Changeling (Otherworld/Sisters of the Moon #2)

Changeling (Otherworld/Sisters of the Moon #2) Page 23

"I see," I said in the iciest voice I could muster. Anger swarmed its way to the surface. I wanted to turn around and march back to the car right then and there. Let the Puma Pride clean up their own fucking mess.

"Let me get this straight," I said when I could manage words without tears. "You want our help, but you don't want us around. How generous. How kind of you to allow us to put ourselves in danger for your goddamn compound and yet look down your noses at us. Well, let me tell you this. Knowing what I now know, if I had my way, I'd wash my hands of the affair. You might as well deal with the murders on your own—you've all done such a great job so far."

"No!" He looked miserable, and I hoped he was. "I told you, that's not how I feel—"

"Oh, right. You're not speaking for yourself, just the rest of your Pride. Your precious family will accept our help because they're impotent, but you won't let us come out to your land because we're trash? Well, let me tell you this—I may watch Jerry Springer, and I may eat Ding Dongs, but I come from a proud family line."

"Delilah—please—" A panicked note filled his voice.

"Oh shut up! As I said, I'd turn around right now and go home except for one nasty matter. Your situation has become our problem. One of my friends, a neighborhood stray cat, was murdered as a warning. He was sucked dry and left for me to find, with a note telling me to back off."

"Don't blame our people for what the Hunters Moon Clan did—" he started to say, but I'd had enough.

"But it wasn't just the spiders involved! There was some heavy-duty cat magic hovering over the whole mess. A werepuma was hanging out with the freak who strung up poor Cromwell!"

My sudden outburst carried to the rest of the group. As they turned to stare, I realized I'd just spilled one of our secrets, but I didn't care. The only thing that mattered now was getting out of this mess with the least possible damage. We had a Degath Squad to catch, and why they were in league with the Hunters Moon Clan didn't matter. What did matter was that we find the demons and kill them.

Zach sputtered, and he reached out to catch my arm. "A werepuma? You didn't tell me this! Is that why you asked me if I could trust everybody—"

I shook him off. Memories of being taunted about our heritage when we were children sprang up, the images and insults all too fresh in my mind. "Go to hell, you and your whole bigoted clan. Once we find out who's been killing your precious members, you can pay us for the job, and we'll never sully your door again."

Smoky suddenly strode over and grabbed both of us by the ears. "You are holding up this little jaunt. Keep your arguments for later. Do you understand?"

I stared up at the dragon. His gaze was a glacial rift in a frozen ocean. Smoky meant business, and I had the feeling he wouldn't hesitate to resort to force if we disobeyed.

"Fine," I said. "Let's go." I pulled away and marched forward. The impulse to transform was strong, but I tried to ignore it. I wanted nothing more than to run off and chase moths and forget about all the stress and tension, but this was the wrong place to let my tabby out to play.

I struggled, forcing myself to stare at the scenery, to think about the Yule tree at home and how beautiful Iris would make it, to think about Chase and how much he cared about me. Anything to distract myself. Finally, with another deep breath, I let my anger go, promising myself that when we got home I'd kick the Puma Pride to the curb.

As we trudged along, Zach tried to speak to me, but I sped up until I was a few steps behind Camille and Morio.

The overshadowing lacework of branches from the giant firs and cedars stretched across the path, forming an interwoven canopy that shut out much of the approaching dusk. Juniper, huckleberry, and salal bushes crowded the trunks, but even they looked worn and ragged. The forest floor was littered with frost-covered leaves and brown needles, and here and there a patch of snow still shimmered where the shade had protected it from melting. The path was rife with tree roots that poked up through the detritus.

As we ventured farther into the forest, the trees grew darker, as if a consciousness had risen to permeate the wood since the last time we were here. The presence felt watchful and ancient, primal in that way Earth's forests had. They were far less welcoming than the woodlands of Otherworld and, as much as I loved being outside, I was always cautious when I walked the back paths here. Even the trails crisscrossing our own land carried that watchful, wary energy.

