Night Myst (7 page)

I tried to sort out the interaction between them. Grieve was a prince in the Court of Rivers and Rushes, nephew to Lainule, the Queen. Chatter was his cousin, but not one of the nobility. Grieve had always been a control freak, but he’d been fair. Now, his heightened sense of authority set me on edge. Chatter had always been jovial. Now he darted glances over his shoulder. He reminded me of a whipped puppy.

“People have died. You know that, don’t you? Members of the Thirteen Moons Society are dying and disappearing. Marta is dead, her throat ripped out.
Heather
, my
aunt
, is missing.” I stared at Grieve, forcing myself to not break eye contact.

Chatter glanced at Grieve, who gave him one shake of the head.

After a moment, Grieve said, “I’m going to tell you this once, and only once. And I only tell you because I once loved you. Convince your cousin that it’s in her best interest to leave. Take her and get out of town. This wood . . .
all of New Forest
. . . is now ruled by Myst, the Mistress of Mayhem, Queen of the Indigo Court. Any more than this would be unhealthy for you to know.”

Once loved you . . .
I reeled, but tried to keep my composure. I’d known he probably wouldn’t wait for me, but the proof hit me like a sledgehammer in the gut. And then I realized he’d mentioned the Indigo Court, and a cold sweat washed over me. What did Grieve have to do with Rhiannon’s vision?

“Grieve, I’m staying. I missed you. And I need your help.”

“Stick around and you’ll get more than my help,” he said, taunting me.

Tears sprang to my eyes, but I dashed them away. I wouldn’t let him make me cry. “That sounds like a threat.”

“Take it any way you want.”

Sliding off the tree, I wiped my hands on the legs of my jeans. “Our roots are here. My aunt’s home is here. She’s a member of the Society.” Impulsively, I added, “So, what will it take to get you to help me? You want me to beg? To cry? I will—for her life, I’ll get down on my knees and beg your forgiveness.”

Grieve’s eyes flashed and he grabbed my arm again, twisting the leather of my sleeve. “Don’t challenge me, Cicely. It’s not safe.”

The weight of his hand on my body was like fire.

Angry and embarrassed, I tried to pull away. “
And don’t you push me.
I’m harder than you think, and I won’t put up with anybody treating me like crap.”

Grieve was dangerously close. The truth: I
was
afraid, but I knew better than to show it. This new Grieve scared the hell out of me, and yet—for all of his fierceness, the headiness I remembered was still there, compounded by whatever this new energy was. I wanted to push his buttons, to throw down the gauntlet. The wolf on my stomach growled, but whether in warning or challenge, I wasn’t sure and right now, I didn’t care.

“Listen to me and listen good. If you insist on being stupid and staying, then
I can’t help you
.
And I very well may . . .”
He paused.

“You might
what
?”

“You are so beautiful and strong,” he said, his voice husky. “Your energy still sings to me . . .” His lips were near my ear and his tongue flicked out to tickle my neck. I couldn’t help myself. I pressed against him.

He fisted my hair, holding me fast as he whispered, “You know what the men of the Indigo Court do with beautiful women, don’t you? You want to find out just how I’ve changed, don’t you, Cicely? I could teach you what it means to be paramour to a dark prince.”

“I refuse to play your game,” I whispered back. “You can’t frighten me.”

One more inch and he’d be kissing me. As Grieve pressed his lips to my neck, I caught an odd smell. Dust and chill evenings under the autumn stars. Fields burnt to ashes and musk. The metallic tang of blood. A primal scent that set me on edge and reminded me of graveyards.

“Grieve!” Chatter’s voice shattered the silence.

It also seemed to shatter Grieve’s focus. He furrowed his brow and roughly shoved me away, ignoring me when I tripped over a root and fell into a soft pile of snow and leaves. “Don’t come into the ravine again. Stick to the land around the house. Stay out of the town at night, and you
might
be safe. At least for now.”

“But
why
is it dangerous for me to be here? What’s out here? Why are you pushing me away? What’s the Indigo Court? Tell me!”

