In the evening, at the dinner table during the nights Father was home, he’d ask us what we’d done, and we’d be at a loss to tell him. He didn’t belong in our secret little world, and we didn’t belong in his. So we’d talk about school, and Camille would talk about the Coterie of the Moon Mother . . . and then Father would take over and instruct us on the politics of the Court and Queen Lethesanar and the Guard Des’Estar.
Camille must have been reading my mind, because she laughed and stroked my face. “At least we have each other still—maybe not like in the old days, but we’re still together. You, Menolly, and I still form the core of the family. We always have, you know. Lavena ka seva, ter naksa ter las . . .”
A smile broke across my face. It had been years since any of us had uttered those words—but they’d been our watchwords. Our comfort, our pledge. “Lavena ka seva, ter manoz ter vey . . .”
Sisters we are, through pain and through joy . . .
Sisters we are, through life and through death . . .
“Always.” She shook her head, smiling through what appeared to be a glaze of tears, but she dashed them away and looked back at the sword. “Back to reality. So what the fuck are we going to do about this?”
“Let’s see what I can find.” I returned to my search as Hanna brought in mugs of hot tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. Leif Engberg was well known among several factions. One, for being his father’s son. Karl had been quite the businessman and a leader in the IT world. But Leif had made several names for himself and not all of them were good.
“It seems Leif was a playboy and a heartbreaker. There’s even a website out of Seattle focused on women who’ve been used and jilted by him. They call themselves Leif’s Leftovers. How delightful.” I smirked. “Our boy has a penchant for handing out engagement rings, then running off a few days before the whirlwind wedding was to take place. He’s left a trail of broken hearts across the country.”
“Look into his family history,” Camille said. “If the sword came to him from his father, chances are it might be a true artifact. Daniel said it was an heirloom.”
“Good point. I’ll start checking up on his father, too.” I pushed the keyboard back and stood up. “Meanwhile, what do we do with the sword here? There’s somebody in there, and whoever it is, I’m guessing we’re not going to want him for a houseguest too long.”
“Especially since he’s trying to get out.” Shade frowned. “We could stash it in the safe room down at the Wayfarer. The guards watching the portal will make certain nobody goes back there. They’re down there twenty-four/seven as it is, and besides Menolly and you girls, they’re the only ones who know the codes to enter the safe room.”
“That’s a good idea.” I walked over to stare down at the weapon. The sword practically hummed. At that moment, Lysanthra—which was still strapped to my leg—began to vibrate. Curious, I unsheathed her.
“What’s going on?” Camille asked.
“Lysanthra’s trying to tell me something.”
She snorted. “What? Is Timmy down the well again?”
I was about to snark back at her when my dagger gave me a nasty jolt and I almost dropped it. “Hell, what the—”
Lysanthra let out a high-pitched keening and Camille covered her ears, as did Trillian and Morio. Vanzir and Roz were wincing, and Smoky and Shade immediately took up battle stance.
Another moment and the shrill note died away. Lysanthra’s glow dissipated. I glanced at the sword and—once again—it just looked like a sword. I had no clue what had just happened, but whatever it was, I didn’t like it.
“Before your dagger started screaming her lungs out, I thought I saw the sword move.” Morio frowned, crossing his arms as he examined the weapon.
Camille dashed into the kitchen, then returned, pale. “The wards went off. We better check the boundaries of the land, but I think it was in response to whatever the hell just happened.”
Shade nodded. “Better safe than sorry. But Morio, the sword didn’t move. It was the energy within the sword. Whatever is in there was making a play to escape, though I’m not at all certain what’s preventing it. But the sooner we get it down to the safe room at the bar, the easier I’ll feel. Whatever is going on, it’s dangerous.” Shade turned to me. “Call Menolly. If she’s still there, ask her to wait there until we bring the blade.”
Smoky stepped up. “I’ll take it through the Ionyc Seas. Whatever is in the blade, I can handle it. If it happens to free itself during transport, better it be out there in the Ionyc Seas than here at home.” He picked up the sword, and before any of us could say a word, he vanished.
