Night Myst (44 page)

My stomach churning, I sat on the edge of my chair again. “Yeah, I know. But Chase—please, don’t shut me out.”

“I need to be on my own for a bit. To think about things. Besides, Camille 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 . . . and if you meet somebody and . . . if you
want
them, I won’t ask questions.”

I tried to protest but he shook his head. 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 all. He’d been working in Camille’s bookshop—the Indigo Crescent—when the demons broke in. They killed him and blew up a good part of the shop in order to warn us off. We still hadn’t gotten the smell of smoke out of the walls.

As I neared the door, a voice echoed from behind me.

“Delilah, you okay?”

When I turned I saw Vanzir, the lanky dream chaser who was demon bound to my sisters and me. Over the past seven months, we’d slowly been forging a friendship. Menolly and Vanzir hung out a lot. Vanzir and I talked from time to time. Camille 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. You sense anything wrong out there? Demons?” Vanzir leaned against the wall in front of me, giving me the once-over.

He didn’t have a clue 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 . . . well, not
couple
. . . the happy marriage. Camille would understand. She’d forgive me for skipping out. Because pretty much only she and Menolly knew what I was going through. What we were
all
going through.

Rhyne Wood Reception Hall was in one of the larger parks, and the city leased it out for celebrations and parties. Camille had decided to hold the reception here because, unlike her impromptu marriages 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 small part of the thousand-acre wilderness buttressing the shore of Puget Sound. I stayed away from the edge of the butte overlooking the inlet—I hated water—but there were plenty of paths and trees and bushes to lose myself in. 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 really—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 collar—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 still braving the rain-sodden evening.

I leapt at one, an Anna’s Blue, and caught it in my mouth. With a quick
nom nom
, I swallowed and wrinkled my nose as the feather-light 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 to not get too near the bushes—they had nice, sharp thorns perfect for snagging my tail. But I could smell whatever was hiding there, and the scent set my pulse to racing. I wanted to chase, to stretch my legs and feel the thrill 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.

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 hell was it? Fluffy, bushy tail, cute, dark with a 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. As its big, bushy tail fluttered in the wind, so pretty and tempting, I promptly forgot my manners and pounced.

The creature swung around, turning its butt toward me, and lifted its tail.

Just as I remembered what it was, it took aim, shook its ass, and a wide spray came shooting toward me. I yowled and turned tail, but not before getting drenched by the foul-smelling perfume. At least it managed to miss my eyes, but I didn’t wait around for the skunk to get in a second shot. I hightailed it back toward the mansion.

As I reached the steps, I slowed. What the hell was I supposed to do? If I ran in there as a cat, I’d stink up the joint. If I ran in as myself, it would be worse because I’d be bigger, hence giving off more of the odor. I paced nervously in front of the steps, wanting the nasty scent gone.
Now
.

Luck was with me. Within minutes Iris and Bruce appeared on the porch with their champagne. Iris glanced around, her nose wrinkling, and I let out a plaintive yowl.

“Oh, good heavens!” Iris shoved her glass in Bruce’s hand and came racing down the stairs. I stepped out from the bush I was hiding behind, and she stared at me, eyes wide, a look of horror on her face. “You poor thing. Oh dear, how are we going to get you home?”

Just then, Rozurial slipped outside. He looked at Bruce, holding the two champagne flutes, and then down at Iris and me.

“That’s not who I think it is, is it?” He barely muffled his laughter and I hissed at him. “Oh, yeah, babe. You have a little BO problem, know that?”

“What should we do with her?” Bruce asked.

Iris stared at me, cocking her head, and I could see the wheels turning. “Rozurial, you take her home through the Ionyc Sea. I’ll head home with Bruce in the car and we’ll get her cleaned up.”

She leaned down and shook her finger at me. It was tempting, but I had learned not to swat Iris while in cat form. She wasn’t above scruffing me and holding me off the floor, even though she was barely four feet tall.

“Listen to me, Delilah, and I know you can understand me so you’d better do as I say. Don’t you dare turn back into yourself until we take care of this. I guarantee it will be far worse with all six-foot-one of you skunked, rather than just yourself as a little pussycat. Got it?”

I stared at her and blinked. If I disobeyed her on this one, she’d have my hide. Slowly, I let out a complacent meow.

“Good. Now, Rozurial, you take her home. And I don’t want to hear any fuss about it—
just do it
. Honey, will you let Camille know where we’re going?” Iris motioned to Bruce, who hurried back inside.

Roz picked me up and I snuggled against the incubus, rubbing my chin on his chest. I had the feeling I wasn’t going to like what Iris had in store for me, and I wanted comfort. Purring loudly, I gave him my best
good kitty
look and he snorted, rubbing my ears.

“Eat it up, beauty. Eat it up. Come, you’ll be safe enough, just don’t try to jump out of my arms.” And in the blink of an eye, we leapt into the Ionyc Sea and crossed a world to travel fifteen miles.

