Authors: Yasmine Galenorn
Night Veil (2 page)
—Linda Winstead Jones
“
Witchling
is one sexy, fantastic paranormal-mystery-romantic read.”
Witchling
is one sexy, fantastic paranormal-mystery-romantic read.”
—Terese Ramin
Berkley titles by Yasmine Galenorn
The Otherworld Series
WITCHLING
CHANGELING
DARKLING
DRAGON WYTCH
NIGHT HUNTRESS
DEMON MISTRESS
BONE MAGIC
HARVEST HUNTING
BLOOD WYNE
The Indigo Court Series
NIGHT MYST
NIGHT VEIL
Anthologies
INKED
(with Karen Chance, Marjorie M. Liu, and Eileen Wilks)
NEVER AFTER
(with Laurell K. Hamilton, Marjorie M. Liu, and Sharon Shinn)
HEXED
(with Ilona Andrews, Allyson James, and Jeanne C. Stein)
Berkley Prime Crime titles by Yasmine Galenorn
GHOST OF A CHANCE
LEGEND OF THE JADE DRAGON
MURDER UNDER A MYSTIC MOON
LEGEND OF THE JADE DRAGON
MURDER UNDER A MYSTIC MOON
A HARVEST OF BONES
ONE HEX OF A WEDDING
ONE HEX OF A WEDDING
Yasmine Galenorn writing as India Ink
SCENT TO HER GRAVE
A BLUSH WITH DEATH
GLOSSED AND FOUND
A BLUSH WITH DEATH
GLOSSED AND FOUND
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
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Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
NIGHT VEIL
A Berkley Book / published by arrangement with the author
PRINTING HISTORY
Berkley mass-market edition / July 2011
Excerpt from
Courting Darkness
by Yasmine Galenorn copyright © by Yasmine Galenorn.
Courting Darkness
by Yasmine Galenorn copyright © by Yasmine Galenorn.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
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ISBN : 978-1-101-51660-7
BERKLEY
®
®
Berkley Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
BERKLEY
®
is a registered trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc. The “B” design is a trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
®
is a registered trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc. The “B” design is a trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
Dedicated to
Molly the Owl
for all she has taught me,
even though she doesn’t know I exist.
for all she has taught me,
even though she doesn’t know I exist.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thank you to my beloved Samwise. You make life a joy, always and forever. And to my agent, Meredith Bernstein, and to my editor, Kate Seaver: Thank you both for helping me stretch my wings and soar. To Tony Mauro, an incredible cover artist. To my assistant who helps me keep track of everything. To my “Galenorn Gurlz,” those still with me, those who have come into my life the past year, and those who crossed over the Bridge the past years—I will always love you, even through the veil.
Most reverent devotion to Ukko, who rules over the wind and sky; Rauni, queen of the harvest; Tapio, lord of the woodlands; and Mielikki, goddess of the Woodlands and Fae Queen in her own right. All, my spiritual guardians. And to the Fae—both dark and light—who walk this world beside us.
And the biggest thank-you of all:
To my readers.
Your support helps me continue to write the books you love to read! You can find me on the Net at Galenorn En/Visions:
www.galenorn.com
. If you write to me snail mail (see website for address or write via the publisher), please enclose a stamped, self-addressed envelope if you would like a reply. Promo goodies are available—see my site for info.
To my readers.
Your support helps me continue to write the books you love to read! You can find me on the Net at Galenorn En/Visions:
www.galenorn.com
. If you write to me snail mail (see website for address or write via the publisher), please enclose a stamped, self-addressed envelope if you would like a reply. Promo goodies are available—see my site for info.
The Painted Panther
Yasmine Galenorn
November 2010
I heard the owl scream and the crickets cry.
Did not you speak?
—WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE,
MACBETH
MACBETH
You can only come to the morning through the shadows.
—J.R.R. TOLKIEN
The Beginning
Myst led her people into the shadows and ice, and there they hid, sheltered in the depths of lore. The Vampiric Fae were pariah, kept a dirty secret, shamefully debasing the entire realm of Faerie. And so in furtive silence, the Host fed and drank deep and did rend the flesh of its victims and feast. But their thirst was unquenchable, and it was then that Myst discovered one of their newfound powers: Members of the Indigo Court could drink from the souls of the magic-born . . . With this discovery, a vision for the future began to evolve, and the foundation of terror began . . .
—
From
The Rise of the Indigo Court
From
The Rise of the Indigo Court
Chapter 1
The great horned owl sat in the oak.
I could see the bird from my window as it huddled in the sparse branches, trying to protect itself from the snow. I longed to join it, to strip off my clothes and turn into my owl self, to fly free under the haunting winter moon, but the weather was harsh and cold. And Myst was out there, hiding in the forest with her people, waiting.
