And lastly, there’s me. I’m Delilah, the middle one. I’m a two-faced Were, with both tabby cat and black panther lurking inside. And, yes, I’m a Death Maiden. At six one, I’m athletic as hell, with short spiky blonde hair, and I’m engaged to a half dragon named Shade who has given me a new perspective on life. Every day I thank Bastus that Shade is in my life. And finally—finally, my sisters have quit treating me like a child. Probably because I don’t act like one anymore. I ostensibly run a private eye firm above the Indigo Court Bookshop, though I seldom have time to take on cases, and I am the first to admit, I’m not the best person to hire.
As I said, when we were sent over ES, we mostly wanted to work our way back into the good graces of the OIA. And we’ve done just that and more: Now we run the Earthside division.
Along the way, we ended up smack in the middle of Shadow Wing’s demonic war. Unfortunately, we are the ones standing first in line.
• • •
“And so we have a worrisome force waking.” Grandmother Coyote turned to me. “I requested you be given charge of cleansing Gerald Hanson’s soul for a reason, other than he’s part werewolf.”
I waited for it, somehow knowing what was coming. A glance at Camille’s expression told me she was fast-tracking the same as me. But neither of us said a word out loud. Best not to interrupt Grandmother Coyote mid train of thought.
“Gerald Hanson owned the Farantino Building, at least for some time. And while Michael is long dead, Gerald was his great-grandson. His mother was from outside the family, of course, and she was the daughter of a werewolf and a human, which gave Gerald a few extra abilities, but he never was at the beck and call of the moon. The building is no longer in his family’s possession, but they are still bound to it. And Gerald was connected to this last shift in energy. Whatever he was doing seriously upset the balance and it would have gotten worse, had he continued to live. Given all the disruption he’s caused, we decided to forever eliminate him. Contrary to what is commonly believed, the Hags of Fate are not omniscient. We know what we know, but the rest? A mystery.”
“So Gerald is—was—connected to the daemonic energy.” I frowned, thinking about what I’d seen in his mind. Some rough stuff, but it was hard to tell just how far it went. However, he’d upset the balance enough to get wiped out of existence, so whatever he’d done had been beyond bad.
“Yes, and I want you—and your sisters—to find out what’s going on and put a stop to it. The balance is rapidly sliding out of sync and Gerald’s oblition simply prolongs the inevitable. Whoever owns the Farantino Building has money and power, and movement on the web that threads through the universe indicates that he—and it is a he—will be making a play for more than the corner he has currently mucked out for himself.”
Her voice was hushed and sent a shiver up my spine.
“You mean he’s out for a power grab?”
“Yes, and whatever power he’s trying to awaken can provide this for him. Unless you halt whatever lies at the core of this energy, the powers controlling Seattle will eventually fall under the reign of this veiled enemy. I can see no more than this, but it must not be allowed to happen.” She stood, motioning to Mithra and Astralis. “Come. It is time to return you to your home.” And with that, they swept toward the door.
The phone rang, and I picked it up as Camille saw them out.
“Is Menolly there?” The man’s voice was vaguely familiar but I couldn’t place it.
“No, she’s at work. May I take a message?” I scanned the coffee table for a pad and pencil but there was none in sight.
After a pause and a whispered conversation on the other side of the line, the man was back. “Maybe you can help us. This is Tad, from Microsoft. You know, Menolly’s friend, from the VA.”
Vampires Anonymous . . . now I remembered the name. Tad, and his friend Albert, worked the night shift at Microsoft. They were vampires, and had both been turned around the same time. They managed to keep their jobs and their sanity thanks to Wade. Wade Stevens was the director of Vampires Anonymous, a self-help support group for newly minted vamps. Albert and Tad were geek boys and roomed together at the Shrouded Grove Suites, a new apartment complex specifically designed for bloodsuckers.
“What’s up?” I had no clue what he might want. If it was vampire-oriented, it seemed that he’d either talk to the people at the VA, or the Seattle Vampire Nexus, or he’d just go down to consult with Menolly directly.