Roz set me down outside, warning me not to enter the house until Iris had tended to me. “I’ll be back in a moment to keep an eye on you, though smelling like you do, I doubt anybody’s going to be a bother.”

He vanished into the studio-cum-shed that he shared with Vanzir and my cousin Shamas. With Camille’s three men staying with us, and Bruce shacking up with Iris part of the time, we had built ourselves quite the extended family.

I tried to sniff out if there were any enemies near, but the scent of skunk infiltrated every pore. My eyes hurt, my nose hurt, my throat hurt, and I was getting queasy. It felt like the mother of all hairballs was churning in my stomach. I hunched near the porch, trying to avoid being seen by any would-be heroes of the animal world.

Roz came back after awhile, dressed in a pair of skintight jeans and a muscle shirt, and he sprawled on the ground near me, on his back, staring up at the stars, his long curly hair spreading on the ground beneath him.

“Look at the sky, fuzzball.” He ruffled my head. “Look at all the stars whirling around . . . I’ve walked among them, you know.” His voice dropped and took on a sinuous cadence. Even in cat form, I found it soothing and seductive.

“I’ve danced through the aurora borealis, skated my way through the Ionyc Lands. When I was searching for Dredge, I followed any and every lead, wherever it led me. I journeyed from the Northlands to the Southern Wastes, from Valhalla to the gates of Hel, looking for that motherfucker. I’ve seen so much beauty and terror in my life that you’d think nothing would faze me . . . But the stars . . . they’re still the ultimate treasure. Pristine, luminous, and always out of reach.”

He rolled over onto his stomach and plucked a long blade of grass, tickling my belly as I stretched out beside him. “I know you’re worried about Chase. But Delilah, you have to let go, if that’s what he needs. The Nectar of Life plays havoc with humans when they aren’t prepared. You saved his life, but he lost something he wasn’t ready to lose. His mortality—in the human sense—is a huge part of what makes humans . . . well . . . human. When you have such a short time to live, you make the most of it. Now, you need to stand back and let Sharah help him. She knows what to do.”

I knew he was speaking the truth, I just didn’t want to hear it. But he was right. Camille and Menolly had been telling me that for days, but coming from them, it felt like sisterly meddling instead of advice. I let out a little yowl.

“Yeah, I know you know, and I know you don’t like it, but take my advice this time, okay? I understand what it means to have life ripped apart and drastically changed.”

And I knew that Roz did understand. He’d lost his family to Dredge; he’d lost his wife when Zeus and Hera decided to use them both as pawns. He’d been changed from Fae to incubus in the blink of an eye. Chase’s life had been turned upside down in that same fraction of a second, though not as harshly as Roz’s.

A car pulled into the driveway. Bruce and his driver. And Iris. They jumped out and I saw they’d brought Vanzir home, too. Probably a good thing. He wasn’t the most decorous guest, and I had a feeling he’d be happier here than hanging out late at a party where most of the guests avoided him.

Iris ran inside, and in less than ten minutes, she dashed down from the back porch, wearing a rubber apron over what I recognized as a dress she kept for the grungiest chores. She stood over me, hands on her hips.

“Well, I don’t know how you got yourself in this fix, but let’s take care of you.” She leaned over and scooped me up in her arms, her nose twitching. “You reek, girl. What did you say to that skunk?”

I wanted to protest—
It wasn’t my fault, I didn’t do anything.
But I knew that—even if I protested in cat—Iris would understand and call me on it. Truth was, I’d invaded the skunk’s territory and threatened it by pouncing.

Iris carried me against one hip as she went up the back steps and into the enclosed porch, where I saw something so horrible waiting for me that I squirmed, desperately trying to get away: A bath full of what looked like dark, thick water.

She struggled, her thick rubber gloves losing their purchase on me. The minute her grip weakened, I bolted for the door to the kitchen, which was standing open.

“Come back here! Delilah, get your fuzzy butt back here
right now
!”

I galloped toward the stairs, but before I could get there, Vanzir was standing in front of me, a snarky grin on his face. Faster than I could blink, he reached out and snagged me up. I squirmed but he held fast and carried me at arm’s length to the porch, where he unceremoniously dumped me in the water. Iris slammed the door so I couldn’t get into the house again, but I’d already given up, resigned. I was already wet, I might as well let her give me the bath.

The scent of tomato juice cocktail broke through the smell filtering into my nostrils, and I took a cautious lick of the water.

Iris began to scrub me with the juice, straight, and I hated to admit it, but it felt good. I detested the smell of skunk—it was making me nauseated—and if Iris thought that a bath in V8 would help, then I’d let her bathe me. I even relented enough to let her scrub my tummy. She took off my collar and I felt suddenly naked. After all, that collar contained my clothing. When I changed back, if it wasn’t on me, my clothes wouldn’t be either.