Harvest Hunting (33 page)

With every fiber of my being, I knew that if I put this on, Shade would become a part of my life. Memories of Camille talking about Trillian and how they met flashed by, and for the first time, I understood. I understood the connection they shared and would never again question it.

I looked up to find Iris staring at me, a peculiar look on her face.

“What’s going on, Delilah? Where did you get that?”

“Why? Can’t it just be a ring?”

She shook her head. “Not with the energy rolling off that band. I recognize that energy. I’ve felt it before.”

I slowly held it up to the light. It sparkled. A ring of promise. A ring of binding. A ring of acceptance and submission to my destiny. A ring of empowerment by
accepting
my destiny. Once I put this on, there was no going back. The only question was: Did I want to know what Iris knew
before or after
I put on the ring? If I hesitated, was I still resisting the inevitable?

Sometimes, I thought, you just have to submit to your life . . . go with the flow, take a chance, leap before you look. In tabby form, I was a free spirit. I bounced and played my way through the day without worrying what waited ahead. In panther form, I did what came naturally—I bounded ahead, fearless.

At what point had I lost that fearlessness in my life as a woman, half-Fae or not? When had I become afraid? Or had I ever been without the fear and doubt? What made me so hesitant in two-legged form when I could let go and just be who I wanted to be as a cat—big or small? When had I first begun to put everyone else’s opinions ahead of my own intuition?

I’d learned to break through my inner darkness in that room with Shade, and I’d tasted the passion in a way I could only dream of. Now, was I ready to take a chance? To stride ahead and be the woman I knew I could be?

I looked up at Iris, thinking all of these things, as I slowly slid the ring on the fourth finger of my right hand. No booming chimes or trilling harps sounded, but I’d just signed the pact. I’d jumped at the chance, taken the leap, and nothing would ever be the same.

Iris sat on the edge of my bed. “Oh girl, what have you done? I felt the shift in your aura as plainly as I see it when you change shape. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“I do,” I said, laughing. “I do. But tell me now—now that I’ve followed my gut. What sort of creature owns this ring?”

“Come down as soon as you’ve dressed. Supper is ready, and the rest are waiting.” She stopped at the door, peeking back over her shoulder. “My dear, I’m not sure how or where you met him, but you’ve just accepted a ring from someone who has part shadow dragon in his lineage—black dragon. And I expect he’ll be showing up here soon enough to claim what is now his. Which . . . in case you had any doubt . . . is
you
.”

 

 

Shadow dragon.
The words resonated through me like fire. Yes—that would fit. It fit Shade’s energy, his name, and the fact that he served Hi’ran. If Iris was right and he was only part dragon, though, then what about the rest of his background? I resolutely pushed doubt away.

The thought that perhaps shadow dragons and white/silver dragons might not coexist well in the same group also crossed my mind, but again—we would find a way. We had to. And if Shade were half as attentive and helpful as Smoky, we’d have another ally on our hands.

I tossed my nightgown in the laundry hamper and pulled on my boots, taking the stairs two at a time. As I hustled into the kitchen, I saw that Iris wasn’t kidding—everybody was gathered around the table, including our cousin Shamas, who was dressed for the night shift.

“Sorry I took so long,” I said.

Camille stared at me. “What the fuck? What did you do in the past three hours? Delilah, your aura has totally shifted—it’s . . . flaming brilliant.”

“And where is the other dragon?” Smoky asked, jumping up and looking around. “I can smell him from here.”

I could see this wasn’t going to be just my little secret. I glanced at Iris, but she shrugged and mouthed,
I didn’t tell them,
so apparently Camille was right, and my aura was playing kaleidoscope. I took a deep breath and held up my hand.

“Yeah, I’ve got something to tell you. I was going to do so in my own time, but apparently you can sense what’s happened. It’s complicated, and so much went down while I was out on the astral. I went on a journey while I was asleep, and . . . oh hell, just shut up and listen.”

As I spilled out everything that had happened from the time Greta had walked beside me through the city streets to waking up with Shade’s ring, the room grew increasingly silent until by the time I finished, a pin dropping would have produced a minor earthquake.

