I decided to let them go without me. I wasn’t part of their lives anymore. A few moments later, Nerissa came downstairs. She took one look at my face and opened her arms. I had thought I wanted sex, but when she wrapped me tight, I laid my head against her bountiful chest and began to cry. As my tears stained her sweater, she moved me over to the bed, and we curled up together, and I wept for the losses in my life. Only I wasn’t even sure what some of those losses were.
Chapter 4
Come dawn, I slept without dreaming—a blessing considering who I was and the baggage I carried. By the time I woke up, at sunset, Nerissa had long been up and was almost done with her day. Our opposite sleep schedules interfered with our lives at times, but we made it work. We had from sundown till late night together, and on weekends, she’d stay up late with me—till two or three in the morning. Weres didn’t need as much sleep as FBHs, so she was good with a few hours.
Last night, after I’d cried myself out, we’d watched an old movie—Mildred Pierce—and then she’d snuggled down to sleep while I spent the rest of the night reading. The house was quiet during the late-night hours, and I relished my time to myself. I was in the middle of a biography of Rasputin, and the reading was slow and dense, but interesting.
Come sunrise, I’d curled up next to my wife and fallen asleep. We were safe enough in the same bed as long as she was awake and out of reach by the first moments I woke at night.
As I took a quick shower, then slipped into jeans and a turtleneck, I heard the phone ring upstairs. Even through the steel door, my hearing was so sensitive that I could hear the doorbell, the phone, loud conversations. There was a flurry of words that I couldn’t quite make out. The steel door we’d installed muffled sound better than the old wooden one. But by that time, I was at the top of the stairs and could hear Camille. She sounded surprised. I sauntered out into the kitchen to find her staring at the phone in her hand, her head cocked to the side.
“You look puzzled.”
“Yeah, well, that was cousin Daniel.” She turned around, the quizzical look still present. “He wants to get together for dinner. He basically invited himself over tomorrow night.”
That was a shocker. First, the very fact that our blood cousins actually wanted to hang out surprised me. Second, I’d expected to hear from Hester Lou first. She had dropped us an e-mail after she left the restaurant the other night to reassure us that she was thrilled we’d met and that she wanted to pursue a familial relationship. That fact that she had a wife, too, had created an instant bond between us. But Daniel? He’d seemed standoffish and taciturn, and not at all the sort who would suddenly go all touchy-feely over us.
“Well, then. I suppose we should all be here.” I raised one eyebrow.
“I know—odd, isn’t it?” Camille moved to the counter, where she poured herself a cup of risha-berry tea. “I guess we’ll just have to wait to see what he wants, but I have the feeling that he’s got something up his sleeve. I know the man is hiding something, though I don’t get any negative feelings off of him.”
“That’s good, at least.”
“I have something to tell you—” Camille started to say, but the phone rang again, interrupting her.
I was closest to it so I picked up. “Hello?”
“Menolly? Chase here.” He sounded harried.
I glanced at the clock. Five P.M. “I take it you’re still at work?”
“Yeah, love working Saturdays, you know. Anyway, we have problems.”
The words we so did not enjoy hearing. “What’s up and what do you need us to do?” I said it half-jokingly, but he didn’t banter back.
Instead, his voice was low and solemn. “I’m serious. We have a situation here and we need you girls. Seriously, come now and bring all the reinforcements you can. We… this is bad.”
Fuck. More words that I didn’t want to hear. “Our backup is depleted. I think Smoky, Roz, and Trillian went back to Otherworld—” Here, I glanced at Camille, who nodded. “We’ll be there as soon as we can. What’s shaking, and where do we meet you?”
“The Utopia Club. It’s burning, and we have people trapped inside.”
“Motherfucking son of a bitch! Shikra—did Shikra make it out?” The realization that she might be so much dust right now hit home and I flashed back to Chrysandra, lying blackened on the hospital bed. With vampires, though, there would be no slow death. Fire was one of the few things that could actually destroy us, and we burned bright and crisp and clear, wisping into a handful of ashes in seconds.
“She’s safe, yes. But the club was torched. That much we are fairly sure of, and the firemen seem to be making headway with the flames. But there’s something else going on in that fire. Shikra told Yugi that there was some spiritual activity going on there this evening—it started in the afternoon while she was still asleep. But her Supe bouncers and a couple of cleaning ladies had several nasty experiences. I’m wondering… is there such a thing as an arsonist ghost?”
He ran out of steam, his words stopping like a train that had suddenly put on the brakes. Chase didn’t usually talk that fast, and I realized he was nervous.
“We’ll be there ASAP. You want me to call Iris and tell her you’re probably going to be late tonight?”
The sound of relief swept through his voice. “Thanks. Tell her to give Astrid a kiss for me, would you?” He sounded lonely, and I realized just how devoted a father he was going to be.
“Will do. Now hang up, and we’ll be there as soon as we can.” As I replaced the receiver, I whirled around. “The Utopia is burning. And signs of ghostly activity have been seen there this afternoon. That doesn’t mean there’s a connection, but we can’t know that till we’re actually there. Who do we have on hand?”
Camille had paled, her skin a stark white next to the black of her corset. “Delilah and Shade are upstairs—she took your Jag to Jason’s. He checked it out and said that for now, it will run okay. He’s swamped so bring it in next week. It’s out in the yard, but why don’t you ride with us? Vanzir is out in the studio with Father’s body, and Shamas is still at work. Morio’s in town and Nerissa isn’t home yet.”
“We’re down, bad. We can’t leave the house unguarded. Vanzir has to stay here. Even with Hanna to watch after Maggie, we can’t chance Iris being alone at her house. Bruce is still at work, too.” I didn’t like this. For a while it felt as if we had too many people in the house, and now we didn’t have enough.
“I have an idea. I don’t like it but I’m willing to deal with him.” Camille sneered slightly and I knew immediately who she was talking about.
“You’ll be willing to work with Bran?”
“I don’t think I have a choice, do I?” She headed toward the kitchen door. “You get Delilah and Shade, and tell Vanzir to watch the house with Hanna. I’ll go get… Bran.” And she was out the door, not even stopping to grab a jacket.
I dashed up the stairs. Camille detested Bran. He was the son of the Black Unicorn and Raven Mother, and my sister had taken an instant dislike to the man. Neither Elemental Lord—greater or lesser—nor truly Fae, Bran stood between worlds, much like the Elder Fae. It didn’t help that Camille had killed his father, even though it had been her destiny and the Black Unicorn’s choosing. Even after the Black Unicorn was reborn, it seemed that Bran nurtured a grudge. Or maybe it was something else.
I’d caught him staring at Camille more than once over the past few days, and the look on his face unsettled me. If Smoky had been here to notice the look, he would have backhanded the man into the Ionyc Seas. It wasn’t desire—not fully—but a desire to possess and tear down. And I was pretty sure Camille knew about it, though she kept her mouth shut.