CHAPTER 1
My nose quivered. Something smel ed wonderful. I fol owed the scent through the crowded hal until I found myself standing next to the buffet table.
My sister Menol y and I had just stood beside our sister Camil e as she married her third husband. Three--count 'em--three husbands. Simultaneously.
Tril ian had been decked out as the best goth groom ever, wearing black leather pants that matched the obsidian gleam of his skin, a black mesh tank, and a velvet cloak the color of blood.
Morio and Smoky were dressed in what they had worn to their wedding with Camil e: Smoky was in his long white trench with a blue and gold vest, a pale blue button-down shirt, tight white jeans, and his ankle-length silver hair coiling around him like dancing serpents. Morio wore a red and gold kimono with a dress sword hanging from his side, and his hair rippled down his back.
And of course my sister looked good enough to eat, her raven hair glistening against her gossamer priestess robes, so sheer I could see her bra and panties through them. Now that she was an official priestess of the Moon Mother, she was expected to don ceremonial garb for most important occasions.
The four of them had gathered before Iris, who again presided, and together they underwent a variant of the Soul Symbiont ritual designed to bring Tril ian into their fold. Menol y and I were wearing gowns--hers of black with shimmering crystals, mine of gold--and stood as witnesses again.
Now we were into the celebration part of the affair.
I glanced at the calendar on the wal . October 22, and we were wel on our way to Samhain, the festival of the dead. It had been a month, almost to the day, since we'd unsuccessful y raided Stacia Bonecrusher's safe house.
Thinking about Stacia forced me to face another thought, one I'd been trying to avoid. I glanced across the room at Chase Johnson. The detective was sitting at a table by himself, watching the celebration with a quizzical look on his face. Unable to help myself, I headed in his direction. He watched me approach, his expression careful y sliding into neutral. I took the chair opposite him.
"It's a beautiful wedding." I nervously played with the napkin resting on the table next to me. "Don't you think?"
"Yes, lovely." He blinked, long and slow, and I wondered what he was real y thinking. "Camil e seemed a little stressed, though. What's up with that?"
Even though his tone was normal, I knew there was nothing normal about Chase. Not anymore.
"Our father refused to attend the wedding. Not only does he disapprove of her marrying Tril ian, but his official stance is that she's turned her back on her duties for the Otherworld Intel igence Agency by becoming a priestess and agreeing to enter Aeval's court. He refuses to condone her behavior by showing up, and the day she actual y pledges under Aeval's rule . . . I'm afraid of what's going to happen."
"Turned her back on her duties? That doesn't seem fair, considering al she's done for the OIA. I know Sephreh's your father, but damn, that's cold." He sipped his champagne, sounding more himself than he had the entire past month.
I glanced at the fading scars on his hands. His body had healed remarkably fast from the deep knife wounds that had laced his skin and punctured several of his organs. But it would take a long, long time for him to heal from the potion that had saved his life. The Nectar of Life had torn his entire world apart and put it back together in a crazy new patchwork. Our relationship was on rocky ground, at best.
"When she promised to train under Morgaine, and especially when she agreed to dedicate herself to Aeval's Dark Court, Father took it as a personal insult. But Camil e doesn't have a choice; she's under direct order from the Moon Mother herself."
"Yeah, I got that," he said, fiddling with his glass.
"She did everything for us when our mother died, and without her, the family would have been ripped to shreds. Father was extremely cruel to her the last time they spoke, and I'm pissed off that he didn't show today. Our cousin Shamas has been trying to fil the void, but it's just not the same."
"What did he say?" Chase played with his goblet. "By the way, wil alcohol hurt me . . . now? I haven't had a drink since before the accident."
"No, you'l be fine. You can stil eat and drink anything you want. It's not like you were turned into a vampire." I stared at my hands. As loyal as I was to our father, I couldn't blind myself to the truth. "At his last visit, things went from bad to worse. By the time he left, Camil e was on the sofa, curled up in a bal , sobbing. Smoky came in at the point when Sephreh threatened to disinherit her. In turn, Smoky threatened to shift into his dragon self and crisp our father."