Menolly glanced around. “What are you all staring at her for? We knew something like this was going to happen sooner or later. The Autumn Lord wasn’t just going to let her continue going on her merry way without eventually stepping in. I think we should just be grateful that he didn’t decide to kill her so she could join them in—what did you say the name of the place was?” Her tone demanded an answer.

“Haseofon.” I whispered, giving her a faint smile.

“That’s right—in Haseofon. And by the way, if there’s any way we could meet our sister face-to-face, it would be nice if you could arrange that.” She hovered her way up to the ceiling, where she liked to hang out, and cleared her throat as if to put a lid on the conversation.

Camille spoke more slowly, and I could tell she was weighing every word. “Are you comfortable with what happened?”

I considered the question. Was I comfortable? A week ago, I might have said no. A month ago, a year ago, I would have freaked. But now . . . the answer was there in the forefront.

“Yes, I am. I’m . . . content. I feel more settled than—well, than I ever have. Maybe this was my destiny all along. Maybe I was chosen from birth to become a Death Maiden—that would actually make me proud. I’ve found my peace with what . . . who . . . I am. Arial was taken to Haseofon when she was a cub, right after her death—so it’s not like my connection to the place is totally new.”

Smoky let out a loud cough. “May I see your ring?”

I reluctantly tried to take it off my finger, but it wouldn’t come. It wasn’t too tight, but it wasn’t going to budge, either. Rather than say anything, I just held out my hand to him. He glanced into my face, and by the look in his eyes, I could see he knew what had just happened, but he kept silent. Instead, he just took my hand and passed his fingers above the stone.

“Shadow dragon—but not totally. There is another energy mix in this stone, but I sense no evil. Your Shade is not fully dragon. Probably half.” He let go of my fingers and sat back. “He and I should be able to coexist if he keeps his focus where it ought to be.”

“I know dragons are territorial, but will it really strain you to be in each other’s presence?” I stopped. It felt so weird to be talking about this. But in the core of my gut, I
knew
this was only the beginning.

“We’ll give it a try. And if things get dicey, we can sort it out then. He sounds reasonable. And I know what it’s like to fall for a dragon you barely know.” Camille cleared her throat and glanced at Smoky. “I’m the last person who’s going to chastise you. Hell, I fell in love so quickly with all three of these louts that my head was spinning. It happens, and when you’re
meant
to be together, you know it from the beginning. I’d love to ask you more about Arial and Shade, but we need to get down to business here.”

She motioned to my laptop. “Let’s see what the pictures have to tell us.”

I could tell the guys were dying to ask questions, but with Menolly and Camille at my back, they’d have to leave me alone for now. I smoothly slid into position at the computer and flipped the switch. The first picture Morio had taken came up on the wall screen. He grabbed one of the barbecue skewers to use as a pointer, forgoing the mouse that I offered him.

“Thanks, but I’ll do it the old-fashioned way.”

We were looking at a house that could have been any other suburban ranch house—huge rambler that stretched across a third of the lot. Two stone walls formed the fence, but it wasn’t gated. The house looked reasonably clean, the yard was tended, but there was something I couldn’t put my finger on that bothered me.

“Do you realize that the picture was taken in broad daylight, but the curtains are tightly closed? Look at that—not a crack in them. Seems odd, especially since the house has quite a bit of privacy.” Iris wandered over to the picture and cocked her head. “Windows are barred if you look closely.”

Morio nodded. “Yeah, I noticed that. I didn’t want to chance going in there in fox form, but I managed to get close enough to see the bars on the windows. And you’re right—I’m almost certain someone was back there, watching out. I doubt if they noticed us. The house is across from a corner store—one of those old mom-and-pop type outfits. We parked there, and I slipped around with the camera while Vanzir and Roz made pointed entrances and exits from the store.” He motioned for me to click to the next image.