Chatter backed away as Grieve motioned to him.

“Stubborn woman,” Grieve said. “I don’t
want
you here.” But the tone of his voice said otherwise. “You don’t belong here anymore, Cicely Waters, and if you insist on staying, there’s nothing we can do to help you or your aunt. Take my advice and keep your nose out of the world of Fae. It’s never been a safe place to play and it’s far more dangerous now. Mortals are play toys . . . expendable. The magic-born are in danger.”

He paused, then added, “
Especially
witches.
Especially you
.”

A sudden gust rose up, blowing leaves and snow around my head. As I turned away, shading my eyes from the swirl, there was a quick noise and I heard a faint,
“Goodbye, Cicely. It was good to see you again. I’m glad you’re back but I sure wish things were different,”
whirling in the wind.

Chatter’s voice
. As quickly as it had come, the breeze died and I turned back to find both of them gone. I looked behind a few bushes, but could find no sign that they’d ever been there.

A moment later, a noise from a nearby tree startled me. The owl—a great horned owl—ears tufted up, eyes round and brilliant topaz in the dim afternoon, let out a deep, resonant series of five hoots, sending a chill up my spine as it stared at me with its round, glittering eyes. The bird was huge and I could swear it was studying me. Nervous, I backed away, heading toward the edge of the forest, stopping once to glance behind me. The owl still stared, like it was waiting for me to say something. Hurrying, I turned the bend and broke into the open.

As I raced back across the lawn to the house, Rhiannon and Leo were standing on the porch. When she caught sight of me, she hustled me inside.

“You look frozen through, and scared to death,” she said, bustling me into the living room. “What happened? Did you find anything?”

I shook my head, barely able to find my voice. I didn’t want to talk about Grieve, about how he’d changed and pushed me away.

“It’s . . . Don’t go in the woods. Please promise me that you won’t go in the woods without me.”

She gave me a long look, then nodded and let me go. “The lawyer’s booked but he’ll meet us in a couple of hours, after he gets off work. He’ll meet us at Anadey’s Diner.”

“Fine. I need a bath.” Even though I’d showered before we went out to search for Heather, I felt oddly dirty.

I jogged up to my room and began filling the bathtub with water as hot as I could stand. I poured in several caps of Heather’s lavender bubble bath and the steam rose, working its magic as it began to calm me down. The encounter with Grieve had left me feeling like spiders were crawling over my body and I nervously scratched my arm as I waited for the water to warm up.

As the afternoon began to settle, an odd light flickered from somewhere deep in the Golden Wood. I closed my eyes to listen for anything the wind might have to say, but the only image I could see was that of a great horned owl, screeching in the trees. And its piercing shriek sounded for all the world like someone saying, “Leave this place, Cicely—leave while you still can.”

Suddenly terrified, I made sure the window was locked and closed the curtains. Even so, I still felt vulnerable and exposed.

When I was finished and dressed again—I’d have to do laundry soon considering how many times I was changing clothes today and how few clothes I actually owned—I sat on the bed, taking stock of the situation.

Grieve had changed. His eyes haunted me and I couldn’t figure out what the hell had happened. And he’d mentioned the Indigo Court. But mostly, I felt the sting of his rejection. Would he ever forgive me? And more important—could I love this new Grieve, who was far harsher and crueler? Would I even want to?

We headed out to meet the lawyer at the diner, taking Favonis since Rhiannon was too upset to drive and Leo wanted a ride in my Pontiac GTO. His enthusiasm would have made me smile any other time, but after everything that had happened today, I really wasn’t up for an automobile lovefest.

As we pulled into the parking lot, I glanced around, nervous, but there didn’t seem to be any mysterious creatures hiding out. Last night I’d been running for my life here. Today it was quiet, almost serene.

As we filed through the door, Rhiannon nodded to a gentleman who was probably in his mid-forties, waiting in one of the booths.