"Crap. The fal out from that can't be good."
"Things were at a standstil until Menol y stepped in, told Father to go home and Smoky to chil . But definitely Not Pretty. Not at al ."
"A mess, al the way around, then." Chase morosely picked up his champagne flute and downed the last of the sparkling wine. "And so . . . here we sit."
He stared across the table at me, his gaze unreadable. "I don't know what to say, Delilah. I don't even have a clue on how to start."
Part of me wanted to cry. Nothing seemed to be working out the way we hoped it would. The world had gone to hel in a handbasket for al of us. I blinked back my tears.
"How about you start by tel ing me how you're doing? We've only talked three times in the past two weeks." I didn't mention that we'd barely kissed since he'd healed up and returned to duty.
Chase contemplated the question, looking at me through those limpid, soulful eyes. They'd only grown more luminous since he'd drunk the Nectar of Life. His aura had shifted. Some spark, some force I couldn't put my finger on, was changing him.
"How can I answer that, when I don't even know? What am I supposed to do? Jump up and shout, ' Rah rah, now I'l outlive everybody I've ever known in my life'?" He slammed the goblet on the table so hard it almost broke.
Stung, I blinked back the tears. "Giving you the Nectar of Life was the only option we had--unless you prefer the thought of dying."
Shifting in his seat, Chase let out a long sigh. "Yeah, I know. I know. And believe me, I am grateful. But damn, this stuff does a number on your head. It's more than the realization that I'm going to live a thousand years. There's something . . . nebulous . . . about it. The nectar ripped open a part of me--I feel exposed, unable to put the pieces back together again. And I'm afraid to look too deeply at what's happening." He slowly reached out and took my hand.
I stared at him for a moment, but he remained silent. Both Camil e and Chase had come through the autumn equinox worn and weary, covered with blood. Camil e had bathed in the blood of the black unicorn as she sealed a fate with which the Moon Mother chal enged her: sacrificing the horned beast to his phoenixlike destiny while on the Hunt of her life. And then she'd been thrown under the wheels of Aeval, and would soon be forced to descend into the realms once ruled by the ancient Unseelie Queen.
And Chase . . . no less life-shaking. He'd been bathed in his own blood and was now--by human terms--practical y immortal.
"Whenever you're ready to talk about it--"
"What? You'l play shrink to the mutant?" He shot me a nasty look.
" No. I'l listen . As your girlfriend." I stared at him, the virulence of his anger rankling me. "Chase, this isn't fair. We'd planned on you drinking the nectar anyway, and now you sound like you're blaming me for what's happened."
"I know! And I'm sorry--I don't mean to. But you told me that the ritual required preparation, and now I understand why. I'm not human anymore. I don't know who--or what-- I am. A thousand fucking years to look forward to, and I have no idea what to do with them."
Fed up and too tired to deal with his angst as wel as my own, I pushed back my chair. "I guess . . . it's hard for me to understand what you're going through. I'm trying--I real y am. But until you can figure it out, you don't seem to need me around."
"Wait! It's just . . . oh hel , I don't know what to say." He slumped back in his chair. "I want to say that everything's okay. I feel like I should be thinking that wow--now my girlfriend and I can be together for centuries. But Delilah . . . I have to tel you the truth. I don't know if I'm ready for that kind of commitment now that the opportunity is actual y here."
The tears stung behind my eyes, but I blinked them back. "It would seem that Sharah is doing a better job taking care of you than I am."
The elfin medic who worked alongside Chase in the Faerie-Human Crime Scene Investigations unit had been overseeing his care as the potion worked its way through his system, changing every cel , altering his very DNA.
Chase snorted. "Maybe that's because she's not taking care of me. Sharah is offering me advice, but she's not coddling me or treating me like some freak who needs kid glove handling." A look of pain crossed his face, and he dropped his head to his hands and rubbed his forehead. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Delilah. I love you, I real y do, but right now I'm no good to either one of us."
My stomach churning, I sat on the edge of my chair again. "Yeah, I know you feel that way. But Chase, please, don't shut me out."