And somewhere, hidden in her mists and shadows, Grieve is there, captive, caught in Myst’s web. Can he still possibly love me? Can he still be saved from the blood that flows through his veins? How can I let him go, now that we’ve found each other again?
I opened the window and leaned out, glancing down at the yard below. The snow gleamed under the nearly full moon, a crystal blanket of white flooding the lawn. The Golden Wood—or Spider’s Wood, as I called it—was aglow as usual, with a sickly green light that I’d seen every night since returning home to New Forest. A thousand miles and years seemed to separate me from my former existence, although it had been only a couple of weeks since I arrived back in town. But in that short time, my life had turned upside down, in every possible way.
The wind called to me to come and play and I closed my eyes, reveling in the feel of the breezes lashing against my skin. My owls shifted, urging me to fly. The tattoos—a pair of blackwork owls flying over a silver moon impaled on a dagger—banded both arms.
Slipping on my leather jacket and gloves, I cautiously climbed out on the shingles, making sure that the snow that had built up didn’t slip, sending me sliding to the ground, but it had turned to ice. I scooted until my back rested against the window, then brought my knees up, circling them with my arms, and nestled as best as I could against the cold.
As I stared up into the oak, the great horned owl let out a soft hoot, stirring my blood. Over the past month, he’d taught me to shake off the fear of falling, to soar through the unending night turning on a wing, catching mice in the yard, while always,
always
, keeping an eye on the forest.
always
, keeping an eye on the forest.
You are Uwilahsidhe. You are magic-born. You must keep watch for Myst
, he constantly reminded me.
The Queen of the Indigo Court seeks to destroy you.
, he constantly reminded me.
The Queen of the Indigo Court seeks to destroy you.
I raised one hand in salute, the snowflakes softly kissing my skin, and he hooted again, a warning in his tone.
“What is it?” I whispered. “What are you trying to tell me?”
Ulean, my Wind Elemental, swept around me like a cloak, answering for him.
He fears for you. There are ghosts riding the wind tonight, and the Shadow Hunters are out and about. There will be death before the morning.
He fears for you. There are ghosts riding the wind tonight, and the Shadow Hunters are out and about. There will be death before the morning.
More death. More blood. My stomach churned as I thought about the four killings reported over the past two days. One had been a child. All had been torn to bits, eaten to the bone.
I gazed at the forest. What were Myst and her people up to tonight? Who were they hunting? The bitch-queen was ravenous and without mercy.
There has been so much death over the past few days. They are terrorizing the town and now everyone fears them, even though they don’t know from whom they run.
I leaned against the gentle current that signaled Ulean was embracing me. She had been my guardian since I was six years old, bonded to me through ritual, a gift from Lainule, the Fae Queen of Rivers and Rushes.
I leaned against the gentle current that signaled Ulean was embracing me. She had been my guardian since I was six years old, bonded to me through ritual, a gift from Lainule, the Fae Queen of Rivers and Rushes.
And they should fear. Myst won’t just go away. She is here to make her mark and conquer. She is here to destroy.
Ulean caught up a skiff of snow and sent it into the air, spiraling around me.
Ulean caught up a skiff of snow and sent it into the air, spiraling around me.
I glanced back inside at the clock. Seven P.M. Another two hours before we were to meet with Geoffrey. Finally, after five days of silence, the Northwest Regent of the Vampire Nation had summoned us. Five days after we had rescued our friend Peyton from Myst. Five days after I’d lost Grieve. Five days during which the Indigo Court had rained hell on the town, killing eight people.
The owl hooted again and as I glanced in his direction, a shadow of movement caught my eye from below, over near the herb gardens.
Crap
—something was rooting around down there. Not an animal, so what was it? Another glance over at the Spider’s Wood showed nothing amiss, but we couldn’t take any chances.
—something was rooting around down there. Not an animal, so what was it? Another glance over at the Spider’s Wood showed nothing amiss, but we couldn’t take any chances.
Ulean, do you know what that thing is?
A moment passed and then she drifted gently around me again.
Not one of the Shadow Hunters, but I have no doubt it belongs to the Indigo Court. Myst is attracting the sinister Fae.
Not one of the Shadow Hunters, but I have no doubt it belongs to the Indigo Court. Myst is attracting the sinister Fae.
I leaned forward, trying to keep it within my sight.
I need to know what it is. We can’t take a chance on letting it prowl around our land.
Scrambling back through the window, I paused just long enough to slip on my wrist sheath and make sure my switchblade was firmly affixed. Grabbing my fan from the dresser, I slipped back out on the roof and edged my way to the overhang.
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