“We have a problem and thought maybe the three of you could help us.” He sounded tongue-tied, but then again, Tad always sounded tongue-tied around women. The stereotypical geek boy.
I realized he was waiting for my response. A little irritated, I let out a sigh. “Go on.”
“Can Albert and I come over? We’re really worried about a friend of ours and wanted to know if you would look into it.” He sounded so puppy-dog sad that I couldn’t help myself.
“Meet us at the Wayfarer in twenty minutes. Menolly’s there, she’ll be able to join us.” I could use some time on the town, anyway. And Camille would go with me, if I promised to buy her a drink.
“Thanks, Delilah.” And with that, he hung up.
I turned around. “Get your coat, Camille. We have to head down to the bar. It’s probably nothing but . . . you never know.”
As we let the guys know we were headed for the bar, and that we’d fill them in on what Grandmother Coyote had told us when we got back, my thoughts lingered over what she had said. It occurred to me that while we were out, we could stop at Carter’s and see if he had any dirt on the Farantino Building. Carter, half demon, half Titan, was a records-keeper of sorts, and if anybody would have info on this building, he would. We dropped on him unannounced too many times but he took it like a trouper.
Camille slipped into her new coat, a gothic blazer, and held up her keys. “Take my Lexus?”
I nodded. “Since my Jeep’s in the shop, I think we have to.”
About a week ago, my Jeep had started making knocking noises and I dropped it off at Jason’s garage. I’d called today but it wasn’t quite ready.
I slipped on my leather jacket and stuck my dagger in the boot sheath. I’d started carrying it there so that it wouldn’t draw unwanted attention and so I’d always be ready. With as much shit as we got into, none of us felt comfortable going out unarmed. Ever since the Fae had started coming over to visit, the United States had relaxed its knife laws so we could openly carry long blades, but it still made some people uncomfortable, so I tried to be unobtrusive when I carried.
The sheath clipped neatly into the outer side of the motorcycle boots I’d picked up at the leather store. Shade had convinced me to try them, and I loved their sturdiness and badass look. They weren’t high heels, but at my height, I didn’t need the boost, and they would last through a number of ass-kickings. Lysanthra was a long knife but I had long legs, and so she tucked neatly into the sheath. My dagger was sentient and we were still developing a relationship.
Ready to go, we clattered down the porch steps into the rain-soaked night. Fat drops pelted down from the sky, where the crescent moon peeked out faintly from a crack in the boiling clouds. I shaded my face from the stinging droplets. The wind was whipping so hard that the rain was hitting us sideways, biting into any exposed skin. Camille winced and raced for her car with me right behind her. As she beeped the key to unlock the Lexus, I yanked open the passenger door and slid inside. She followed, seconds behind me, slamming the driver’s door and fumbling to insert the key in the lock.
While our Fae heritage gave us more resistance to the elements than if we were purely human, it wasn’t enough to take the edge off the night, and Camille hurried to turn on the ignition and start up the heater. The resulting air was cold, but it would warm up soon, and I pulled my jacket closed in front and zipped it up over the T-shirt I was wearing.
Camille waited for a moment to let the car warm up, then eased into the long driveway. Our house—a three-story Victor
ian—loomed like a Halloween house behind us, and the drive was long and wound through heavy trees and foliage on the way to the road.
We’d had the driveway paved during the summer—something we’d been reluctant to do, but it had become increasingly necessary. During the rainy season, we now had enough traffic coming and going that the road had become deeply rutted and after a few too many times getting stuck, we bit the bullet. Jonas, one of the Blue Road Tribe’s werebears, had come out and done the work for us. He owned a private contracting company and we were glad to be able to throw some business his way.
As Camille guided the car along the paved drive, the rain pounded down, a driving force beating a tattoo against the roof. She glanced at me.
“You should call Carter and let him know we’re on the way. But first we have to meet Tad and Albert. What do you think is going on?”
I shrugged. “Knowing them, it’s probably a nonemergency. I know they’re vamps but they still remind me of overgrown frat boys.”
