Night Vision (45 page)

Truth being: I was proud of being pledged to the Autumn Lord. I was his only living Death Maiden, and I’d never again be the Delilah who first came over from Otherworld. And that…that was okay. I realized that I didn’t have to give up believing in people; I didn’t have to give up simple joys and happiness. Instead, I found myself falling into a comfortable balance.

“Are we done for the night?” I glanced at the cityscape that unfolded in front of us. Though we were traveling on the astral, we were close to my own world, the streets of Seattle, and both realms were superimposed on one another. I’d gotten used to that, too.

Greta nodded. “Did you want to come back to Haseofon to say hello to Arial?”

I thought about it, but Camille and Menolly were waiting
for me to return, and the promise of a cup of hot milk and some cookies was enough to make my decision for me.

“Not tonight, but tell her I love her and I’ll see her soon.” I paused. “Greta, do you know why I had to be the one to annihilate Gerald?”

She shook her head. “That information was not given to me, but the Autumn Lord was insistent. It had to be you. Grandmother Coyote had specified so. And the Harvestmen, they bow to the whims of the Hags of Fate—as does every creature.”

Pulling away, she reached up and stroked my face. “Your crescent—it burns with fire tonight. You made your first totally unassisted, assigned kill. And so your crescent has shifted and now the fire will forever burn brightly within it.”

I reached up to finger the tattoo. I couldn’t feel much change, but then again, I was used to wearing the Autumn Lord’s sigil on my forehead by now. But an odd sense of pride swept through me and I nodded.

“Thank you, Greta. For your help and your friendship.”

She laughed, sounding like a schoolgirl rather than the ancient and fearsome force that she was. And then, without another word, she vanished, and I willed myself home and opened my eyes to find myself curled in my cat bed.

Blinking, I realized that I’d gone out of body while still in my Tabby form. I yawned, arching my back up into Halloween-cat pose. I was in my tiger-cat bed—it was striped like a tiger, with a tiger face and tail. Iris had bought it for me and I loved it.

From my vantage on the living room floor, I could see her sitting in the rocking chair, looking like an angry beached whale. Iris was more than two weeks overdue, pregnant with twins, and we were all tiptoeing around her. Roz was sitting next to her, trying to make her smile.

Camille was curled up on the sofa, next to Trillian, her alpha husband, and behind them, Smoky—yet another husband (out of three) leaned over their shoulders. They were
poring over the pages of one of those huge coffee-table books, but in cat form, I couldn’t read the title.

Vanzir was huddled over the controls to the Xbox, and other than that, the room was empty. Menolly was off at work, I knew that much, but I didn’t have a clue as to where Morio, Hanna, Nerissa, and Bruce were.

I crept out of my bed, stretched again, and flipped my tail high into the air. I loved the luxuriousness of being
cat
. My fur was long and silky, golden with faint stripes running through it, and when I shifted form, my clothes transformed into the blue collar around my neck. Iris had hung a bell on it, which annoyed the hell out of me and put an end to my bird chasing. Well, bird
catching
. I still chased. I couldn’t help it, it was my nature.

I stopped in front of the fire to lick one of my paws, then shook my head and stepped delicately away from the nearest chair, giving myself room to transform. As I shifted, paws lengthening into arms, back arching, shifting, changing, transforming back to my two-legged state, I became aware of a faint ache in my lower back where I’d been training hard during the week. And the bruises throbbed where I’d tripped over a log in the forest while out on a run with Shade.

As I took my natural form and slowly stood from the crouching position in which I’d been, Iris gave me a weary smile.

“Did you have a good nap, Kitten?” Camille asked, setting the book down. Now I could see that it was a book of photographs from Finland, one that Iris had received as a wedding present back in February.

I yawned, then sat on one of the ottomans, pulling my legs up to wrap my arms around my shins. Leaning my chin on my knees, I frowned. “I didn’t exactly nap. Greta came for me.”

Camille perked up. “She took you out again? That’s five times in the past two weeks. Did you see Arial?”

I shook my head. “No, I decided to come back here instead. I was assigned a target tonight on my own. Greta stood back, and this time it was all up to me.”

I glanced at her. If anybody understood, it would be
Camille. She’d been through hell over the past year, and she’d also been delving deeply into death magic with her other husband, Morio. She’d been playing in the dark a lot lately.

“On your
own
? How did it go?” Her violet eyes were flecked with silver and I realized they’d been that way a lot lately, the further she dipped into the magic and into her training as a Priestess of the Moon Mother.

“I did what I needed to. But there was something odd. I don’t understand yet, but I think you guys should know.” And so I told them how I’d been specifically assigned Gerald’s kill and what I had seen when I looked into his mind.

“That’s disturbing, but I don’t see how it affects us, to be honest. We don’t know where all of this happened, or who the woman was, or even what the hell was going on.” She paused. “File it away for future reference. Meanwhile, I got a call through the Whispering Mirror from Father. We’ve been summoned back to Otherworld tomorrow night for a meeting about the war. We leave here as soon as Menolly wakes up. And we’re to bring Chase along. And Sharah.”

I frowned. “Why can’t they just tell us through the Whispering Mirror?”

“Because something’s up. I can tell. No, we have to go, and they want all five of us there. Smoky said he’d come, and Trillian. The others will stay here to guard the house.” Camille frowned.

“We really have to do something about the security situation here.” It had become problematic, especially as our enemies grew more powerful.

“I agree. It’s fine to leave some of the guys at home, but we need to be able to head out in full force, especially now that Iris is about ready to pop.” Even though Camille said it affectionately, Iris flashed her an irritated look.

“Girl, if I don’t pop soon, I’ll be ballistic enough to protect the entire city. I swear, these children are already plaguing me and they aren’t even born yet.” Iris rubbed her stomach, letting out an exasperated sigh. “I’m two weeks overdue and these young ones are kicking up a storm. If they don’t birth themselves soon, I’m going to forcibly evict them.”

