Harvest Hunting (19 page)

“Nerissa, I need to ask you something.”

“What?” She let out a soft sigh and leaned against the glass, one knee bent with her foot against the wall.

“Does the Rainier Puma Pride blame me for Zach’s condition? Does . . . does
Zach
blame me?” I had to know.

Nerissa let out a low whistle. “I’ve been waiting for this question, wondering when you’d finally break down and ask.” She turned to me and, hands on my shoulders, gave me a little shake. “Girl, anything that happened to Zach was the fault of that fucking Karvanak. Don’t blame yourself. I don’t. Zach doesn’t. He just . . . he needs time alone to heal, to adjust to his new way of life.”

I frowned, thoughts cartwheeling through my head. Chase needed time to adjust to living a thousand years beyond what he’d ever expected. Zachary needed time to adjust to living in a body that no longer worked the way it had. And for Camille and me, we were being forced to adjust, to make our transitions now, her with the Dark Fae Queen and the Moon Mother, and me with Greta and the Autumn Lord. A whirlwind of change, a vortex that threatened to sweep us all up in a tornado. Only we weren’t being carried to Oz, but instead, we were careening straight toward the mouth of the Sub Realms, where Shadow Wing waited for us, ready to eat our souls and the soul of the world.

“Oh!” Dizzy, I stumbled. Nerissa caught me up.

“Are you okay?”

I realized I’d forgotten to breathe and sucked in a deep lungful of air. After a moment, my shoulders relaxed, and I shook my head. “Just . . . my thoughts were whirling so fast that the room started to spin. I’ll be fine. Really.”

And I meant it. I’d be fine—I couldn’t walk Chase’s path for him, nor Zachary’s. I couldn’t help Camille shoulder her burden any more than she could take over mine. The only thing I could do was face my own life, my own fate. Without warning, a weight fell away from my shoulders, and I began to breathe easier as I realized how much guilt I’d been shouldering for things over which I had no control.

“You sure you’re okay?” Nerissa looked around. “We could go sit down for a moment if you need to.”

Shaking my head, I let out a long breath. “Really, I’m fine. Or at least, I will be.” As I saw Yugi bustling over, I added, “Say, you never did answer me. Does the Pride blame me?”

Her gaze flickered away from me, and she stared at the wall. “The Rainier Puma Pride doesn’t blame you, no. But they blame Zach.”

At that point, Yugi arrived.

He cleared his throat and handed me a piece of paper. “Here you go, Delilah. The information you needed.” He glanced at Chase’s office, then back at me and scuffed his foot on the floor. “I hope I’m not speaking out of place but . . . he misses you. I know he does. Whatever happened, it wasn’t easy on him.”

I patted the man’s shoulder. “Yugi, I didn’t send Chase away.
He
broke up with
me
. But we’re still friends.”

Yugi nodded then, looking relieved. “Okay, well . . . I’d better get back to my desk then. Do you need anything else?”

I shook my head. “No . . . I think we’re done for now. Come on.” I motioned to Nerissa. “Grab Luke, and let’s head out. His truck is at our house, so let’s head home so he can get to work. When I go exploring any of these leads, I want Menolly at my back.”

As we left the building, I glanced up at the sky. Still pouring, the silver drops thundered down, filling the parking lot and turning it into a pond. I wasn’t sure what I was feeling.
Sadness. Relief. Wistfulness. Hope. Loneliness.

But in the back of my mind lay the tingle of anticipation. With all that we were facing, I felt like there was something on the horizon—something new waiting for just the right moment to appear.

And
that
was rather exciting.

By the time Luke pulled out of our driveway, the sun had just gone down. Menolly should be up I planned on enlisting her help to check out Doug and Saz’s places. I had a nasty feeling that I shouldn’t go in there alone, and I didn’t want to put Nerissa in any danger. As we’d pulled into the driveway, I was relieved to see Morio’s Subaru in the driveway. Chances were everybody was home.

Nerissa and I hustled up the walk, dodging puddles and ducking against the rain that thundered incessantly from the dark sky. We clattered up the steps and both let out audible breaths as we darted beneath the porch roof. She was also feline. Neither of us liked water all that much.