She shook her head. “Not frat boys—they aren’t hip enough for that. Overgrown vidiots?”
Stifling a snicker, I tried not to laugh but I couldn’t help it. “Roz and Vanzir would be just like them, if they’d been human to begin with.”
Camille groaned. “No . . . Roz and Vanzir would be the frat boys who beat them up.” And with that, she focused on navigating the slick roads, while I put in a call to Carter to let him know we were dropping by later.
Chapter 3
The Wayfarer was crowded, as usual. The early focus of the inn and bar had been on OW Fae, when Menolly had been set up as an undercover agent for the OIA. But two factors had shifted the demographics.
First, Menolly now owned the Wayfarer. And second, the minute she’d been chosen by Roman to be his consort, bloodsuckers galore began to hang out at the bar. Menolly wasn’t altogether thrilled with the change, but there wasn’t much she could do about it. She did, however, insist on reserving the rooms in the B&B part exclusively for Otherworld Fae coming in to visit the area.
We threaded our way through the throng, up to the bar. Camille whispered something to me, but even with our heightened hearing, the noise of the crowd overwhelmed anything she was saying. I shook my head.
Menolly was on the phone, and she looked worried. By her side, Derrick Means, chief bartender and werebadger, was going at it full throttle, serving drinks right and left. Digger, another bartender—a vampire sent by Roman to help—was also working up a sweat. Figuratively, of course.
The barstools were all taken, but I spied a booth that had just been vacated and made a beeline for it. Camille followed, motioning for Menolly to join us. As soon as she hung up, she hopped over the bar and joined us.
“Is something wrong?” By her expression, I had the feeling something was going on. “Did you get another letter?”
She shook her head. Two weeks ago, Menolly had received a letter from some law firm by the name of Vistar-Tashdey, offering a large sum of money from an unnamed client. Whoever it was wanted to buy the Wayfarer and the language had seemed semithreatening. Menolly had tossed the letter aside, but from the few times since then that she’d mentioned it, I’d gotten the impression that it had unnerved her.
“No, but . . .” She glanced around, then leaned in and lowered her voice. “I didn’t want to worry you but I’ve received two threatening phone calls—the second just a few minutes ago.”
Camille cocked her head, her gaze clouding over. “Who was it and what did they say?”
“I have no idea who it was . . . even whether it was male or female. The first time I thought it was some idiot teenager but now . . . I’m not so sure.”
“What did they want?” From my vantage point, I could see Tad and Albert threading their way through the crowd. “Tad and Albert are on the way.”
Menolly sucked on her lip. “Whoever it was threatened to burn down the bar and said that vamps deserved to charbroil in hell.”
Before we could say a word, Tad and Albert appeared by the side of the booth. They’d already stopped at the bar for bottled blood, which they were sipping discreetly.
With a warning nod to keep silent, Menolly switched over next to us, allowing the guys to slide into the opposite seat. I glanced at Camille, who looked as worried as I felt, but this was not the time to discuss it. Tabling the threats for after our meeting, I turned to the geek squad.
The pair were unlikely looking vamps, that was for sure. Nerds to the core, they wore Microsoft T-shirts, and ripped—but clean—jeans. Slender and lithe, Tad had a ponytail that trailed down his back, touching his ass. He was soft-spoken and funny, one of those sensitive guys who would never be an alpha, but that you couldn’t categorize as a beta male, either.
Albert, on the other hand, had been turned before he’d had a chance to shape up. He had a tidy beer belly on him. He sported a ponytail, too, though apparently he had just started balding when he’d been turned, so his hairline was receding. Last time we’d met him, he reminded me of the Comic Book Guy on The Simpsons. But this time, he seemed to have moderated his atttitude and had an almost pleasant look on his face.
They flashed us toothy grins. Their vampiric nature gave them an appealing feel and it flashed through my mind that they might actually be fun to hang out with; then I nixed that thought because even though I’d accepted my sister being a vampire, cozying up to the fangy set wasn’t a good idea in general. Their glamour was all too easy to misuse and abuse.
