Harvest Hunting (37 page)

Menolly was engaging two of them at the end of the porch, and one of them was holding a wooden stake behind his back.

“Get the fuck out of there! He’s got a stake!”

Menolly didn’t respond but instead leapt nimbly up on the railing and then over the side. The demons followed her, vaulting over the railing to meet her on the ground. Meanwhile, Smoky had dropped two Tregarts already, but three surrounded him as he fought his way down the front steps. Roz was grappling with a bloatworgle over by Camille’s herb garden.

I waded into the fray, taking a running leap to bound over the railing and land on the ground near Menolly. Before he could turn around, I ran my dagger through the back of the Tregart carrying the wooden stake. He let out a yelp. As I pulled Lysanthra out, I twisted her, and that did the trick—he dropped the stake and fell to his knees, struggling to get up. Menolly gave him a kick to the jaw, and he went over, moaning. The other demon stared at us, looking for all the world like a Hells Angel with bad hair, but beneath that leather jacket there beat the heart and the soul of Demonkin.

Camille disappeared into the house, and I wondered where she was going, but I couldn’t focus on what she was doing. There were still too many demons, too much danger standing beside me.

Smoky took one down, and then Roz finally got on top of his bloatworgle by stuffing one of his magical bombs down the creature’s throat when he opened his mouth to breathe fire. The resulting inferno caught a nearby rosebush on fire, and Smoky swung around and let out a long breath, and an icy mist settled down over the flames, calming them.

In the dark of the night, illuminated by the lights from inside the house, all was chaos. I caught my breath and turned to help Menolly with the remaining demon she was facing. Together, we managed to corner him, and she ripped at him with her fangs while I sliced him cleanly between two ribs.

There was another noise, and I turned in time to see Wilbur, racing around the house, chasing two bloatworgles who were running for their lives. Whoa. Whatever he’d done had put the fear of magic in them—rare, because bloatworgles usually didn’t scare easily—and they raced right toward us, their shouts echoing through the night. Rozurial dove out of their way as Smoky let loose with his talons and Morio engaged the other. They raged away while Menolly and I turned on the last Tregart.

I ducked in back of him, and when Menolly gave him a good kick that sent him flying toward me, I held out Lysanthra, and he landed right on the tip of her blade. His weight sent me reeling, and I landed hard on a rock in the crook of my lower back, with him on top of me. He was still, and I felt the flow of his blood spilling over me from the wound.

A moment later, all was quiet. I grunted as Menolly yanked the body off me and helped me up. As I wiped my blade in the grass and turned, I realized our front yard looked like a war zone. It was hard to count how many bodies there were in the dark, but the smell of blood, thick and metallic, rose to choke my lungs.

“Crap, that was nasty. Iris was right—we have to post guards here now. I hate this, but we can’t leave the place unprotected. Speaking of . . .” I stood up and looked around. “Where is Iris?”

“She’s not in the house,” Camille said, slowly coming onto the porch. She was holding Maggie, who rested against her shoulder. “I looked everywhere, and she’s not in there, guys.”

“Fuck—turn on all the outside lights.”

“I’ll check the studio.” Roz raced like Hel herself was on his heels, over to the studio. He adored Iris. We all did.

Trillian motioned to Morio. “Come with me, and we’ll check the wild patch of woods out back.” They hurried off.

Smoky said nothing but was away, heading toward the front perimeter of the land. I whirled and grabbed Menolly.

“Come on, let’s check the trail down to Birchwater Pond.” As we raced toward the tree line, I prayed under my breath that we’d find her. She’d be okay; everything would be fine. “She has to be,” I whispered, as I caught a glimpse of Arial, on the astral, running beside us.

“Where could she be hiding?” Menolly stopped at the trail mouth, eyeing the path. “Would she be off path, or on?”

“Off, I guess. Let’s just call her out. It’s safe to do so now.” I cupped my mouth with my hands like a megaphone and shouted, “Iris! Iris! It’s safe to come out! Where are you? Are you okay?”