“I guess that takes care of that.” Camille pulled out her phone to call Menolly.
I stared at the computer. “This is going to take longer than an hour of surfing the Net, I’ll tell you that.” My shoulders ached from getting knocked down, and I suddenly felt tired and let down. “I’m going to bed. There isn’t much more we can do till tomorrow anyway.”
Camille glanced over at Morio. “You’re staying up for a while, right?”
He nodded. “I need to do some research, so yes. Want me to fill Menolly and Nerissa in on everything that happened, just in case Smoky left out something?”
“Would you? I think we’re all pretty beat. And tell Smoky that Trillian and I went up to bed? You coming, too, Kitten?” She glanced over at me and I nodded, suddenly tired. I wanted to sleep, too.
“Will do.” Morio kissed her and waved to Trillian.
Camille put her arm around my waist. “Let’s go. The research will wait. The sword is in a safe place and dreams are calling.”
I hugged her. Then, motioning to Shade, we followed her and Trillian up the stairs, Shade and I continuing on to the third floor after they turned off on the second.
* * *
As we undressed by the glow of candlelight, I glanced over at my lover. I loved the coffee color of his skin—like a rich caramel latte. And his hair was the color of amber honey. In Otherworld, nobody really cared what color a person was. What mattered was what they were like. And often, which race they were. But the races in our world weren’t defined by their color base.
Oh, we had our own types of prejudice. There was no denying that and it was as bad as Earthside. My sisters and I were routinely discriminated against because of our half-blood, but skin color? Made no sense to us. Over here, however, even though Shade was as far from human as Smoky was, he could pass in society. It wasn’t easy—not for any of us—but we could manage if we worked at it hard enough. There were some days, when Shade and I walked down the street together, where we received looks that made me want to bash a few heads.
He flipped on the stereo and crooked his finger at me, daring me to come closer. As he stripped off his shirt, his chiseled abs smooth and glimmering in the dim light, all I could think about was how magnificent he was. Oh, he had scars here and there, but they just made him look more rugged.
I yanked off my shirt and moved over to him, turning around. “Unhook me?”
He unfastened my bra and I slid the straps off, one by one, then dropped it to the floor. Shade wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me close. I leaned against him, my back warm against his chest, and he buried his nose in my neck, tickling me as he brushed against my hair and swayed gently to the music.
“I love that you’re growing your hair out,” he whispered.
I closed my eyes, drifting in the feel of his embrace. There was something so right, so strong, about us, and it felt like it was growing every day. Ever since Lash, his sister, had arrived, things had been different. Shade had finally begun to open up around me.
A throbbing drumbeat echoed out from the stereo and I leaned my head back and began to shift my hips to the rhythm. For so long, I’d run from my sexuality in human form, too timid and awkward to open up. And then, with Chase and Zachary, it had b
een good but not right. But Shade? Shade was my match, and now that the fire of the Autumn Lord flowed in my veins, so did his passion, and I responded to my lover’s touch and presence.
“Big Stomp” by Motherdrum came on, and our swaying became a dance. I shifted my shoulders to the rhythm of the drums as Shade let go and began to circle me, like a tiger circling his prey. I turned, following him as he moved, arching my neck and letting the beat take control of my body.
Shade darted toward me, and I jumped to the side, teasing him, beckoning him to follow. I backed up, still moving in time with the music, and he followed, crouching, a look of pure joy in his eyes.
The music shifted to a faster, upbeat drumming song and I began to laugh as I shifted from retreat to outright dancing. I reached out and grabbed Shade’s hand and dragged him to me. He pressed against me, and I could feel his arousal as I draped my arms around his shoulders and we began to grind to the beat together.
