Harvest Hunting (29 page)

Fuck . . . but we had one thing on our sides. They didn’t seem to realize what the coyote shifters were after, which meant they didn’t know about Amber or the spirit seal. If Stacia knew we were on the trail of the sixth seal, she’d be right on our asses herself.

“What are you planning to do with us?” I tried to gauge what kind of magic they had at their fingertips. Camille would know better than I, but I couldn’t just ask her in front of them. The trapped door had been a harsh reminder that we weren’t playing with neophytes.

“Well, that depends on you. On whether you come easily or whether you push your luck.” Van stepped forward, a cunning, wicked smile on his lips. “Oh, this is going to be fun, isn’t it, Jaycee?”

Jaycee slid behind him, guarding the door. “Yes, my sweet. We’re going to have ourselves a lovely time.” Her eyes glimmered, sadistic and cruel.

“You ready?” Camille whispered, so low that even I could barely hear her.

I inclined my head, ever so slightly.

“Inch a ways to the left,” she said.

As I did, Camille let loose.

Lightning crashed through the side of the house, arcing down through the basement. With a rip and a shriek, the wood splintered as the bolt landed directly in front of Van, missing him by two inches. Thunder jolted the foundation, shifting the ground as the electricity whistled so loud it popped my ears.

Camille moved forward, a dark light filling her eyes. “Want to play some more, little boy?”

Van laughed. “I’d love to play ball . . . here,
catch
.” And a ball of light shot out of his hands, directly at her, sizzling. Tendrils emerged from the energy bolt as it zeroed in on my sister.

Camille dodged to the side as I leapt past Van, flipping over his head to land in front of Jaycee. Before she could react, I slammed her in the nose with the palm of my hand, and the sound of breaking cartilage was music to my ears. Blood raced down my hands, and as I jerked back, I grabbed a handful of her hair, ripping it out of her head as I used it as a handle to swing her to the side, smashing her against the wall.

“Bitch.”
Her voice was muffled from the blood, but she didn’t look like she was in any sort of pain.
Not
a good thing.

Shit, what the hell was she? No human could take such a hard punch and not react in
some
way. I decided I wasn’t waiting around to find out and sliced through the air, my wrist blade singing as I aimed for her throat.

The next thing I knew, I was moving through mud, my hand inching forward in increments so slow that I might as well be standing still.

Jaycee’s eyes burned bright. She laughed softly, and the blood stopped flowing. It was then that I noticed there were no bruises on her face. None at all.

“You like to play rough?” Jaycee opened her mouth, and the next thing I knew, a coiled vapor launched itself at me from out of her throat. It wrapped itself around my neck.

I tried to wave it off but realized the gas was solidifying—manifesting into flesh, with a grip so tight I was having trouble breathing. A constrictor. Crap!

Digging in with my nails, I tried to dislodge it. Camille let out a scream, and Van’s harsh laughter answered in return. I twisted, trying to see what was happening, but the snake tightened again, and spots appeared before my eyes. As I dropped to my knees, the room began to swim in shades of black and gray. Before I could pass out, a movement caught my attention. White wings came flying overhead, and the floor shook again.

And then I was on my side, gasping as the sweet flow of air whistled into my lungs. Voices filled the room. Somebody grabbed me by the hand and dragged me to my feet.

Blinking, I recognized Vanzir—but the next moment, he pushed me to the side and leapt back in a blur of motion. As I tried to make heads or tails out of what was going on, it began to dawn on me that Smoky, Vanzir, Trillian, and Morio were fighting Jaycee and Van, but no sooner had I grasped this fact when the pair vanished. We were alone in the basement.

“Camille! What happened to Camille?”
I stumbled forward, looking for my sister, panicked they might have captured her.

“I’m right here, Kitten.” She limped around from behind the platform in the middle of the room. Covered with lacerations, she was bleeding from a hundred little cuts on her body.

“What the fuck—?”

“Van pushed me into the glass on the floor and held me down, rolling me on the splinters.” She winced. Jagged shards of glass, some barely the size of a thumbtack’s point, others as big as a playing card, were embedded in her skin.

“Holy crap, you look horrible.”