“Iris!” Menolly started calling, too, heading down the path. “You go off path to the left, and I’ll head down to the pond. Iris!”

I climbed over the nearest tree trunk that was blocking the path and headed into the woods. A thought crossed my mind, and I pulled out my phone and called Vanzir’s cell we’d bought for him.

“We took them out, but it was tough. You can bring Amber back now.” I hung up as something caught my eye. Something sparkling, resting on the ground. I began to smell scorched earth amid the moss and mildew-thick forest. As I hopped over another tree trunk, then ducked under one that rested at neck height, I saw it. On the ground, a wand. Silver, with an Aqualine crystal.

Iris’s wand. And what was it doing out here, without her?

“Menolly! Get your ass over here. Now.” I knelt by the wand and ran my fingers along the scorched ground next to it. As I brought my fingers to my nose, I could smell Demonkin scent . . . bloatworgles. Had to be. Had they killed her? If so, where was her body?

“What did you find—oh fuck.” Menolly stared at the wand. “The ground’s been charred.”

“Go get Camille and tell her we need her to do a spell of finding right away. And I called Vanzir, told him to bring Amber back.” I sat on one of the deadfalls, not caring that my butt was cold and that the continual drip of the boughs was hitting me and running down my collar.

This was all turning into one big mess. How the hell were we supposed to deal with everything coming at us? Had this been retaliation for our actions against Jaycee and Van? We’d trashed their lab, trashed their shop, and put an end—at least for the present—to them producing Wolf Briar. As I sat there, staring at the wand, my phone rang. I flipped it open.

“Delilah, get back up here to the house. Carter’s here. We have another situation.” She hung up.

Carter?
He never left his basement apartment, as far as I could tell. Frowning, I grabbed Iris’s wand and headed back to the house at a dead run. Vanzir drove into the yard as I looked up. Amber was still with him, safe and sound. I motioned to him.

“Take her into the parlor and make sure she’s comfortable, then join us.”

He nodded. “Will do.”

Smoky and the guys had piled all the bodies to one side, and I skirted my way around them, then darted up the stairs and into the living room. Wilbur was just leaving, muttering about reruns on Nick at Nite, and how Martin was waiting for him.

Sure enough, Carter was sitting in the living room, his horns gleaming under the glow of the lamps. His foster daughter Kim sat next to him, but I noticed she was wearing some sort of chain around her waist and similar ones around her wrists.

Carter nodded for me to sit. We were all here—all except Iris—and I was frustrated, wanting to find her.
Now.

“I hate to interrupt, but considering what your sisters have told me,” he said, nodding to me, “it’s imperative that I do.”

“What is it?” I looked over at Kim, who sat unmoving, eyes cast down at the floor. A red mark on her cheek told me she’d been slapped and slapped hard.

“Remember how you were thinking there might be a leak in information? Someone feeding your moves to the Bonecrusher so she’d stay one step ahead of you?” His lips were tight, and I suddenly understood the chains around Kim.

“Oh, not you, Kim.” I looked at her, but she wouldn’t meet my eyes. I glanced over at Camille and Menolly. Both looked ready to kill. “Is this true?”

“It’s true,” Carter said. “I found her copying my notes, and she also had a tape—she’s been recording our conversations and taking them back to her new mistress. My foster daughter has put you into grave danger. There’s no way I can ever atone for her actions, but I can help you now.”

“But why? How? I thought Kim was . . .”

“She doesn’t have to speak to relay information. She’s highly intelligent, can read and write with ease . . . she’s mute, not mentally deficient. And apparently her mother’s blood is stronger than her father’s, because she’s chosen to walk the path of the Demonkin rather than find her own balance within society.”

Carter glared at her, and she shrank back, wincing. “I should kill you here, now, without another word. You ungrateful turncoat. You traitorous bitch. I treat you like my own daughter, and this is how you repay me.”