With one hand, he reached down and flipped open the button on my jeans, then unzipped them, sliding his hand down beneath my panties to finger me. I shifted, my hips picking up both his rhythm as well as that of the song’s. As my breath began to come faster, he moaned in my ear. I rode his hand for a moment, then I let go of him and reached down to unzip his pants. We stumbled our way over to the bed, and then in a flurry, jeans came off, and my panties and his boxers and we were entangled on the sheets, with me on top of him.
I wasn’t in the mood for romance. I straddled him, leaning back as he raised his arms and I took hold of his hands, balancing myself on his strength.
“Come on, baby. Ride me down.” His voice was smooth with a little spice, like cinnamon on cream, and I shivered. Leaning down, I ran my tongue along his chest, stopping at his nipple, which was pierced. I gently tugged on the ring with my teeth and he let out a groan as I dropped it and moved on, my breasts brushing along his stomach until I was eye level with his cock.
I cautiously licked him long and hard, stroking him with my tongue, taking care that my fangs didn’t scrape along the delicate skin. We’d played that game before, and I’d learned how to be more careful, but Shade could also take more of my mistakes than my other lovers had been able to. He moaned softly as I worked him, the pulse of his hunger running beneath the strain of his erection. Drops of pre-cum hung on the tip of his penis, and I sucked them off, his taste salty and warm in my mouth.
“Come up here, Pussycat.” His voice sliding over the words like honey oozing out of a pot, Shade leaned up on his elbows and arched his eyebrows at me. “Climb aboard.”
Giggling, I straddled him again, easing down as he guided his cock into me. He was thick and hard and stretched me deliciously wide. I settled down, rocking my hips to pick up the pace. He grabbed me by the waist, his hands holding me firm, fingers digging into my sides. I leaned forward, my breasts brushing his chest, and lowered my lips to his. As we kissed, I ground against him, and he thrust upward, ever deeper inside me.
All laughter vanished then as the energy thickened, coiling like vines growing up from the earth. Thick, like mist rolling along the ground to blanket the world and muffle all sound and sensation except what was directly before us. The world receded and there was only Shade and me, only us—only our passion.
Then, once again he descended to join us. Hi’ran, the Autumn Lord, was there, embracing us, surrounding us with the warmth of the bonfire, with the glow of autumn leaves. He was everywhere and nowhere. He did not manifest this time, but he was in every breath we took, in every sound we uttered. We belonged to him, and he had come to bless our connection, to remind us who our master was.
Love swelled in my heart. Love for Shade, love for Hi’ran, love for the fact that I was one of the Autumn Lord’s chosen—a Death Maiden. I leaned back, letting out a long growl as the orgasm ripped through my body. Shade let out a guttural cry, bucking beneath me as we rode the waves of autumn where our desire and hearts were anchored. Afterward, I rested on his chest and he wrapped his arms around me, and as we fell asleep, I wondered just how I’d come to this place in my life.
Chapter 4
I was on the edge of the jungle—a jungle I recognized from many times before. The trees seemed particularly tall, but that was because I was Panther, and I was on the path leading to Haseofon.
By now, I knew the way. Through the jungle and over the bridge to the Autumn Lord’s temple we go . . . There were other paths leading there through the astral, but I’d settled on this route as the most expedient and it was also the one that calmed me most. The thick jungle foliage was lush and vibrant, dripping with water from the frequent rains. I wasn’t sure where exactly here was, but it had a feed directly into the realm of the Autumn Lord, where the temple of Haseofon—the temple of the Death Maidens—existed.
I had been summoned. Either Greta needed to talk to me, or there was something I needed to learn. As I inhaled, a sharp tang hit my lungs. Mostly, people think of jungles as warm, but here, it was always on the verge of cool, like after a stiff rainstorm, when the air was charged and you weren’t sure if the clouds were going to sock in for another good blow.
The urge to roll in the dirt hit me, but I didn’t have time, and I didn’t want to get my collar dirty. When in panther form, I wore the collar of the Autumn Lord—it was encrusted with rhinestones that mirrored the emerald of my eyes. I was lean but muscular, and as I padded along the path, my mouth opened automatically as I inhaled the scents around me. Leaves and trees and plants were so thick they encroached over the walkway, hiding the roots of the trees that burrowed beneath the compacted dirt. There were animals here—screeching birds and small prey that rustled through the brush.