Smoky took one look at her and let out a huff. He turned to Trillian and Morio. “See that she gets treatment.
Now.
”

“Where are you going?” I asked, suddenly aware of how much was teetering on the edge.

“Where I go is none of your concern.” He gave me a frozen look, then vanished into the Ionyc Sea. Oh shit, he was primed to kill.

“You realize what this means, don’t you? Stacia’s put out a bounty on our heads. Every bad guy worth his salt is going to try to collect.” I dropped to sit on one of the steps.

“Yes, I realize that.” Camille leaned cautiously against one of the tables, biting her lip. “Our lives are about to get so fucking complicated we’ll long for the days we were just fighting Degath Squads. But before we focus on this little goody, we’d damned well better get a line on where the coyote shifters are and get that spirit seal before Stacia figures it out.”

“That we can help with.” Morio began picking shards out of Camille’s flesh. She winced but said nothing as blood tickled down her arms and the backs of her legs. I shuddered to think how long it was going to take to get all the glass out of her. “Marion called the house after you left the café. Apparently, she talked to a friend of hers and . . . long story short: We have an address.”

“Thank gods. That’s the first real break we’ve gotten in awhile. So, where the fuck did Jaycee and Van disappear to? And
what
are they?” My mind was spinning with everything that had gone on.

“You still don’t recognize them when you see them, do you?” Vanzir shook his head.

“Stop trying to be enigmatic. You don’t wear it well,” I said, glaring at him. “We don’t have time for riddles.”

“They’re Tregarts. Human looking—but demonic. Add in that they’re sorcerers, and you’re both lucky to come out alive.”

“I thought they smelled close to Demonkin but . . . why didn’t I sense them?” Camille stifled a cry as she reached down to yank a particularly nasty looking piece of glass out of her leg. “Cripes, this goddamn stuff hurts. Now I know how it feels to be inside a Cuisinart.”

“Most likely, the pair were masked. Sorcerers with the power they have can easily cloak their demonic nature, so don’t blame yourself. Though it doesn’t look like you went easy on the spell tossing either, toots. You do skylights pretty damned good.” Vanzir glanced up at the gaping hole in the wall where the lightning bolt had ripped through, then gave her the once-over. “We’d better get you to the doctor.”

“Uh, yeah, I think that might be an opportune suggestion.” She began to hobble toward the door, sucking in a deep breath, then stopped. “Every step I take drives some of the shards deeper. The stairs are going to be murder.”

“I can take you.” Roz leapt to her side and wrapped his arm gently around her waist. “I’ll carry you through the Ionyc Sea to the FH-CSI. The rest of you—go plan what you need to do next. I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Hold on,” she said, fishing out her car keys and tossing them to me. “Okay. Let’s get this over with.”

Roz closed his eyes, and they wavered out of sight. The Ionyc Sea wasn’t the ideal way to travel, and both Smoky and Roz only took us with them when it was absolutely necessary, but travel through the frozen astral realms came in handy when necessary.

Vanzir, Trillian, Morio, and I trudged up the stairs. There was nothing left here but destruction. They probably never bothered to use the rest of the house, just the lab in the basement. And the pedestal, where they . . . Images of what was left of Paulo filtered through my mind, and I pressed my lips together. We’d track them down and destroy them. And we’d put a stop to the Koyanni while we were at it.

Outside, I leaned against Camille’s Lexus. “Where to? I’d like to have Menolly with me when we go after the coyote shifters. She tends to be real handy in situations where we might have to hold our breath. We have an address, but we’re definitely down manpower without her and Smoky. Camille’s going to be laid up again, if I don’t miss my guess.”

“Camille’s probably going to be okay to go in unless she contracts an infection from the cuts, but she’ll hurt. You know she won’t stay home if there’s danger to the rest of us. You head over to the FH-CSI building and see how she is. We’ll head out and see what we can track down about the address Marion gave us. Drive by, get a look at it . . . anything we can use for an advantage right now.” Vanzir motioned for me to take off as he, Morio, and Trillian headed for Morio’s SUV.

