Harvest Hunting (15 page)

“No she wouldn’t. Not our Maggie! She adores you when you’re in cat form and would spend all day playing with you if we let her.” Camille folded her arms, looking crushed.

“Maybe we can figure something out,” I said. “Confine them to your rooms till they grow up or something like that. We’ll talk later.” Feeling, for once, the older sister, I patted her arm. “I know how much you love cats, and I promise, I’ll spend more time in my cat form for you until we figure out what to do.”

“Sorry about all that—an ongoing struggle in our household.” Camille let out a sigh, then turned to Carter and told him about the goblins and the Tregarts. “So now we have a rumor about Stacia running a training camp for demons. Have you heard anything?”

Carter nodded. “Vaguely, but nothing I can confirm yet. I’ll assign someone to look into it, and the minute we find out anything, I’ll let you know. At least you’ve verified that she entered through a Demon Gate. Do you think the Tregart was lying or withheld anything?”

“No.” Camille sighed. “There’s no question that Menolly, Vanzir, and Roz got every shred of info out of the Tregart they could. If he was part of it, they’d know. Between the three, they have some pretty nasty . . . tactics.”

She paused, and we looked at one another. Neither one of us was willing to use the word
torture
, though I knew it weighed heavily on both our minds, especially after the talk with Mallen and Sharah about the Wolf Briar.

Carter’s eyes took on a luminous hue. He smiled softly.

“Sometimes, what has to be done in a war is regrettable. I have seen this more times than I care to recount.” He paused, then added, “I never told you why I left the Subterranean Realms, have I?” Dipping his head, his horns flashed in the soft glow of the light.

“No,” I said. Camille shook her head. “We never felt it our place to pry, but if you want to tell us, we’d like to hear.”

Carter leaned back in his chair, pressing his fingertips together as he regarded us soberly. “I am one of the sons of Hyperion—a Greek Titan who watches over the sun and the stars. He mated with a demoness, and she bore a litter of thirteen of us. We lived with my father for a time, then my mother summoned us to the land of Hades within the Subterranean Realms, and Father sent us to her. She sought to use our paternity to her own advantage. All it bought her was a swift and ugly death.”

I stared at him. Carter was the son of a Titan and had twelve brothers and sisters? The Titans predated the Greek gods—in fact, they were responsible for the rise of the gods and had warred with them greatly over the years. We were in the presence of a deity, for all intents and purposes. I didn’t know whether to kneel or bow, so I settled for neither.

“After my mother was killed, I led my brothers and sisters back to Hyperion. He took us in, taught us the art of observation. We learned to watch, to listen, to be patient. Then he sent us to enter the realm of mortals in order to record the interactions of the Demonkin with the human world. The gods, in rare form, agreed with the Titans that this would be a worthy pursuit and set Athena and Mercury to guide us. We formed a network and began training others to be our eyes and ears in various parts of the world, and they report only to us.”

“Who are those you train? Are there many? Are they all demon?”

He shook his head. “We run a far bigger network than you would think. Some are part-demon like myself, others Fae. Still others are races you can barely begin to comprehend. We stay hidden unless we feel it necessary to reveal ourselves. I think it’s time you girls know about us. You’re fighting a war that could easily turn a page in human history, and it directly involves the Demonkin. The Demonica Vacana Society is keenly interested in what will happen in this Earthside battle.”

Carter’s cards were finally on the table. I wasn’t sure just what to say. But it explained a great deal and made me feel better about interacting with him.

“What do you want from us?” Camille asked.

He shrugged. “Your friendship. Your stories. I want you to tell me what happens so that I can record it for the future. I am a historian, you see, when it comes down to it. While I’m not pledged to refrain from interfering, my main focus is on recording and sealing the information within the Vacana Archives, deep within the Demonica Catacombs that exist in a cavern on one of the uninhabited islands of the Cyclades.”

“Cyclades?” My fingers were itching to get a look at those catacombs and the records stored within.

“A large group of Greek islands in the Aegean Sea.”

“Why do you help us?” I asked, wondering why he would even care. If his job was to record and keep track of what was happening, would our fate really matter to him?

He smiled then, softly again, and leaned forward. “My dear girl, I care more than you can possibly think. Like the children of my father—the ancient Greeks—I love all things beautiful and wise. I bequeathed my life over to order, to making sense of the present and keeping track of the past so the future may learn. I also know a father’s love for his daughter. My feelings for Kim alone fuel me with the desire to keep this world running, as faulty as it is, without interference from my mother’s people.”

His face lit up, and the look in his eyes made me smile. He cared. He really gave a damn.

“What do you recommend we do, as far as Stacia’s training camp?”

Carter shook his head. “I concur with you, Delilah. Don’t seek it out at this time. Not unless you want them to take notice of you. My advice? Locate the next spirit seal.” He glanced at his watch. “I hate to rush this, but I have a new client coming in twenty minutes, and I need to prepare for him.”

We stood, and he ushered us out. Once we were back in my Jeep, Camille and I sat there, overwhelmed by what he’d told us.

“So.” I finally broke the ice. “Carter’s older than the gods.”

“Not necessarily, but he’s sort of a cousin of the gods,” Camille said. “Can you imagine the wealth of information he has within his grasp?”

“I’d pay one hell of a price to categorize and log it on my database. We need to preserve this sort of information for the future, too.” I could devote a lifetime to studying data and organizing it, but I had the feeling Carter wasn’t going to be taking me along with him next time he visited the catacombs.

“What next?”

“Home,” I said firmly. “I let you have this visit, but you’re going home, and you’re going to rest. Besides, we need to scour the city for magical shops, and I can best do that over the phone and the Internet. And you wanted to track down Rice in Arizona to see if he’s still there.”