Again, the urge to chase hit me but I kept myself in check. I had much better control over myself as Panther than I did as Tabby, and thanks to the Panteris phir, a plant I’d procured in Otherworld and cultivated at home, my ability to manage my shifting into Panther had steadily increased. The tea was nasty tasting, but it worked, and I drank it three times a week.
The path itself, however, was devoid of other travelers. Once in a while when I came this way, I’d see another person journeying past, but they seldom spoke to me, and often they were ghostly—covered in mist, which told me they were coming in from other dimensions than Earthside.
I loped along, skirting a tree that had fallen since the last time I was here. It was rotten, the stump swarming with termites. Covered with moss and fungi of varying shapes and colors, the bright red of fly agaric caught my eye. I knew better than to eat it, but thought that Camille could use some for her magic. In panther form, however, I had no way of gathering it. I wasn’t even sure I could transport it back with me.
The path wound through the forest, then a small clearing where the sound of rushing water hit my ears. I was near a stream that flowed in a narrow channel down a steep ravine. It was always high water season here, and the whitecaps rushed by, churning along over a streambed of sharp rocks and large boulders. The “bridge” was actually an old fir that spanned the stream. It must have been two hundred years old, anchored on either side. The tree was about as steady as it could get. Which was good, because I wasn’t entirely certain what would happen to my physical body if I were to fall off, and I didn’t want to find out.
I cautiously placed one paw on the tree trunk. My fear of water remained even in panther form, but it wasn’t nearly as strong as when I was back in my two-legged shape, or when I was Tabby.
Inhaling a sharp breath that almost made my senses reel—the cacophony of scents was intoxicating—I stepped onto the log and crossed the stream. I didn’t run, but kept an even, steady pace. The trunk was at least five feet in diameter, so it wasn’t like I was performing a balancing act, but still—the ravine was deep and the fall loomed like a shadow in the background. But luck was with me, and I bounded off the other side of the log with no problem.
Winding my way through another sect
ion of forest, I passed into a patch of thick mist. It surrounded me from all sides, and I could only see the path a few feet in front of me. Keeping my head low so that I didn’t wander off the path, I focused on keeping on track. Eventually, though, I came to a pale orange shimmer in the mist, stepped through, and passed through an invisible barrier leading onto the grounds of Haseofon.
The land here was different. I now stood in a temperate forest perpetually cloaked in autumn. The trees were covered in shades of burnished red and orange, and they never changed. Leaves fell, but the trees never emptied. The seasons ceased to move here. Winter never came, and spring and summer had never been. This was the land of the Autumn Lord.
The temperature had dropped abruptly and now, instead of the after-rain chill, it was that misty autumn evening chill. Sometimes, in the afternoons, the sun would shine here. But its warmth was fleeting and the sharp tang of autumn cleaved through the golden light. Now, though, it was late into night, and the mist was rolling along the ground.
However, the temple of Haseofon was still wide awake. Lights shone from within. The great hall was marble, white veined with gray, and the pillars and steps leading up to the main entrance were wide and spacious. It had a Grecian feel to it, though it wasn’t nearly as majestic as some of the great palaces and temples in Greece. But Haseofon was beautiful. Lights flickered through the window slits and torches illuminated the steps leading up to the temple.
As I approached, I shifted back into my two-legged form. I assumed the dress of my sister Death Maidens—not the gown we used when we were out gathering souls, but a simple tank dress that flowed to my ankles. Soft and comfortable, it was also pretty, in a hunter green that set off my eyes.
Greta—my trainer and the leader of the Death Maidens—had taught me how to shift my clothing when I was out in Hi’ran’s service. It had taken a while but I finally got the hang of it.
Panther Prowling Page 6