He was very suit-and-tie, but I had the feeling that beneath that professional exterior, he couldn’t wait to get home to blue jeans and a T-shirt. He just had that look in his eye. Plus, instead of coffee, he was sipping on a milk-shake, and a piece of apple pie smothered in whipped cream waited in front of him. Somehow, pie and a strawberry shake made him seem less imposing.

We slipped into the booth.

“How you doing? Jim Fischer.” The lawyer held out his hand and I shook it. Nothing spectacular, just warm, firm, and strong. The kind of handshake that offered confidence and security.

“Cicely Waters. And I’m fine, thank you.”

Anadey was at the table immediately with menus and coffee. I was the only one who turned over my mug and I noticed she’d brought cream with her.

“You just take your time looking over the menu,” she said, “unless you already know what you want. Cicely, it’s good to see you again. I was worried last night when those two ruffians left right after you, but I watched and made sure you got to your motel room safely enough.”

“You know who I am, then?” Surprised, I wondered why she hadn’t introduced herself the night before if she’d recognized me.

“Of course, but you were so tired last night, I didn’t want to push you into a long talk. Now then, what can I get you all?” She held up her order pad.

I handed the menu back to her. “Chicken soup, and grilled cheese. Plain—make sure nothing with fish comes near either, please.”

Leo and Rhiannon asked for hamburgers and fries, and Anadey ran the order over to Peyton, who glanced out from the kitchen and waved.

“She’s had a hard life, that girl,” Rhiannon said.

“Why? Her mother seems nice enough.”

“Marta’s daughter
is
nice, Cicely,” Jim said. “But Peyton’s father was a werepuma. And some of the Weres—lycanthropes especially—don’t see magical Weres as true to their nature. Peyton was teased unmercifully as a child by the werewolves, especially the Lupa Clan.”

“So you’re Marta’s lawyer? You seem kind of young.” I’d expected some elderly family retainer.

“Marta transferred her business to me ten years ago, when I first took up practice. She never would say why, and I learned not to question. Anadey is Marta’s oldest child. She also had a younger son, who died a few years ago. The mother left town, but Marta’s grandson—Tyne—is a member of the Thirteen Moons Society.”

“That much, I know.”

“Jim’s right,” Anadey said, overhearing our conversation as she returned to pour more coffee, and bring Leo and Rhiannon their Cokes. “Unfortunately, Tyne and Mother never saw eye to eye, and she left him out of the family inheritance. He’s stubborn, and he butted heads with every woman in the coterie.”

“But he’s still part of the Society?”

“Yes, and he always ended up deferring to Mother, as is proper, but only after an argument. Mother used to say they wasted more time bickering than they did actually getting the work done.”

It occurred to me that if he didn’t like women in the Society, then maybe he saw his chance to ascend to power after his grandmother died, and might somehow be tied to the disappearance of my aunt, but I discreetly kept that thought to myself. I’d talk to Rhiannon about it later.

“I asked Jim to meet you here because I wanted to reassure you ahead of time that I’m fine with you taking over Mother’s business.” Anadey held up her hand. “Just a second.” She called back to the other waitress, “Jenny, fill in for me, and have Rob man the grill. Peyton and I will be taking a couple hours off this afternoon.”

I stared at Anadey. Nothing but sincerity seemed to flow from her. “Are you
sure
? I don’t want to horn in on something you wanted from your mother. Hell, I never even really knew her, more than just a passing hello on one of my few visits back to New Forest.”

Anadey laughed. “Don’t worry. I get the house, and gods only know, Peyton and I need it, but honestly, I have
no
interest in running Mother’s business. You may come get her supplies any time you like. Besides, she was adamant about you being the one to carry on for her. I trust her. I always did, even if we didn’t see eye to eye. And so now, on her word, I’ll trust you to do right by her. You know, of course, that means you are automatically a member of the Society, though not much remains of the local membership. I suggest you begin building it back up from scratch. You’ll need every scrap of what she left to you, I’m afraid. What with the way things are going in this town.” Her expression told me she knew more about it than I did.