipping along behind me, pushing me forward. With a shout, my followers picked up the pace as their boots drummed a tattoo of running steps. On the other side of the road, I assessed my best option.
No way in hell could I go up to my room--they could easily break through the flimsy lock. Favonis was my best bet. I'd rigged her with an automatic key and kept my keychain hooked on my belt loop just for situations like this. I'd spent my life ditching danger of one sort or another with my mother and had learned a thing or two along the way.
I tossed the bag of food to the side and fumbled for my key, but even as I hit the shadows surrounding my car, a noise cut through the night behind me--a sharp scream, choked off before it barely began. I whirled, only to see Snarly Dude turning tail to race back across the street into the light. He slipped once on a spot of black ice, righted himself, then disappeared into a truck and squealed out of the parking lot.
As I squinted, trying to figure out what the hell had happened, another sound echoed in the parking lot--a sickly gurgle--and the scent of blood washed over me. As I backed toward my car, another shift in energy cut through the night and whatever the hidden force was vanished.
Gone . . . and so is the man who cried out.
Crap. Gone? Where the fuck could he have gone? He'd been right behind me. I slowly edged my way toward the shadow that had engulfed him. The scent of blood hung thick but when I shone my pen flashlight on the ground, I could see only a few drops scattered red against the snow. I looked right and left--there was no place he could have disappeared to, but the man had definitely pulled a disappearing act. Not voluntarily, though.
I scanned the other side of the street. Nothing.
What the fuck is going on, Ulean?
I don't know, Cicely, but that's what we're here to find out.
What was the thing that took him? Vampire?
A pause, then, No . . . not vampire. Do not be so quick to blame the Vein Lords. This . . . is much darker than vampire signature. Dangerous, feral . . . hungry in a way the vampires cannot even begin to match.
Cripes. Vamps were at the top of the food chain--predators, often without mercy. If this was worse than they were . . . I didn't want to know what it was.
Without another word, I sucked in a deep breath, retrieved my dinner, and headed up the stairs toward my room. New Forest had changed all right, and I had the feeling I was just skirting the tip of the iceberg.
Chapter 2
The next morning I stared up at the rambling three-story house that had been my only home for the first six years of my life, and sucked in a deep breath, shivering in the twenty-two-degree morning.
I couldn't wait to see Aunt Heather and my cousin Rhiannon again. They were the only family I had, and they were good people. I knocked on the door and Rhiannon answered.
It had been nine years since I'd seen her, but my cousin looked the same--just a little older. Tall, willowy, with flaming red hair just like Aunt Heather's. But one look at her face told me something was wrong. Her eyes were red and puffy, and she looked like her head hadn't touched a pillow for a while.
"What's going on?"
She shook her head. "Heather disappeared."
Fuck. I was too late. "But I just talked to her a few days ago."
I leaned against one of the columns of the front porch as Rhiannon came out to join me. She was wrapped in an oversized fuzzy robe, and she stood, staring across the lawn at the wood, her eyes flickering like two amber cabochons.
"I came home from work yesterday and she was gone. Vanished. Like she'd never been here."
I winced. Heather had been more mother to me than my own mother.
"Did you call the cops?"
"For all the good it did. They won't file missing person reports for forty-eight hours, and they tried to convince me that she went on a trip and forgot to tell me." Rhiannon pressed her lips together so hard they turned white. "Heather left her purse and her keys in the house. Her car's in the driveway. She's out there, Cicely." She nodded toward the forest. "I know it."
I crossed my arms, shivering as I surveyed the ravine buttressing the edge of the vast lawn. Veil House--my aunt's home--was situated on a triple-sized lot at the end of Vyne Street, a half-empty cul-de-sac. The lawn bordered a thicket of trees, which rode the ravine down one side and up the other. A copse blended into a wooded glade. The wood was thick with firs and cedars, but a pall hung over the area like invisible smog and the air felt dusty, like in an abandoned house that had been closed off for too long.
A gust of wind slashed through me and I thought I heard a snarl.
Someone isn't happy you're back. Ulean whisked the air around me, stirring it up into a cloak that wrapped around my shoulders. You are in danger.
From what?
I don't know. The energy is hard to read, but this is the same sort of creature we sensed last night in the parking lot. It's deadly and it's powerful, and it's watching you.
Fuck, I thought as I pulled my leather jacket tighter. Danger, I could handle, if I knew what the danger was. Another gust came whipping by, sending a swirling haze of snowflakes up on the porch. Too cold--it was too cold even for December here. New Forest got snow, but not a lot and it never stayed long.
"I know it's cold out here, but is there any chance you can pick up on where she might be?" Rhiannon leaned against the opposite beam. "You were always a powerful witch, even when we were small. Can you read the wind for me?"
"Not really so powerful," I said, thinking about how much had slid by the wayside while I was on the road with Krystal. "But I'll try." I closed my eyes, focusing on the sharp-edged breeze that whistled past. Sometimes it was Ulean who spoke to me. Other times it was the wind itself.
Flutterings rode the breeze, scattered whispers and thoughts, the usual stuff. But behind the gusts and sudden drafts crept a shadow that made me uneasy. Some shadows are comforting and protective. Others steal the light. And this one sucked the warmth and life right out of the day.
