Autumn Whispers (An Otherworld Novel) (27 page)

The news went over just about like we’d expected it to. I’d asked Yugi and a couple of the other men to join us so they could keep Chase from throwing a punch at Trenyth, but when he stalked out of the room where he’d talked to Sharah, the stark look on his face said everything. He slammed past Trenyth, into another office, rattling the walls with the force of the door.

Sharah wheeled herself out, looking pale and weary. “That didn’t go over well.” She met my gaze. “Delilah, he’s going to need you. He’s going to need all of you over the next months. He’s angry and he threatened to keep our daughter away from me forever, since I’m
not going to look after her
.” She rubbed her temples. “I told him to name her whatever he liked, that I’d love whatever he chose.”

I glanced over her head at the room. “Is he coming out?”

She shook her head. “I wouldn’t bet on it. Not till after I leave. He’s just upset. I understand—I’m upset too. But with what happened? My people need me. I knew there might be a chance this day would come, but I hoped the call wouldn’t be for me.”

She reached out for my hand, and I took it, squeezing to calm her trembling. Tears were glistening in her eyes. I leaned close.

“I’ll watch out for them. We all will. And you can always call us, we’ll find a way to get your daughter over there for a visit. I promise you this.” I lifted her hand to my lips and kissed it gently, then smoothed her hair back. She was doing everything she could to hold on; I could see it in her eyes. She was trying her damnedest to remain calm. Which was just as well because when she ascended the throne, she would have to wear a mask in public. The Queen wasn’t allowed to show fear, or doubt, or loss. She had to be strong, she had to be the anchor for the populace.

And with Sharah’s hormones . . . a thought crossed my mind, and before I thought, I blurted out a question. “What are they going to do about your milk?”

She ducked her head. “The healers can give me herbs to stop it.” But the pain when she answered made me wish I’d never brought up the subject.

“Then you won’t . . .”

“Be able to breast-feed? No. I cannot do that when I’m trying to put all the pieces back together again. My city is shattered, my homeland lies smoldering in ruins. They are taking me away from my child . . . I have lost everything, and soon, I will be alone and in charge of a nation that I never wanted to lead.” She sounded on the verge of emotional collapse, and she didn’t look all that hot, either.

I wanted to urge her to fight them, to say no and walk away, but the memory of what we’d witnessed, the utter destruction, hung heavy in my mind. I squeezed her hand tighter.

“We will be here for you. We will do everything we can to help you. And we’ll look after Chase. He’ll come around. He’s just scared and hurt right now, and afraid of losing you. I’ll make him understand. I promise.” I had no idea how I was going to fulfill that vow, but I was determined to do my best.

Sharah let go, slowly. “Thank you. I wish . . . I wish you were my sister. I wish I was part of your family.” She blushed when she said it—elves generally weren’t that expressive.

I hugged her. “You are,” I whispered. “Chase is my brother, so you are my sister. Always.”

And then, as I stood back, she motioned to Trenyth, and they wheeled her away to prepare her for traveling. She stared ahead, a numb expression on her face, but I knew her heart was torn to pieces.

I glanced at Camille, and she nodded to the room where Chase was still lurking. Without a word, I headed over and pushed through the door.

Chase looked up. His dark eyes were filled with anger and he was sitting stiffly in a chair. The room was obviously a break room for the staff, with a coffeepot and some cookies on the counter. I found a mug and poured him a stiff cup of the steaming coffee, then shoved it in front of him. Turning a chair around, I straddled it, swinging one leg over the side.

As I settled down beside him, he stared at me dourly. “What do you want? I really don’t feel like talking right now.”

“Too fucking bad. We’re going to talk. Or rather,
I’m
going to talk and
you
are going to listen.” I let the words sink in and, at his startled look, added, “The mother of your child is being carted away. She’s making the most difficult decision of her life, and you are sitting here like a whining idiot. You cannot let her go with you in this mood or so help me, Chase, I’ll slap you silly.”

He brought his fist down on the table. “What the hell am I supposed to do, then? She’s leaving me and . . . she didn’t even want to help name our daughter. She’s abandoning us—”

Aha, the core of the matter. Chase had abandonment issues, and he was projecting them onto Sharah. He’d been so terrified about not being a good enough father, and now that he was faced with raising the child alone, his fear was coming back full force.

“Like hell she is.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? She’s leaving—and our baby’s just born.”

“Get it through your head, Chase. You’ve fallen in love with someone who isn’t human. Who isn’t remotely human. On top of that, Sharah is a princess. She’s a member of royalty. And said royalty just vanished in a buttload of flame and fire and tumbling tons of stone. Sharah has to go home or her people won’t have any hope. They won’t have anyone to look up to. Every country must have a leader, and she’s the only one left, Chase.”

“But . . . her child . . . our baby . . .” Chase looked hurt, but by the sound of his voice, I could tell that he understood the circumstances. He just didn’t want to face them.

“You suck this up and you deal with it. Sharah’s hurting enough without you giving her crap. You saw what happened over there—well, you were trapped and
didn’t
see the worst of it by any means. But I was there. Camille and I saw what went down and let me tell you now, we’ll never, ever be able to get the images out of our heads. People were dying right and left, Chase. Our father is probably among the dead—we haven’t heard from him, and he was last seen with Queen Asteria. Who, by the way, is lying crushed under a thousand tons of stone and wood.”

He winced, staring at the ground, but I could see the stubborn line of his jaw and I realized he wasn’t quite ready to budge yet. Pausing, I tried to think of another way of getting him to own up to what was going on.

“Listen, if Sharah was in the ES army and had to go to combat, you’d stay home and take care of the kids, right?”