I took off my jacket and shook it before opening the door, and she followed suit. As we entered the foyer, the smell of rich beef stew hit us, thick and robust, with onions, wafting through the hall. We never cooked with garlic out of respect for Menolly, but Iris made quick work of every other root vegetable she could get her hands on.

Another scent—fresh corn bread—lingered behind the blast of beef and gravy, and my stomach rumbled, despite all the cookies and crap I’d eaten that afternoon. Pushing through to the kitchen, I saw that Iris was clearing the table, but a big stewpot still bubbled, and there was a stack of cornbread left.

Menolly descended from the ceiling and strode over to Nerissa, hovering to meet her eye to eye. Nerissa slid her arms around Menolly’s waist as their lips met, passionate and searching. The werepuma fisted a handful of Menolly’s hair and leaned her back, kissing her deeply as her hands slid around to cup Menolly’s back and butt. After a moment, with all of us transfixed on the lovers, they broke apart, eyes glazed, Menolly’s fangs ever so slightly descended.

Oh yeah, that was hot, all right. I licked my lips, wondering if it was right that I could get so turned on watching my sister kiss somebody. In fact, the thought ran through my head, maybe I should take a peek at some of Nerissa’s friends in the Rainier Puma Pride. I wasn’t averse to the thought of a woman lover. The opportunity had just never presented itself before.

Menolly snapped her fingers in my face. “Come on, Kitten. Time to eat.”

“Huh? Oh . . . yeah.” I slid into the chair and accepted a bowl of stew and a piece of bread from Rozurial, who motioned for Iris to stay seated. “Listen, we have some pretty freaky stuff to tell you.”

“Camille already told us about this morning.” Menolly leaned back in a chair, propping her feet on Vanzir’s lap. He arched his eyebrows at her with a smirk but said nothing, leaving the stiletto boots to rest on his thigh. “Wolf Briar. Fucking perverse shit. Luke okay?”

“Better than okay. Luke got himself a date,” I said, grinning. “Katrina—Nerissa’s friend from the Olympic Wolf Pack—took a fancy to him.” Between the two of us, we filled them in on what we’d found out that afternoon.

“Anybody going out to see Franco’s fiancée?” Menolly asked.

“I have an appointment with her tomorrow. But tonight, I want to check out Smith’s and Star Walker’s places. And I don’t want to go alone. Menolly, come with?”

“Fuck. I was going to spend the entire night with Nerissa.” Menolly rarely pouted, but now she was doing the full lip thing.

“’S okay,” Nerissa said, kissing her on the cheek. “I need a nap anyway, if we’re going out late, clubbing. You help Delilah, and I’ll catch a couple hours of shut-eye.” She hugged Iris, then grabbed a couple pieces of cornbread. “If you don’t mind, I’ll eat these while I’m jumping into my jammies. Is it okay if I sleep in your playroom again, Delilah?”

When she was staying here and needed to sleep, I loaned her my playroom on the third floor, where I kept everything that I needed to make my not-so-inner tabby happy.

Since Nerissa had started staying over on a regular basis, we’d fixed up a sofa bed there for her, and for Menolly when they wanted to spend the night together. Menolly wasn’t secure enough about her self-control to take Nerissa down to her lair, and nobody chided her for it. With vampires there was always the chance of slipping into the predator without realizing it, and if something during sex set Menolly off, at least this way there’d be a chance we could step in and protect Nerissa.

“No problem—go for it.” I waved her up the stairs. Turning back, I looked over at Camille, who was still snuggled in the rocking chair. She looked a little better, but damn, the Wolf Briar had really hit her hard. “You going to be okay?”

“Yeah, but I still feel like death warmed over.” She nodded. “We need to find out who’s making it and put a stop to them. It’s dangerous to far more than just werewolves. If I’d taken a bigger blast of it, I could still be paralyzed.”

Smoky growled. He was sitting by her side, and now he looked over at me. “You have my help if you want it. There is dark magic, and then there is this. And if you find out who planted the blast that hit Camille, I’ll remove them from this world.”