I reached further, seeking Heather's energy--latching on to what I best remembered about her: the lavender and cinnamon scents that clung to her skin and clothing. As my energy stretched thin, seeking any clue, a whisper raced past. "They have her. They have her." And then it was gone again.
Rhiannon was right--something had snatched my aunt. And whatever it was, it was big and it was bad and it was out there, in the forest.
I opened my eyes and yawned, shaking off the sudden surge of energy.
"Let's get inside."
When we entered the house, the warmth hit me like a blast from a furnace and I peeled off my jacket and walked into the living room I remembered so well, drawing back the curtain to gaze out the window by my aunt's desk. The forest was a wonderland, covered in white, looking pristine and beautiful, but there was something dark there now, a shadow that hid under the sparkling cloak of snow.
"I only know that she's been abducted. Somebody has her, but I don't know who." I didn't want to ask the next question, but I had to. "Have you seen Grieve? He might know what's going on."
Just speaking his name made my heart ache. I missed him. But the last time I came home--nine years ago--he'd asked me to stay. I couldn't, and he turned distant and aloof. I'd left without saying good-bye.
Rhiannon wrapped her arm around my shoulder, pressing her cheek to mine. "No, he hasn't shown himself since you last went away."
That figured. I had the feeling he wouldn't, either, until I apologized. And even then, I might have blown my chance forever. Another fear I'd been running away from since my mother died. But now . . . my wolf whimpered and I gently rubbed my hand across my stomach, feeling the tattoo stir with worry. Grieve was out there, and he knew I was home.
"I have to go look for him. He might be able to help us."
"Are you sure? Maybe he doesn't want to be found, considering you turned him down."
"Maybe," I said. "But I have to try."
Rhiannon yawned, looking more exhausted than I felt. "I'm so tired. I haven't slept a wink since night before last. When I realized Heather was gone and not just out on an errand somewhere . . ." Her voice softened and she looked near tears. Rhiannon called her mother by her first name, as did I. It seemed to run in the family.
"I didn't sleep so well myself. I had a little adventure out near the diner. Not one I care to repeat." As we headed into the kitchen and she poured me a cup of tea, I told her about my experience at the motel.
We settled in at the big oak table and Rhiannon let out a long sigh. "I think the men who followed you might have been from the Lupa Clan. Remember, lycanthropes have a strong dislike and distrust of the magic-born and they've been on edge lately. The whole town has. And whatever that thing in the shadows was . . . I don't know. All I know is that nobody hangs out after dark anymore except the vamps."
"What the hell is happening, Rhia?"
"It's all over town. The kids at the school feel it. I can tell--I watch them. They hurry to their classes, as if they don't want to be outside too long."
Rhiannon worked at the New Forest Conservatory, one of several academies across the country for the gifted. And by gifted, I mean advanced students with supernatural talents, who aren't entirely human. Mostly the magic-born. Some vampires, a few Fae. The Weres usually kept to themselves.
I stared at my cup. "This is a nice friendly street, with nice friendly neighbors. Everything looked so normal as I drove across town today."
Rhiannon bit her lip as if she was trying to decide how much to say. "Be cautious, Cicely. You actually use your powers, unlike me. I think whatever this thing is, it eats magic, like food. People have gone missing, people have died. I don't know if Heather told you on the phone, but a number of members of the Thirteen Moons Society have vanished or turned up dead."
I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. The faint taste of leather and sweat and passion. And something behind it. Magic rode the currents. Shadow magic, spider magic, blood magic. The taste of sweet poison and wine. The energy swept over me like a web, muting my ability to sense my touchstone. Whatever this force was, it was strong. Powerful. Old.
Dizzy, I glanced at her. "Did Marta say anything about what's going on? And by the way, I'll need to talk to her lawyer, if Heather was right and I inherited her business."
"Oh, you are her beneficiary, all right. I'll give you his name and you can talk to him tomorrow." Rhiannon shrugged. "The past six months, Marta closed down. She kept to herself a lot, and now she's dead. In the past three months, five members of the Society vanished without a trace, and three others are dead."
"Fucking A. That leaves . . ."
"Four. There are only four left of the local group. Rupert and Tyne. LeAnn, and Heather. And now Heather's gone. And it's not just the magic-born, but townsfolk. Marta mentioned a few weeks ago that she was getting a lot of business for protection charms and amulets. People are afraid."
She was whispering, but that wouldn't stop prying ears. There were always creatures listening. The wind carried secrets. I could hear them.
"Whatever attacked me, whatever's behind the shift in this town, it's hiding in the ravine out there. And the woods beyond." I frowned, thinking. "When was the last time you went into the forest? Or Heather, that you know of?"
She thought for a moment, then said, "At least a couple of years for me. As far as my mother . . . I don't know. She does a lot of wildcrafting in the forest. I doubt if it's been more than a few months. The energy was slow to show itself at first, like a storm gathering offshore. Nobody thought it would stick around. I guess we didn't take it seriously. And then, one day a few months ago, we woke up and the town was engulfed in a shadow. Shortly after that, the Society started to fall apart. People began to vanish."
"Heather said Marta's throat had been ripped apart, she'd been drained of blood. But your mother also said she didn't think it was the vamps that did it. What about you? What do you think? I know the bloodsuckers aren't to blame for everything, but when trouble comes home to roost in a supernatural way, nine times out of ten vampires are involved."