As we made our way through the woods, I thought I caught a glimpse of some fey creature here and there, hiding behind a moss-covered trunk or a downed limb of deadwood. Each time I'd focus my attention in the direction of the watchful eyes, and there would be nothing to see save for a leaf quivering in the breeze.

Most FBHs confused the Fae with nature spirits. While both sprang from similar roots, there were vast differences. My father's people were more humanlike than nature spirits, who were often queer and unpredictable, born into shapes that left thoughts of humanity long behind. Nature devas often took on the qualities of the plants they were connected to, and most were wary of both human and Fae alike.

I took a deep breath and, forcing myself forward, joined Camille. Smoky was striding ahead, leading the way. Morio dropped back to talk to Zach, and they spoke in soft whispers. I wondered what they were saying, but my pride kept me from asking.

A scurrying sound from the side announced the presence of a dog or coyote, but I could sense no hint of magic. Whatever was out there was four-legged and probably going to stay that way. As we headed deeper into the wood, the temperature started to drop, and I pulled my jacket close and zipped it. A glance at the sky promised new snow.

"Hey, Kitten, chin up."

Camille seldom used Menolly's nickname for me, and when she did, I knew she was worried.

"I just… I liked him, Camille. I liked him, and now I find out that all of his cronies think we're trash. It's just like home. Windwalkers, that's all we ever were and all we'll ever be." The words cut deep as they rolled off my tongue, leaving a bitter aftertaste.

"Remember what Venus told you? Don't be ashamed of being a Windwalker. We're daughters of destiny, babe, and that's not always an easy task. For some reason, we've been singled out to fight Shadow Wing. Yes, it's terrifying, but we wouldn't have the courage to face him if we'd had easy childhoods. We learned to stand up for ourselves because we had to. Now we're standing up to demons because that's what we're born to do."

She put her arm around my waist and gave me a squeeze. "Delilah, no matter what, you'll always have Menolly and me. We'll always be here for you, and we'll always love you. We are your family, no matter where we happen to live. Father loves you, too. And Aunt Rythwar. And Iris and Maggie."

I gazed into her upturned face. She could be self-centered at times, but when Camille spoke from the heart, her convictions bubbled up from a well of passion impossible to doubt. I leaned down and kissed her forehead.

"You have always been such a role model for me," I whispered. "You take things in stride, you laugh off the insults, and you have a fuck-you attitude that I wish to hell I could emulate."

"I heard what Zach said." Camille sighed. "If the demons weren't involved, I'd say screw it and let's go home. But they are, and so we are."

I tucked my arm through hers. "Damn it, why does everything have to be so complicated? At least Chase respects me. And that goes a long way in my book."

Camille nodded. "Chase washed up better than I thought he would. I still don't understand what you see in him, but hey, you wouldn't touch Trillian with a ten-foot pole," she added, laughing.

"Make that twenty," I muttered, grinning back at her. "Okay, let's just shove all this crap aside until we're done here, and then I'll figure out what I want to do about Zach. If anything."

With that, we came to the edge of the trail and found ourselves looking into the barren lea that held Smoky's barrow. The trees swayed, creaking as their boughs rubbed against one another, and the entire meadow glistened with hoarfrost, a tapestry of lacework so intricate I could barely follow the threads of ice crisscrossing the ground.

I looked for signs of Titania, but she was nowhere to be seen, and I decided not to bother Smoky by asking about her. I'd used up my quota of questions for one day, and while we assumed he didn't eat people, he'd never said so directly.

Smoky stopped atop the barrow mound and motioned for us to back off. "I'm going to part the veils between this world and the realm of the Autumn Lord and summon him. He'll come—or not—as he chooses, but if he does, remember this: I have no say over his actions. Don't get near the veil of flame; it will burn you to a crisp if you touch it."

And with that, Smoky gave us a wicked grin and then, even though he was still in human form, all sense of humanity drained away. Like a pillar of ice, he stood, glittering and cold and mesmerizing. I heard Camille gasp as her hand fluttered to her throat as she stood frozen, staring at her lover-to-be.