Morio had been hiding in a thicket, with ivy fronds and ferns thrusting their way into the picture. We could see a side yard to the right of the house. A gate cordoned off the front yard from the back, and enough of the backyard showed to indicate several sheds back there, as well as a dog kennel. What looked like a very large Rottweiler was chained next to the kennel.

“Friendly or dangerous?” Rottweilers could be either—depending on their owners. Actually, I thought, most dogs were like that. While some breeds had a predisposition to aggressive behavior, it was all in the breeding and training whether a dog ended up a lover or a fighter.

“Oh, I can tell you right now, that dog is not a playmate. He could sense me, I think, and barked the whole time. I got as close as I dared, but if I moved forward any farther, I would have been in their yard instead of the neighbor’s. By the way, the neighboring house is for sale, there’s no one there, and we can get into the backyard without too much trouble. A lot of cover until you hit the fence, which is stone covered with ivy.”

Vanzir cleared his throat. “While Morio was taking pictures around back, we were hanging out by the car. Saw a couple of lean guys come out of the house and drive off in a beat-up VW van. They looked thin but wiry and tough. Don’t underestimate them—they can probably throw some nasty punches.”

“Do you think they’d risk hiding Doug and Saz in the house? If the guys are still alive, that is? They had to store them somewhere to hype them up before they . . .” I stopped, thinking again about Paulo’s remains. “Before they murder them and rip them apart.”

“And if they’re holding Amber, could she be there, too? Yes, it’s a large rambler, but my guess is that this is where they live, not where they stash the bodies, so to speak,” Menolly said.

“Only one way to find out,” I said. “Any more pictures?”

Morio ran through three more, giving us a little more information on the layout of the neighborhood. “What it comes down to, though, is when we go in, I have no doubt somebody will be there. I’m worried that we might put Amber, Doug, and Saz’s lives in danger if we don’t do this right. Which is why we followed the van.”

“I could kiss you for that,” I said, beaming at him. “But why didn’t you say so before and save us time?”

“Every piece of the puzzle counts—every piece could be important. Better to go through this step by step than overlook some information and have somebody pay the price. And from now on, I think we need to keep that in mind. With Stacia putting out bounties on your heads, we can’t afford to be lax or stupid or lazy. Because one of these days, somebody tough enough and bad enough is going to come along and take up her offer and manage to snare one of you in a trap. We don’t want that to happen.”

He let out a long sigh. “I drove. I’ll let Roz take over as to what we found. That’s why there are still pictures to look at. We took them along the way and when we got there.”

“Got where?” Camille asked.

“To a very unlikely compound,” Rozurial said as he took the pointer from Morio. “First, these dudes are good at hiding in plain sight. They aren’t coyote for nothing, I’ll tell you that.”

The picture that flashed on the screen showed what looked like a warehouse down by the docks. Small, freestanding, but definitely a warehouse. The sign over the door read EMPORIUM MEATS, and a very realistic-looking delivery truck sat by the side.

“Oh, please tell me they aren’t really selling meat. I’d hate to think where they got it and what they put in their hamburger,” Camille said.

“Thank you
so much
for the visual, and no—they aren’t,” Roz countered. “My guess is that if you look in that truck, you’re going to find restraints and whatever else they need to transport very angry, very drugged male beta werewolves turned alpha.”

“Perfect.” I stood, staring at the image. “They really have cloaked themselves in the middle of the city. What about the warehouse?”

“Several entrances—standard front door. Big loading dock in back with doors on both sides. Morio scanned magically for traps, but we were too far away, and we couldn’t very well walk up there and ask. The parking lot in back is big enough for about twenty cars—we did some checking and found out that at one time this building did, indeed, house a slaughterhouse. So it’s got plenty of good setups inside for torture and tearing things apart.”

“Then why would Van and Jaycee need to dissect the Weres at their house, if the warehouse had everything necessary?”

“I can answer that,” Camille said. “Two reasons. One—magic. Pure and simple. Or rather, not so pure. Think of it as territory. Sorcerers—even witches and mages—all have personal magical signatures. Each of us radiates a unique footprint on the magical realm, and my guess is that the coyote energy may interfere with Van and Jaycee’s sorcery.”