“Right.” She fished through her purse and pulled out her cell phone. “I’m going to ask Luke to meet us at the house. Menolly will understand.” She hit speed dial and after a moment, said, “Chrysandra, is Luke there? Can you put him on?”

As I put the Jeep in gear and we headed toward the freeway, Camille talked Luke into meeting us at the house. Then she called Iris to let her know we’d be there in a few and would she have a good lunch ready. But my mind wasn’t on lunch or on the road. It was back in that basement apartment, mulling over the bombshell Carter had dropped on us. I had a million questions for him, but they’d have to wait.

When we pulled into the driveway, I noticed right away there was a strange car there. A four-door Volvo . . . it looked familiar, and yet it didn’t. As I hustled Camille up the stairs, helping her as she leaned against the railing, the sound of arguing came blaring from inside.

“What the hell?” I opened the door to a blast of shouting from the living room. Iris hurried over, and I pushed Camille toward her. “Get Camille settled and comfy somewhere, please, and don’t let her get out of her chair except to go to the bathroom, please. What the hell’s going on in there? Who’s yelling?”

Iris looked flustered. “I was about to break it up. Nerissa’s going at it with . . .” She paused, staring at the wall beside me.

“You don’t want to make eye contact. All right, who is it? Tell me before I go in and find out myself. Forewarned is fore-armed.” I wasn’t in any mood for shouting fests, arguments, or whining.

“Andy Gambit.” Iris blinked.

“Gambit?
Gambit?
That little weasel is here?” Camille struggled to push past us toward the living room, but I barred the way.

“I’ll take care of this.
You
—go sit in the rocking chair in the kitchen. Iris, please fix her some tea and strap her down if you have to. Then join me. I’ll take care of whatever the heck is going on in there.”

Without another word, I strode into the living room. Andy Gambit stood there, and I stared at his back for a moment. Yellow journalist extraordinaire, purveyor of sleaze, slander, and innuendo, he was an unassuming little prick, making up for his lack of personality with full-scale assault on anybody belonging to the Supe Community.

My guess is that we’d replaced the blacks, Hispanics, and Asians as his targets. He was also pushing Taggart Jones, a wing nut extremist going head-to-head with Nerissa for the council seat. Jones wanted to revoke all rights that had been extended to the Supe Community and the Fae, and—in his own words—“Drive them freaks right back where they belong. Under a rock.”

And if Gambit was arguing with Nerissa, that could only mean . . .

“You fucking freaky cunt,” Gambit said as I entered the room, his attention focused on Nerissa. “I knew I’d catch you up. Not only are you one of those damned Weres, you’re also a lesbian and into necrophilia.
Corpse slut.
So, you the D’Artigo freak’s blood whore? You might as well admit it—”

I grabbed him by the shoulder and whirled him around. Sputtering, he fell back a couple of steps. Towering over him, I leaned down to stare him in the eyes.

“How
dare
you come into our home and assault one of our guests! You looking for trouble? I hope so, because, dude, you found it. You have ten seconds to hit the door before I use you as a battering ram. Get out before I call the cops and have you arrested for trespassing.”

He had more balls than I gave him credit for. Before I realized what he was doing, he spit in my face. “Bitch. Freaks—all of you are freaks. You drive men wild and then use them to take over our society! I’ll show you just who runs this society—men do.
Earthborn men!
”

Bingo. I glanced at his pants. The man’s hard-on was flashing like a tent pole on opening day at the circus. Gambit wanted us, and he was afraid of his desire. I wiped my face and noticed that Nerissa had backed up, her eyes flashing. She wanted to shift, and so did I—into my panther self. And if that happened, we’d both end up ripping out his throat.

I decided to take the lesser of two evils route, and without another word, I dropped him like a used Kleenex. Smacked him dead on center in the nose. He went down, and I couldn’t help myself; I added a nice little kick to the groin.

“Delilah—” Nerissa looked like she was barely keeping it together.

“Go get Iris. And hand me the phone.”

She obeyed, and I punched in Chase’s number. He must have been at his desk, because he answered on the first ring. “Johnson here.”

“Chase, gotta problem lying here in my living room.”

“Uh-oh,” his voice wavered. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”

“Probably not. I just KO’d Andy Gambit. I want a restraining order forbidding him to come on our property—hold on,” I said over his groans. Iris had just entered the room.

“Iris,” I said, covering the phone. “Did you invite Andy in? Did Nerissa?”

She shook her head. “Are you insane? I’d no more let that ninny in than I would the Bonecrusher. The door was unlocked, and he entered the house without asking just moments before you got home. I was about to evict him when you and Camille came through the door.”

“Thanks. Would you make sure he doesn’t go anywhere? I’m on the phone to the cops.” I uncovered the receiver. “Chase, I also want to charge him with breaking and entering—or trespassing. Whatever you call it when someone enters your home without asking. He barged in, uninvited, and picked a fight with Nerissa.”

“I’ll have one of the men out there on the double. Meanwhile, you do realize he can quite possibly file charges against you? Did he make any threats at all? Anything you can use to say you feared for your safety?” The sound of his voice told me that he knew I hadn’t been afraid.

But . . . maybe . . . “Yeah, well, he called me a bitch, a freak, and told me that he’d show me just who ran this society—earthborn men. I consider that a threat.” I licked my lips. “He had a hard-on you couldn’t miss . . .”

Chase let out a strangled cough. “Wonderful. Such a lovely example of the male gender. Makes me proud to be a man and all that rot. Okay, we’ll see if we can pound it through his head that he’ll come out worse for wear if he tries to take you to court. Tell me everything again. And don’t leave anything out.”