"I need to be on my own for a bit. To think about things. Besides, Camil e needs you more than I do now. Her life's a mess, too. And Henry . . . poor Henry doesn't even have a life anymore. Go enjoy the party. Be there for your sister. She deserves the support. And if you meet somebody and you want them, I won't ask questions."
I tried to protest, but he shook his head and, feeling abruptly shoved out of the nest, I scurried toward the door, biting the tears back. Chase was right about one thing: our friend Henry Jeffries had fared worst of al . He'd been working in Camil e's bookshop--the Indigo Crescent--when the demons broke in. They kil ed him and blew up a good part of the shop in order to warn us off. We stil hadn't gotten the smel of smoke out of the wal s.
As I neared the door, a voice echoed from behind me.
"Delilah, you okay?"
When I turned, I saw Vanzir, the lanky dream chaser demon bound to my sisters and me. Over the past seven months, we'd slowly been forging a friendship. Menol y and Vanzir hung out a lot. Vanzir and I talked from time to time. Camil e kept her distance, but she was growing less leery of him as the weeks wore on.
Vanzir's eyes whirled, a kaleidoscope of colors without any names. His David Bowie goblin-king hair was spiked and platinum, and he looked uncomfortable out of his leather pants and ripped tank. But he made the tux and tails work.
I shrugged and said, "I guess."
" You guess, my ass. What's wrong? You sense anything wrong out there? Demons?" Vanzir leaned against the wal in front of me, giving me the once-over. I realized he didn't have a clue as to what was bothering me.
" Men. Even you demons are clueless." As he stared at me, I shook my head and pushed past him. "I'm going to take a run outside. I need some air."
"What? What did I say?"
As Vanzir let out a snort, I sidled to the door, slipping out while everyone was focused on toasting the happy . . . wel , not couple . . . The happy marriage. Camil e would understand. She'd forgive me for skipping out. Because pretty much, only she and Menol y knew what I was going through. What we were all going through.
Rhyne Wood Reception Hal was in one of the larger parks, and the city leased it out for celebrations and parties. Camil e had decided to hold the reception here because--unlike her impromptu marriage to Smoky and Morio--this one had been planned, with over a hundred guests. And those numbers took space. Rhyne Wood had a dance floor, a nice big kitchen, and catering staff.
Situated in Fireweed Park, the mansion was a smal part of the thousand-acre wilderness buttressing the shore of Puget Sound. I stayed away from the perimeter of the butte overlooking the inlet. I hated water and had no intention of accidental y going over the edge. But there were plenty of paths and trees and bushes in which to lose myself. As soon as I was far enough away from the mansion to comfortably feel out of sight, I shifted into my tabby self, my primary Were form. Everybody always thought it hurt, but real y, if I went slowly, it didn't. Just a blur and a haze as life shifted perceptions.
Free of clothing--except for a bright blue col ar--I took off, racing into the undergrowth, reveling in the scents that flowed like hot chocolate on a cold autumn night. And it was cold, but my fur kept me warm and cozy. My worries floated away as I bounded through the rain-sparkling grass, romping in the misty evening, chasing the few moths stil braving the rain.
I leapt at one, an Anna's Blue, and caught it in my mouth. With a quick nom nom, I swal owed and wrinkled my nose as the featherlight wings tickled my throat. A moment later, a rustling in the grass distracted me, and I raced in the direction of a thicket of alder trees surrounded by dense huckleberry bushes.
I knew enough not to get too near the bushes--they had nice, sharp thorns perfect for snagging my tail. But whatever was hiding there, I could smel , and the scent set my pulse to racing. I wanted to chase, to stretch my legs and feel the thril of the hunt. I needed to rip things apart, to act out my aggression.
And whatever was in the bushes, I might be able to play cat and mouse with it.
As I skirted the huckleberry, the rustling grew louder, and then out popped another . . . cat?
Puzzled, I cocked my head, staring at the creature. Not cat. But what the hel was it? Fluffy, bushy tail, cute, dark with light stripe . . . I knew I'd seen one somewhere, but I couldn't remember where. Wondering if it might be friendly, I took a hesitant step toward it, and its big, bushy tail fluttered in the wind.