I gave him a long look. At this point, if there was a way we could remove the soul binder, I’d consider it. Vanzir had earned his place with us, but the enslavement lasted for life. He’d never be free. But we were coming to trust him more and more. With one last glance over my shoulder, I hopped in Camille’s car and headed, once again, to the hospital.

 

 

Sharah grimaced when she saw me come in. “Again? What’s with you two? I think you just like us too much.”

“How is she?” I glanced around, looking for any sign of Chase, but if he was here, he was in his office, not in the medic unit.

“We’re tweezing out the shards. There are so many that it’s going to take a while longer. For the first twenty minutes we used clear strapping tape—plastered it to her skin and then pulled. Brought the majority of the bigger pieces and a lot of smaller slivers off. It’s a good thing she shaved her legs recently, I can tell you that.” Sharah bit her lip, then said, “I need to talk to you about something. They’re working on her, so you’re going to have to wait for a while anyway.”

Worried they’d found something else wrong with Camille, I followed her as she led me back into her office. “What’s wrong? She’s going to be okay, isn’t she?”

“Camille? Oh, yes—she’ll hurt and probably have a number of tiny scars, but she’ll be all right. This is something else, something private I needed to ask you.” She let out a long breath and sat down—not behind her desk but in the chair next to me. “Delilah, I have something to ask you, and you probably won’t like it, but I can’t just keep quiet. I have to know.”

Sharah was friendly, but she seldom confided in us, and I’d never had a heart-to-heart with her until Chase had been in the ICU.

“What’s up? Is something wrong with Chase?”

“That’s debatable. We’ve got a long ways to know how the Nectar of Life will ultimately affect him. But, no, that’s not what I wanted to talk about. Not directly. I know you broke up—he told me, and he told me it was his doing, and that it had nothing to do with you.” She cleared her throat, looking definitely uncomfortable.

“Uh . . . yeah. He’s right on all counts.”

“I know he’s not ready for a relationship, but do you think . . . when he is . . . are you planning on getting back together with him?” She glanced up at me then, and I saw it in her eyes. I saw the same look I’d felt at the beginning, after the newness wore off and the affection crept in.
Sharah was in love with Chase.

Hell. How was I supposed to respond? Did I even know the answer to her question? We’d only been separated for a day or two. Was I ready to give up the hope of being with him forever? But as I searched my heart, I knew my response, and it wasn’t what I expected to feel.

I reached out and stroked her cheek. “You have feelings for him, don’t you?”

She blushed—and on an elf, flaming cheeks were not that attractive—and flinched. Just enough to tell me she was afraid of how I’d react.

“It’s okay to tell me how you feel. Please, I’d rather know. After Erika, secrets are
not
my most favorite of pastimes.”

“Please, don’t think I’m like her—I’d never, ever step in where I wasn’t invited.” She lowered her gaze to the floor.

“I know you wouldn’t. I just . . . meant I’d rather know up front. So, do you love him?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “Over the past two years that I’ve worked with him, I’ve grown extremely . . . fond of him. I truly see the goodness in his heart, even if he doesn’t know what to do with it and bungles it up. He really does love you, Delilah, but I think . . . I think he doesn’t know whether he loves himself.”

I closed my eyes, listening to my pain. It stung to hear her say she cared about him, but it wasn’t the sting of betrayal. It wasn’t the sting of abandonment. It was simply the sting of letting go.

“He doesn’t know how you feel, does he?”

She shook her head. “And I’ll never tell him if you are just on a break. I’d never step in and try to take him from you. And if you are truly through as a couple, I promise you that I won’t say a word until he’s ready—and that won’t be for a while yet.
If ever.
”

Taking her gently by the shoulders, I gazed into her gamin face. She really was beautiful, in a pale and breathless sort of way. Ethereal, even as she was practical. She was brave and strong, but gentle enough to make a man like Chase feel secure.

“Sharah, Chase and I have run our course. We learned from each other, and we’ll always be friends. I’ll always love him, and he’ll probably always love me, but . . . I don’t think we’ll ever go back to being
in love
. If you feel the time is right, don’t stand back because of me. Take a chance and talk to him. You might just be the woman he needs, because
I’m not that person
.”