Smoky threw back his head and laughed, his voice rumbling across the forest. For a moment, I thought he'd been possessed, but then he gave us a piercing look, and his eyes—brilliant as diamonds in the velvet black of the night—flashed, mirroring the aurora that rippled across the midnight sky.

He lifted his left hand to the heavens, and a bolt of lightning flared down his arm, surrounding him with a blue white, blazing aura. Camille fell to her knees, her face a mask of awe and desire, but Smoky took no notice of her.

"Dracon, dracon, dracon … I call down the fire of the gods, I call down the flame of my fathers, I call down the frozen blade of Hel from the land of the dead. Burn wide the gate. Flame of my blood, open the barrier."

With his right hand, he began to inscribe a cobalt pentagram on top of the barrow. A veil of light began to shimmer in the center of the rune.

"Get ready," he said, and his voice thundered around us. As I gazed at him, his dragon self seemed to surround his body in a vaporous mist, as if he'd simultaneously taken on his natural shape yet remained in his human form.

We huddled together, waiting as Smoky chanted an incantation in an arcane language I couldn't understand. His voice caught hold of the cadence, and like a drummer gone wild, his words beat a staccato rhythm as the flames of the rune began to dance. Melding, blurring, forming a veil, the shimmers of azure and cobalt and sapphire swirled in the gloom-filled afternoon. And then his voice rose, and the curtain of flame parted.

"Lord of the Autumn, I call you forth to this place. Be here, now!"

And then, through the flames, came the flicker of a silhouette. It seemed the Autumn Lord had decided to answer our call.

CHAPTER 12

As he stepped through the veil of flame, first one and then a second stacked-heeled boot appeared. Lustrous, the boots were jet-black and scuff free. With every step, a dusting of frost fell from their heels.

The train of a cloak came into view, a swirl of autumn leaves billowing like a feathered cape. As the Autumn Lord crossed from his realm into our world, I found myself both terrified and transfixed. He stepped down from the barrow in a silence so palpable I could hear the breath of everyone in the meadow.

The Autumn Lord. There was no room for doubt. This was the lord of the flames, lord of the autumn winds that shook the windows, lord of pumpkins and tangy soil and decaying foliage. A silent figure, he drove before him the scent of distant fire borne on the northern winds.

He strode toward us, his hair as black as his boots, his face pale and translucent. Twin flames of supernatural fire pierced my shields as he stared at me, leaving me naked and vulnerable. I'd never felt so exposed in my life.

"Back away, dragon spawn." Brushing past Smoky, he held out his hands to me, ten diamond daggers of curving ice pointing in my direction. "You are the one who requires my presence. Come to me, girl, and tell me what you want."

Smoky took one look at the Autumn Lord and backed up. I swallowed whatever was left from my lunch. When a dragon obeyed without question, whoever was giving the orders had to be packing a butt load of power. I forced myself to step forward.

Camille swung in behind me. "I've got your back," she whispered, her voice shaking.

I thought about her journey to Grandmother Coyote and wondered how she'd managed to weather it alone. The gods knew, I wouldn't want to be facing the Autumn Lord by myself. Nope, not going there. Not even remotely brave enough.

I stared at his hands, wondering whether to take them. A little voice deep inside urged me to go ahead. Running on instinct, I clasped his hands in my own.

Fire and ice. The shock almost knocked me over. One hand felt like it was burning up, the other like it had frozen solid. As the two opposing forces raced up my arms to meet at the base of my neck, they sent me reeling toward him. I stumbled into his arms, and he enfolded his cape of leaves around my shoulders and pulled me close.

From within the confines of the cloak I could hear Camille and Smoky shouting and then a noise shook the meadow like thunder, and all was silent. I struggled, but the Autumn Lord's grasp was strong, and he held me so tightly I could barely breathe. I struggled to shift form but couldn't do it. His magic was too strong, so I focused on breathing.

Inhale…

… the damp odors of decay and mildew, of bonfires at midnight swirled around me. They rode in on a gust of north wind, the boreal wind, murmuring tongues of ice and frost, the chilling touch of autumn.

Exhale…

… I slowly expelled the air from my lungs, taking with it a hint of the cold. And again.