I stifled a laugh. During Iris’s pregnancy, she had become a volatile bundle of hormones. Everybody was crossing fingers it would be over and done with soon, but I suspected Bruce was the most anxious.

Their house was snug as a bug. The guys had put the finishing touches on during the late summer months, and it was a hop and a skip away from ours. Iris and Bruce were firmly ensconced within it, but several times a week, both of them—or sometimes just Iris when Bruce was preparing for a lecture the next day—would join us for the evening.

I kissed her on the forehead. “It won’t be much longer.”

“And what do you know about babies? How many have you had?”

Oh, she was grumpy, all right. I backtracked, fast. “You’re right. I just hope for all our sakes that it happens soon.”

That brought a smile to her lips, and she ducked her head.

“Bruce has taken to hiding in the study after dinner, so I know he’s feeling it, too.” She let out a long sigh. “It will be over soon. Then I’ll just have two babies to raise and I’ll get irate about other things.” With a rueful smile, she leaned back in the rocker and closed her eyes.

I reached out and brushed the hair from her face. “Would you like me to brush your hair?” When I was in Tabby form, I loved having my fur brushed. It was relaxing and I had the feeling, with the amount of hair our sprite had, she might just like it, too.

Iris gave me a quizzical look, then nodded. “Thank you. I’d like that.”

Camille fished through her purse and handed me a brush as I gently removed the numerous pins and clips holding Iris’s ankle-length golden hair in the coils that wrapped around her head.

“Sit, little mama.” I pointed to the ottoman. She settled herself, with a little help from Camille, and I sat in the chair behind her and softly began to brush the long strands. After a moment, Iris let out a long, slow breath and her shoulders slumped gratefully. I took my time, sleeking over the glimmering tresses that were soft as silk, thinking
about my own hair. It had been long once, down to the middle of my back.

Should I grow it out again? But I’d changed so much, and my new style—short and spiky—fit the new me. No, there was no returning to the woman I had been. So long hair would be reserved for when I was in Tabby form and my tail plumed out in a delightful puff. Content, I returned my focus to Iris and gave her a little scalp and shoulder massage in addition to the brushing.

After about fifteen minutes, I gathered Iris’s hair back in a ponytail, looping it up so that it wouldn’t trip her when she walked. She sighed, leaning back with a grateful smile, and I hugged her.

“That felt marvelous. Thank you, Kitten. I really appreciate it.” As she stood, ready to head back to her house, the doorbell rang.

Camille answered. When she returned, she had a strange look on her face. Behind her followed a cowled woman in a long gray cloak. My blood chilled. Grandmother Coyote, and she had come to
us
.

The Hags of Fate wove destiny, and they unraveled it. They measured out the cords, and they cut them. They balanced good with evil, evil with good, order with chaos, and chaos with order. And, along with the Elemental Lords and the Harvestmen, they were the only true Immortals. They had been here long before the world had begun, and they would be here long after it ended.

Iris paused, staring up at the elderly woman with a hint of fear in her eyes. “Grandmother Coyote—what brings you here?” The fear was palpable in her voice.

Grandmother Coyote rested her gentle—yet not merciful—gaze on Iris’s face. “Be not afraid, young Talon-haltija. I am not here on your account. There is nothing to fear from me. Run now, to your home, and rest. The destinies of those who lie within your womb are only beginning, and you must have the strength and energy to run after them as they grow. There is greatness within you, and you are as yet unrealized in your place in the world. Be at peace.”

A look of relief washed over Iris’s face, and she curtseyed, then glanced at Camille and mouthed
Later
before waddling out of the living room.

Camille motioned to a chair. “Won’t you sit down?”

Grandmother Coyote lowered herself into the chair, leaning her walking stick against the arm. “I will not bother myself with chatter—it is not my nature.” A crinkle in her face substituted for a smile. “But I will drink a cup of tea. Camille, fetch me one.”

Camille curtseyed, then hurried to the kitchen. I heard her fumbling around with the china and realized she was as nervous as I was. Grandmother Coyote never paid social calls, so whatever brought her to us had to be serious.

“Where is my grandson—so to speak?”

“Morio’s off training.” I waited. The Hags of Fate spoke on their own time, according to their own agendas. It would do us no good to ask why she was here and I knew it. Like all cats, I could be patient.

Smoky also seemed alert, on his guard. Trillian stood near the door, waiting for instructions. Vanzir put down the game controller and pushed himself off the floor, dusting his hands on his pants as he leaned against the arm of the sofa and nodded to Grandmother Coyote.

As Camille brought the tea in, Trillian took the tray from her and set it on the coffee table. He poured as we gathered around. Grandmother Coyote accepted the cup and sipped the steaming liquid. Then, with a deep breath, she inhaled the fragrance. Finally, she set the teacup on a coaster on the table next to the chair and looked around the room, her gaze falling on Camille.

“You cannot get rid of Rodney, my girl, as much as you want to. He’s important. I know how much you hate him, but you have no choice. Unleash him at the right moment and he may save your life.”

Camille gulped. I knew how much she hated the freakazoid bone golem who thought of himself as a budding Howard Stern—we all did—but she said nothing, merely nodding.

Another moment, and Grandmother Coyote cocked her head, turning slowly to look at me. “Delilah, I have come for you tonight.”

Oh joy.
“Me?”

Usually, when Grandmother Coyote had something to say, it was to Camille, but apparently she’d said all she had to say to my sister with the warning about Rodney. At least for the night.

“Yes,
you
. I have brought visitors. And while this matter will concern all of you, Delilah, you are the one who stands at the fulcrum this time. A balance has been upset and must be righted.”