“Hey guys,” Menolly said. “How’s it hanging?”
“Long and hard.” Albert snorted as I blushed, but then his laugh slid away and a worried look filled his frost-colored eyes. “We have a problem.”
“What’s going on?” I pulled out my notebook and a pen. I always ended up typing our notes anyway, so I had finally put claim to the function of secretary for the three of us.
Tad blinked, his gaze coming to rest on my face. I recognized his expression. It was the same fear I’d felt when I was worried about one of my sisters. He leaned forward, lowering his voice.
“One of our friends has vanished. We’re really worried about her.” He pulled out his wallet and flipped it open, taking out a snapshot of a girl. She looked a little goth, a little geek, and was pretty in an odd sort of way. And then, as I looked closer, I knew what made her look strange. She was Fae—probably Earthside Fae.
“What’s her name? Are you sure she didn’t just go on vacation?” Always, always, get the mundane questions out of the way before chalking up a disappearance to foul play.
“Her name is Violet, and no, she didn’t go on vacation. We’re in the middle of deploying a new product. There’s no way she could get time off right now. She hasn’t come in to work the past two nights and I’m not going to be able to cover for her much longer. Albert dropped by her house when he left work this morning, before going home, but she didn’t answer the bell.”
Albert nodded. “I left a note on her door but I had to get home before the sun rose. When I dropped by again tonight before work, the note was still on the door, and still no answer. I have a key to her apartment—I feed her cat when she’s out of town. So, I decided to make sure she hadn’t fallen and hurt herself or something. There was no sign of her, and the cat was starving. I fed Tumpkins, and when I got to work, told Tad.”
Tad cleared his throat. “That’s when we decided to call you guys. We thought you might be able to find out what happened to her.”
I glanced at Menolly, then Camille. “Was anything out of place? Any of her things missing?”
Albert frowned, then shook his head. “I didn’t see her purse, but nothing else seemed amiss. Her bed was unmade and her nightgown was lying across the bottom. I glanced in her closet and there were two suitcases there. I suppose she could have grabbed a carry-on if she had to make a sudden trip, but she would have called me to take care of the cat.”
“We’re worried,” Tad added. “This isn’t like Violet. She’s conscientious about h
er work, and she knows we need her. And she adores that frickin’ cat. She would never let him go hungry if she could help it.”
Menolly frowned. “It does sound odd. When was the last time you talked to her?”
“Near daybreak, night before last. She was at work. Last night, she was a no-show, and tonight. We’re taking a long break here to come talk to you.” Albert played with his bottle of blood, pushing it around in circles, the concern still washing across his face.
Camille bit into one of the pretzels from the snack bowl. “She have a boyfriend? Parents in the area? And when she left work, did she mention any problems that she’d been having?”
At the word “boyfriend” a scowl raced across Tad’s face, but he shook it away. “She’s been seeing some guy—his name’s Tanne. He’s from Germany, a writer.”
“Got a last name for us?” I paused, pen waiting.
“Baum. Tanne Baum. Fir tree. Like the Christmas song. He’s one of the Black Forest woodland Fae.” Again, the grimace.
“You don’t like him, do you?” I grinned, having a feeling the sentiment wasn’t so much the Fae’s nature but . . .
Tad let out a snort. “Like him? Not so much.”
Albert gave me the faintest of grins. “He’s jealous.”
Even though that was a no brainer, I affected a surprised look. Camille let out a faint snicker, and Menolly stared at the ceiling.
“Jealous? And . . . why are you jealous?” Stupid question, but I knew better than to say what I was thinking, which was “You’ve got the hots for her, right?”
Tad shifted uncomfortably. “I . . . When Brenda broke up with me, I thought that I wouldn’t ever find anybody I liked as much. But then Violet came to work in our group. I’ve never met anybody like her. She’s vibrant, and witty. She thinks differently than any woman I’ve ever known. I think . . . I think I’ve been falling in love with her.”
“Dude, you like her that much but you never asked her out?” Camille gave him a disgusted look.