Still silent. Exasperated, I smacked him on the shoulder—not hard, but enough to get his attention.
“Right?”

Apparently, I’d dislodged the last bit of resistance.

“All right, already! Enough.” The glint in his eyes shifted and he deflated. “I get it, Delilah. I just don’t like it. But yes, I get it.” Straightening his shoulders, he looked over at me. “I didn’t totally fuck it up, did I?”

“You will if you don’t get your ass out there now and tell her good-bye and that you’ll wait for her and take good care of your daughter. Your daughter as in the child you
both
produced, and whom you will not turn against her.”

Standing, I yanked him to his feet. “Get moving, Johnson. Before I kick you in the ass again.”

He wiped his mouth, then turned toward the door. “Delilah,” he said over his shoulder, without looking back. “Thanks. Kick me in the ass any time I need it, okay?” And then, he was off and jogging down the hall.

I followed more slowly. Chase and Sharah had a long, hard road ahead of them and a lot of obstacles working to block them. But he didn’t need to know that right now. He just needed to do what was right for the moment, and deal with the consequences later.

Camille and I wandered over to the nursery—or what had been turned into a nursery for the baby. She was tiny, and delicate, with Sharah’s nose and ears, but Chase’s shock of dark hair. The nurse let me pick her up and it felt strange to hold her—she was so small. I tried to imagine having one of my own. It would happen, one day, the Autumn Lord had made that clear, but for now, I was content to leave it to the future. Too much danger surrounded us to ever think about having a child until we’d dealt with the demonic war.

I glanced over at Camille. “What about you? You still not interested in this?” I motioned toward the baby.

She laughed. “Only from a distance. I really . . . there’s
no pull
. I know Smoky wants one, but you know, even the chance of us finding a way to interbreed is remote. And having a child because somebody else wants you to, when you’re not ready? Beyond stupid. I’m not mother material. I mothered you and Menolly most of my childhood. I’m done with that. Now it’s
my
turn. I’d make one hell of an auntie though.”

With that, I brushed a kiss across baby Johnson’s forehead and handed her back to the nurse. We returned to the nursing station just in time to see Chase leaning over Sharah to kiss her. She caught my eye as he hugged her, and smiled. It was a rough, wan smile, but it was a smile. And then they wheeled her away, and Sharah was gone.

I glanced at Camille. “I guess . . . we’d better get a move on.”

“First, you get your hand looked at.” She pushed me toward where Mallen was standing, looking over a chart.

He rebandaged my hand. “It’s healing well. Keep it clean, and keep using the salve. Replace the dressing twice a day. You’ll have a scar, definitely, but you’ll live.”

And with that, we headed out. We had work to do, and I had a feeling we’d have a lot more work as the days went along.

• • •

In the car, as Camille drove, we made a list of what we needed to do. Take care of the dreglins, hunt down Violet, deal with the Farantino mess—whatever that was. And overshadowing everything was the specter of losing our father and the threat of the Keraastar Knights being captured.

“We need some good news soon.” I tapped my notebook.

“I think we may have gotten our little bit of it in that Iris and Sharah had their babies safely.” Camille pulled over to the curb, parking. She pointed to the Supe-Urban Café, which Marion Vespa, a coyote shifter and friend of ours, had just rebuilt after arsonists destroyed her restaurant and her house. “Let’s grab breakfast and talk.”

Marion saw us the minute we entered. She and her husband had stayed with us after the fire, and we had a long history before that. We considered them extended family.

“What will you have? Just coffee today?” Marion was unusually chipper, but then again, the gaunt, lanky woman wasn’t very taciturn to begin with. You wouldn’t want to fuck with her, but, overall, she was a good-natured person.

“Breakfast, actually. I know it’s lunchtime, but we haven’t eaten yet.” Camille glanced at the menu, but we always knew what we wanted when we stopped in at Marion’s. A brilliant cook, she made the best biscuits and cinnamon rolls around. “I want one of your big biscuits, a side of sausage, and a cheese omelet. Also, yes, coffee—a triple iced latte, please.”

I didn’t even need to look at the menu. “I’ll have a cinnamon roll, scrambled eggs, bacon, and a big glass of milk. Also some rose blossom tea.” Marion served a delicate herbal tea consisting of rose blossoms, cherry, and some other herbs that she wouldn’t disclose from her secret recipe. It was fragrant and fruity and soothing, all at the same time.

Marion gave us a sharp look. “What’s wrong? I know those faces, and they are not happy faces.”

I glanced at Camille, who shrugged. “There’s been trouble at home—back in Otherworld. We’re kind of trying to keep it quiet for now, because . . . well, because it’s just a good idea, but the Elfin lands? They’ve been decimated. And we were there to see it happen.” I must have looked bleak because Marion stuck her order pad and pen in her pocket and pulled up a chair.

“I’d say that sucks but that’s the understatement of the year.” She frowned. “Hey, aren’t you guys investigating the disappearance of a Fae girl?”

“How did that news get out?” It seemed that none of our secrets were safe anymore.

“Tad told me. Don’t look so surprised. He comes here to pick up goodies for his coworkers. Just because he can’t eat Danishes doesn’t mean that his buddies at work can’t. When he was here yesterday, he asked if I’d seen a coworker of his—she comes here a lot. I said no, Violet hasn’t been in lately. Then he told me she hasn’t been seen around for a while, and that you are investigating for him.”

Tad needed to learn how to keep his mouth shut, I thought. But then again, he was worried and just trying to help. And the fact that Violet came here regularly and hadn’t been around for a few days helped confirm that she just seemed to have vanished.