The look in Carter’s eyes made my stomach knot. He was furious, and I was afraid he’d make good on his threat. “We need to know what she told them. We need to know what she knows about them. Don’t hurt her. Yet.” I glanced at her, and she met my eyes then, contemptuous and sullen. “We can’t trust her to give us the proper information, so what do we do? And she can’t talk . . .”

Vanzir stood up. “You know I can get in her mind. Knock her out, and I’ll go in and find out what she knows. I can dig through her defenses, and she won’t be able to stop me.”

A dream chaser demon, Vanzir could do exactly what he said. He could feed on her life force, too, if he wanted. I looked at Menolly and Camille. They nodded. We had no choice—we had to know what Kim had told Stacia. She’d probably listened in on every conversation we’d had with Carter and every bit of information he’d called us about.

“Do it. You can find out why she’s chosen to align herself with them, too.” I stood up and walked over to Kim, who flinched away. “Menolly, can you mesmerize her like you can an FBH?”

“I’m more than willing to try.” She strode over to where Kim was sitting and yanked her to her feet, baring her fangs. “Don’t resist, or I will do it the bloody way. Got it?”

The girl nodded, now looking petrified more than angry. Menolly leaned close and whispered something in her ear, grazing Kim’s neck with her fangs, slowly slicing through the flesh to bite deep and hard. Kim gave a silent gasp, and a look of bliss washed across her face as Menolly lapped at the blood trickling out of the puncture.

After a moment, my sister pulled back. Kim was in a stupor, and Menolly said, “Sleep. Sleep until you are commanded to wake. Do not resist—open your mind, and slumber.” Her voice was so hypnotic it made
me
want to sleep, but I shook my head and caught Kim as her knees buckled. We laid her out on the sofa.

“Do you need privacy?” I asked Vanzir.

“It would probably help. I’ll let you know when I’m done. It shouldn’t be too long.” He flushed, and I remembered how much he loved to feed and how he did his best to avoid it. Life force was addictive, and Vanzir was a demon who didn’t really like himself or what he did.

As we escorted Carter into the kitchen, Menolly opted to stay and guard Vanzir, just in case anything went awry.

I placed Iris’s wand on the table. It looked forlorn, and I winced, hanging my head. “I can’t stand that she’s in danger. I can’t stand that they may have her.”

“I can’t believe that Kim is a traitor.” Camille leaned over and pulled Iris’s wand to her. “I hope we’re wrong. I hope Iris is just hiding someplace where she can’t hear us. Carter, how did Kim fool you?”

He blushed, staring at his hands on the table. “Again, my apologies. I thought Kim was happy. I thought . . .” With a shrug, the demon leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I came home today and found Kim listening to a tape. She didn’t expect me till later, and she had all sorts of documents lined up on the desk—private, confidential documents. Not only about you but about other members of the Demon Underground here . . . the demons who all hope Shadow Wing will fail. When she saw me, she tried to hide everything, but despite my brace, I’m quick, and I’m powerful. I stayed her, and once I looked through the reports, it was obvious she was spying on my clients and me. I wasn’t sure who for first, but then . . . then I found this in her purse.”

He tossed a necklace on the table. A gold snake. “That’s the symbol of Stacia’s troops—the golden serpent. Only her most trusted confidants wear them, her spies and cronies. I recognized it from all the research I’ve done on her. Kim’s been a spy for her since . . . well . . . I don’t know how long. But long enough to muck things up for you.”

“We talked about the ley line that ran through Harold Young’s house into the graveyard in front of her—after you bought the land. Stacia must know we’re the ones who broke her spell.” I moaned, rubbing my head. “You tell us every time you’ve got a new sighting, but by the time we get there, she’s gone. Kim’s been warning her.”

“No wonder we haven’t been able to get to the bitch!” Morio grumbled, slamming his fist on the table.