“I’m sure you will. Who would know about sorcery shops in town?” I leaned forward, playing with a piece of the cornbread. “Any ideas?”

“Wilbur.” Morio slowly raised his head. “Wilbur would know. Somebody care to go escort him up here? And make sure he leaves Martin at home.”

I groaned. Wilbur, our neighbor, wasn’t my favorite person in the world. A necromancer, he walked on the shady side of gray, but he’d helped us more than once, and we managed to form an uneasy truce with him after Menolly broke Martin’s neck and almost pulled his head off.

Martin was Wilbur’s ghoul. Martin was long dead but well-preserved, and looked like a ghoulish accountant and wore a suit. Wilbur and Martin had a master-servant relationship that I wasn’t entirely comfortable contemplating, because at times it seemed a little too chummy, but I wasn’t about to ask awkward questions that might tell me more than I wanted to know.

Menolly grumbled. “I suppose I’ll go. You guys always send me because you know Wilbur wants to fuck a vampire, and he keeps hoping he’ll get lucky.” She stood and stretched. “If he gets grabby, I can backhand him from here to Hel. I’ll be back in a few with the cavalry.” She excused herself and headed out the back door.

I finished my meal and carried the dishes to the sink. As I rinsed them off, there was a knock on the front door. Morio went to answer it and returned with Trenyth—the elfin assistant to Queen Asteria—in tow. Drenched from the downpour between Grandmother Coyote’s portal and our house, Trenyth barely smiled, and I knew something was up.

“Something’s wrong. Is Father okay?” I motioned for him to take a seat.

Trenyth glanced around the table. “Everyone’s here. Good. Wait—where’s your sister? Menolly?”

“She’ll be back in a few minutes. Is it Father?” Camille leaned forward in the chair, her pale face even whiter.

The emissary sighed. “He’s not hurt, so calm yourself with regards to that. But yes, the message is . . . from him.” He looked sad, and I wondered what the hell was up. Trenyth had been on the periphery of our lives since we first wiped the floor with Bad-Ass Luke and Shadow Wing’s first Degath Squad. We’d developed a friendly though professional rapport with the ancient elf. He was Queen Asteria’s right hand, and I had the feeling she’d be lost without him.

We settled him in with a cup of tea and dessert—cookies—which he politely munched on, though I had the feeling they weren’t to his liking at all.

“How’s Her Majesty doing?” I asked to make conversation.

“Queen Asteria is in good health. She’s . . .” he paused, then let out a long sigh, as if he’d been about to say something.

“What is it?” I pushed. Camille sat up, eyeing him cautiously. She glanced over at me and gave a slight shake of the head.

“Nothing. Nothing—just not all plans are going as hoped. But leave it be. I can say no more on the subject.” He took a sip of his tea and stared into the steaming cup, once again quiet.

Ten minutes passed, and the back door opened, Menolly leading Wilbur into the room. The guy looked like a front man for ZZ Top, with a streaming beard, long ratty hair pulled back in a ponytail, and shades on even though the light was long gone. He was big and burly, dressed like a mountain man, but there was a tingle about him that signaled magic. Magic and an overdose of testosterone.

“Now that you’re home, I’d like to talk to the three of you alone, please. Then I’ll be off. This will just take a few minutes.” Trenyth motioned to Smoky and the rest, including Iris. “Please, give us some privacy.” The elf’s presence was commanding enough that everyone automatically vacated the kitchen.

We waited. Obviously, this was big, or he would have talked to us in front of the others. Finally, after an uncomfortable pause, he pinched the bridge of his nose and winced.

“I hate this.” He looked up at us, a stricken expression crossing his face. “I’ve come to know and respect you girls over the past year.
I like the three of you.
Please know that. I really do. And that makes this even harder.”

Uh-oh. Any announcement starting out with
I hate this
couldn’t be good. “What’s up?” I said quietly.

He sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly, then pulled a parchment scroll out of his pocket and showed us the seal. Queen Tanaquar. Shit. But why was the elfin ambassador delivering one of the Fae Queen’s official documents?