Autumn Whispers (An Otherworld Novel) (25 page)

When we walked through the house, it felt like we’d been gone a million years. A million miles. Morio was there, waiting for Camille. Hanna had filled the table with steaming food. The quiet sound of Maggie playing echoed from the living room. Everything seemed so surreal that I didn’t know what to do first.

Camille looked equally at a loss. She cocked her head, and said, “What . . . it feels like we need to be doing something. How can we just walk back into our lives and go on as if nothing were happening over there?” She sounded mildly hysterical.

Morio glanced at Shade and nodded. “Okay, you two. First things first. You both need baths and food. Then, we’ll sort out what comes next. There’s nothing you can do for anyone in Elqaneve tonight. You’ve done all you could. You’ll just make yourselves sick if you don’t get some rest.”

He bundled Camille off to their rooms, and Shade slid his arm around my waist and we started the long haul up the stairs, watching as Morio and Camille vanished onto the second floor. By the time we reached our bedroom, I felt so exhausted I could barely walk. I wearily dropped to the bed, wanting nothing more than to pass out. But Shade wouldn’t let me.

Instead, he began to undress me, and I let him. Normally, I didn’t like anybody fussing with my clothes, but I laid back, letting him slide my boots off. Then he unzipped my jeans and eased them down my legs. Next, he slowly inched my panties off and added them to the pile.

“Give me your hand.” His warm gaze held me, and I obeyed. He pulled me to a sitting position and motioned for me to raise my arms. Off came the sweater, and then the bra. I sat there, naked, assessing the roadmap of bruises lining my arms and legs. There were also plenty of them on my torso, and I knew Camille had fared just as badly.

“How’s your hand?” he reached for my bandaged hand.

I stared at it. “I forgot about it.” And so I had. The pain of the wound seemed minute compared to everything that had happened.

Shade cautiously removed the bandage. The wound was sore and red, but it had not spread and seemed better than when Sharah had bandaged it earlier. He irrigated the wound, cautiously scrubbing the skin around it, then medicated it and fastened it with a new dressing. A plastic bag over the top, snugly fitted to my wrist, would ensure that it didn’t get wet.

“Come on pussycat. Let’s get you cleaned up.” He led me into the bathroom, and even though I didn’t care for baths, I welcomed the sight of the steaming tub of bubbles. My aching muscles also didn’t like the thought of standing up in the shower, and so I eased myself into the tub, leaning back, trying to ignore the sensation of motion that always made me queasy when water lapped around my body.

A moment later, and Shade was scrubbing my back, still in silence. I closed my eyes, but the rolling clouds, the flashing lightning, lit up my memory and I began to panic. I jerked to a sitting position, trying to breathe.

“Love, love . . . are you all right? Delilah?” Shade had hold of my hands.

“The storm . . . the storm.” And then, I was crying, weeping, as I wrapped my arms around my shins and rested my head on my knees. “It was horrible. It was so . . .” I lifted my head slowly, staring straight ahead. “If this is what war is like, how do men live through weeks and months and years of it? How do you live in that much fear for so long without going crazy?”

Shade stroked my hair, then my face. “You don’t. Every war takes a toll. Even tonight, even what you and Camille went through . . . I’m sorry, my sweet, but it will be with you forever. I doubt you’ll ever be free of that memory. That’s what war does to people, whether you escape near the beginning, or you see utter destruction for years on end. There’s nothing to be done but learn to live with it. To learn to face the fear and not run.”

As he took the shampoo and rubbed it in my hair, holding me gently as I lay back for him to lather and rinse, I thought about all the people we knew who had been to war. How, even though we were on the verge of demonic war and had been fighting demons for what seemed like forever, we had seen nothing yet.

And Shadow Wing’s armies would be worse than Telazhar. The death that we’d seen rain down from the sky today was a pale shadow to what the Demon Lord could do if he broke through. We’d need to be at the top of our game. We’d need to push aside the apprehension and make certain that our worst fears didn’t happen.

By the time I was clean, the numbness was beginning to seep out of my soul. The hot water, Shade’s gentle hands . . . the feeling of being home, helped to cushion the pain. My body ached. I was hungry and tired but ready to face whatever came.

“I guess . . . food next. And then, we see how Sharah is doing. And then . . . to sleep?” I looked at my lover.

Shade held out the towel. “It will get worse, Delilah. It will get far worse before it gets better. But we have an advantage. We have something to lose. And you always fight harder when you’ve got someone to protect, or something to lose.”

And with that, I toweled off, brushed my hair, dressed in my sweats, and we headed down to the kitchen to regroup, take stock, and figure out what the hell we were going to do after that.

• • •

Menolly was anxiously waiting to launch herself at me when I entered the room. In an uncharacteristic move, she slammed into me for a hug, then—to my startlement—leaned up to plant a quick kiss on my cheek. It was over before I could say a word, but that she had been able to bring herself to show physical affection to someone other than a lover spoke volumes.

Camille was already at the table, tucked into a silk robe, and she cradled a cup of tea between her hands. A plate of cookies in front of her remained untouched, but she had a hamburger on her plate, and it looked like Morio had gotten her to eat a few bites.

The kitchen felt eerily devoid of life. Without Iris around, and without Smoky, Trillian, and Roz, the noise level was at a bearable level and everything felt too calm.

Hanna put a burger in front of me, and a big glass of milk. “Get your sister to eat,” she said. “She needs her dinner.”

I toyed with my food, not that hungry either. But we both needed to get something in us, so I motioned to Camille. “She’s right.” As I lifted my hamburger to my lips, I paused and looked at Menolly. “Do you know everything? Well . . . you can’t know what we went through, but you know Queen Asteria is dead?”

