She cocked her head. “Is everybody okay at home?”
“As far as I know. Camille is waiting out in the car. Let Derrick close up and you come home now, or we’re going to be standing here all night. You are going to want to hear this but it’s not something I’m comfortable talking about in public.” With that, I turned to go before she could ask any more questions.
Curiosity playing across her face, Menolly nodded. “I’ll follow. See you at home. And be careful—it’s slick out there, and the fog is rising.”
As I headed back to the car, I saw her disappear into her office. By the time I was buckling my seat belt, Menolly had darted out of the bar, jacket slung over her shoulder, and was running for her Jag. We pulled out, with her following.
The district where we lived was about fifteen minutes away from downtown Seattle. On a good night, when traffic was light, we could make it in ten minutes, but with the roads slick from the downpour, Camille took it slow and easy. As we wound out of the city proper, we entered the Belles-Faire neighborhood.
Belles-Faire was a heavily wooded suburb that almost could be considered rural, but it was still part of Seattle. Just like Shoreline, Lake Forest, Bothell, and the dozens of other suburb cities on both sides of Lake Washington, the neighborhoods ran into one another in one massive urban and suburban sprawl.
As we rounded one bend in the road, Camille suddenly swerved as a blur raced across the road. The car skidded sideways—even though we hadn’t been going a high speed, the road was slick enough to cause hydroplaning. Camille drove into the skid, and finally managed to ease the car onto the shoulder. She was breathing heavily, clutching the steering wheel. Behind us, Menolly had pulled off the road and was running over to us.
Shaking, I got out of the car as Menolly yanked open Camille’s door and helped her out.
“Are you okay? What the hell happened?” She brushed Camille’s hair back from her face.
Camille shivered, then looked around. “Something leaped out from the bushes by the side of the road. Did you see it?”
I squinted, looking into the night. There had been something—the blur—but I had no clue what it was. As I tried to puzzle out where it had gone, Menolly let out a shout.
“Kitten! Behind you!”
I whirled. There, behind me, peering out from behind a large cedar, was a pair of eyes. Brilliant green, they glimmered like a cat’s eyes, reflecting the light from street lamps. But whatever it was, it was no cat. No Were, either. I could sense the presence of other Weres. And it wasn’t the creature that had darted across the road, unless it had managed to recross without us seeing it.
“Is that Demonkin?” I asked softly, reaching for my dagger.
Camille slowly moved around the car to my left, and Menolly to my right.
After a moment, Camille let out a slow breath. “No, but I have no clue what it is. Feels Fae, but it’s not any Fae I know about.”
“Elder Fae?” The Elder Fae were highly unpredictable, beyond any sense of human behavior. They played by their own rules, and most didn’t interact with FBHs or even those of us considered “regular” Fae. This was probably a very good thing, given some of the predilections the Elder Fae had for the consumption of human flesh.
“Possibly.” Camille moved forward, slowly, holding her hands out. She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes, the magic beginning to swirl around her. As a flicker of sparkling light surrounded her hands, she reached out and a luminous glow began to emanate from her fingertips.
At the same moment, Menolly let out a grunt and went sprawling to the ground as a dark figure jumped her, holding tight to her back. The creature was bipedal, with the same luminous green eyes that were still staring at us out of the woods. About Menolly’s height and weight, the creature seemed stronger than even her vampire nature. Menolly struggled against it, but the woman—it looked female—managed to hold her down.
I launched myself at it, grabbing it by the shoulders as it clawed deep into her arms to hold itself steady. At the same moment, a brilliant flash told me that Camille had let loose with whatever spell she had been prepping. The glimmering light flared in the woods. She had aimed it at the other creature, apparently.
I struggled with the one on Menolly’s back. The skin felt leathery, but it wasn’t like armor—more than that, it felt like a lizard’s skin. I could swear it was demonic, except Camille hadn’t sensed Demonkin energy and she was adept at that.
The creature turned its head and I saw that the features had a feminine bent. I was right—whatever this creature was, it was a she. But as her mouth opened, and she snarled at me with needlepoint teeth, I yanked my hand away from her as her lithe, supple neck bent at an angle that should have broken her spine but didn’t. Before I realized what she was doing, she’d launched herself at my right hand and chomped down into the flesh, her teeth piercing the skin like it was butter.
The pain was excruciating and I let out a shriek. I yanked my other hand away and backhanded her with it as she let go of Menolly and reached for my throat. Menolly stumbled away and turned, grabbing the creature by the arm and yanking her away from me. She tossed her across the road. A chunk of my hand went with the creature, caught in her gnashing teeth. She landed hard, skidding along the pavement. Menolly pushed me toward the car. Camille was already backing away as the creature in the woods came barreling out, looking fit to kill.
Bleeding, I slammed the door and managed to fasten my seat belt. Camille slid into the driver’s side and started the car, as Menolly headed back to the Jag. We couldn’t fight these things till we knew what they were—but we knew they were strong and dangerous.
“How’s your hand?” Camille asked, speeding up.
I winced at the pain. My hand was bleeding profusely. I tried to wrap it up with the tail of my shirt, but I bled through and was dripping onto the seat. The chunk of flesh that was gone wasn’t large—the size of a quarter, but it was deep and I felt warm, almost as if I had a fever starting.
“I don’t know. It hurts and it feels . . . itchy.” As I thought about it, itchy was the word—burning, itchy, and tingling as if it were getting . . . “Oh hell, I think I think it had venom in it—or maybe some sort of bacteria.”
Camille stepped on the gas. “We’ll have Iris look at it. We don’t want you getting blood poisoning. And we need to find out what the fuck those things are and why they’re here.”
We pulled into the driveway, Menolly right behind us. As we tiredly made our way up the steps, we could hear a commotion going on inside. Camille pushed open the door, letting me enter first.
The noise hit us—everybody seemed up and bustling around in a clatter. Roz was rushing around, carrying blankets, and behind him Trillian was carrying extra pillows.
“What the hell is going on?” I glanced around, looking for Hanna or Iris. Neither was in sight.
“Iris—she’s gone into labor. She’s in Hanna’s room with Hanna and Nerissa. Mallen’s on the way. Sharah’s far too pregnant to come.”
While Iris had gotten pregnant a few weeks before Sharah, she was overdue, and Sharah was nearing her own due date. I couldn’t remember if she had one or two weeks to go, but while she was still working in the lab, she wasn’t taking night shifts or field work anymore.
Camille turned to me. “Wait here. Mallen can tend to your hand when he gets here. I’m going to check on Iris.” She hurried off. Menolly pushed me into a chair. Shade came rushing over, staring at my hand.
“Love, what happened to you?” He knelt by my side, gathering me into his arms. He was one of the most gorgeous men I could imagine, with skin the color of golden latte, and his hair was long, caught in a ponytail—honey colored with streaks of amber. He had a craggy scar along one cheek, and he was my height and sturdily built. He smelled like cinnamon and spice, and I felt safe when he was around.