Menolly nodded. “Yeah, I know she’s gone.” After a moment, she continued. “Nerissa is down at the station with Chase. Sharah went into labor as she came out of the Ionyc Sea. Smoky did the best he could but it’s not the same as going through a portal. It really hit her hard.”

“Is the baby okay?” I sat up, alarmed.

“We don’t know, but the fetal heartbeat is strong. I last talked to them about twenty minutes ago and she’s dilated six centimeters so it’s going to be a while yet. She’s narrow-
hipped and Mallen said that may be an issue, but so far, so good. Nerissa is keeping Chase occupied.”

Relieved that at least one thing was going right, I nodded. “After everything we’ve experienced, I have to say I was scared to even ask.”

“I can’t imagine what it was like where you were.” Menolly played with a bottle of blood, taking care to wipe her mouth as she drank her dinner. She was fastidious, and often complained about vampires with messy habits.

Camille let out a sharp breath. “We’re all at the ‘can’t imagine’ stage, I think. We saw things last night that I never want to see again, but I have the horrible feeling that we haven’t seen the last. If that’s what war is like, then we have to fucking make sure they don’t break through the portals.” After a moment, she looked at me. “Shade’s heard, but the others . . .” She looked at Menolly. “You may know some of what went down, but unless you were there, you really can’t imagine.”

So, once again, we told our story. I was tired of telling it, the images were too fresh in my mind. And I could see, by Camille’s expression, they were haunting her as well.

Menolly’s jaw dropped as we told her about the storm, and what it had been like. Vanzir’s face remained expressionless but he leaned forward, pushing his beer out of the way. Lately, he’d gotten into drinking microbrews, and while the alcohol didn’t affect him, he liked the taste.

“I’m going to tell you girls something and I want you to listen.” His eyes whirled, kaleidoscopes in the dim light of the kitchen. “War is war. War happens and has always happened, and will always happen. As long as there are men, as long as there are demons, as long as there are gods and dragons and the Fae, as long as there is greed and anger, hatred and desire, lust and passion, there will be war.”

He stood, hooking his thumbs in the rope belt holding up his low-cut jeans. “Only one thing that is a certainty: even in the most insane of times, you have to go on living your lives. You have to carry on your daily activities as much as you can, because if you don’t, the enemy wins. If you lose track of what makes your life important, then you give them the chance to fuck you over, upside down and sideways. You forfeit and they screw you.”

We stared at the dream-chaser demon. Vanzir had been soul-bound to us under a geas with a death threat, but that had been broken during an emergency that had set into motion a horrible chain of events, culminating in giving Hyto, Smoky’s psycho father, the chance to capture Camille and torture her. He’d chosen to remain with us, though, in the battle against the demons.

Camille was the first to speak. “He makes a good point. I guess that’s what we do, then. We can’t sit around here worrying. I can’t sit here 24/7 wondering if Smoky and Trillian will come out of this okay. Or if Telazhar will capture the Keraastar Knights. Until Trenyth contacts us again, we have to go on with life.”

I ducked my head. Vanzir was right, and so was Camille. Straightening my shoulders, I swallowed the desire to curl up in a ball and hide. “Then that’s what we’ll do. Menolly has a bar to rebuild. And we have to find out what happened to Violet, as well as mopping up whatever mess is going on over at the Farantino Building.” I paused, then opened my mouth. “It’s just . . . everything seems so mundane, so minute compared to what we just came through.”

Camille stared at her plate and listlessly picked up her hamburger. “Hanna’s right. We need food. You know, when Hyto kidnapped me, after everything that happened there, I wondered how I would ever go back to normal. I mean, I still have nightmares where he’s . . .”

A pause, then she continued. “Anyway, at first I wasn’t sure what to do, how to act. But by picking up the threads of my routine, by doing the things that life demands of us every day, I began to find my way back to myself. And I realized that there is no going
back
to normal. You create a
new normal
for yourself. It’s like coming off a path to a much bigger one, where there are more factors. But you learn how to navigate this one just like you learned how to navigate the one you were on.”

Menolly picked up her thread of thought. “True. We were at loose ends when we first found out about Shadow Wing. It felt like we were on a rock slide, going down fast. But we adapted. And now, we will adapt again. Hell, you think I didn’t have to face some of the most grueling adaptation of my life when Dredge turned me? When the OIA took me in and taught me how to regain control over myself? There was no shred of my old life left, I thought. But I was wrong—you two were there, and Father, even though I knew how he felt about vampires. But he was a link to the old world, and I used the three of you to merge the two paths so that I didn’t feel like an alien.”

Hanna bustled over. “You are all correct. I had to do this too—when Hyto captured me. I had to learn how to adapt to try to keep me and my son alive.” Her face fell; it was obvious she was thinking about Kjell. He’d been about fifteen when Hanna had been forced to kill him. Even though there had been no real choice, the fact that she’d poisoned her son to keep him from a worse fate still hung heavy on her conscience.

She placed her hand on Camille’s shoulder, and Camille gently took it and kissed it. The two had formed a bond, and Hanna had been instrumental in helping Camille escape before Hyto killed her. Together, they’d made their way down a frozen mountain high in the Northlands, hiding from the psychotic dragon who was bent on destroying his son and my sister.

Hanna kissed her gently on the top of her head, then motioned to the food. “Eat. You cannot fight these monsters if you are undernourished. Then, you must sleep. You two are exhausted, and also, Miss Menolly, dawn is near and you should be in your lair.” With a scolding cluck, she pushed the bowls of salad and fruit, and a plate of cookies toward us.