She could see Corinne’s confused face out of the corner of her eye, and she could feel Asher’s gaze intent upon her, but she didn’t look at either of them. The minute she’d tried to remember, the dream had flooded back and filled her vision.
“I don’t know who I was supposed to be. No one was talking in it, so it’s not like I heard someone call my name. And I didn’t actually see where it was. It was like I had my eyes closed, even in the dream. I could hear things, and smell things, but I couldn’t see anything about where I was.”
“What did you hear?” Asher asked quietly, forcefully.
Daphanie paused, remembering. “Drums. Not like a drum kit for a rock band, but a lot of single drums. Like in African or Caribbean music, or in a Native American ceremony. There were a lot of people playing drums. And I think some of them were singing in the background, or chanting. But I couldn’t really hear the words, just the sound of voices.”
“What else?”
She frowned, almost afraid to concentrate too hard on the memory of the thing that had almost taken her over. “That was the main sound. I’m mean I’m assuming there was background noise from people moving around or the fire crackling or whatever, but it didn’t really make much of an impression.”
“There was a fire?”
“Yeah. Like a bonfire. And it was nighttime, because I could feel the heat from the fire, but on the side that faced away from the fire, my skin felt almost cold.”
“Go on. What else did you feel?”
“My clothes. I think I was wearing a dress, something with a full skirt, but not a really long one. A few inches past the knee, maybe. And I think I was dancing. I can remember feeling the skirt swishing around while I moved.”
“Do you remember anything else?”
Daphanie shook her head. “Just the smells. I remember the fire and wood smoke, but I smelled charcoal, too. And some kind of incense, I guess. I remember that it smelled sweet and musky and smoky all at once.”
Deliberately shaking herself, throwing off the sticky tendrils of the dream-memory, Daphanie wrapped her arms around herself and glared up at Asher. “That was the dream. But I don’t see what it has to do with last night.”
Asher’s brows shot up, but he didn’t look surprised so much as he looked like he was intentionally prodding her. “Don’t you? You don’t see what dreaming of a voodoo ceremony has to do with your encounter with an irate witch doctor?”
Daphanie’s heart skipped a beat. She assured herself it was shock. She was just shocked at his assumption. “A voodoo ceremony? What on earth makes you think that was part of my dream? I think it’s a pretty big leap from dreaming about wearing a dress and hearing drums to dreaming about a voodoo ceremony.”
“And how many voodoo ceremonies have you been to?”
Beside her, Corinne coughed. Daphanie contented herself with a glare. “None, as I’m sure you’ve assumed. How many have you been to?”
“Enough to make an educated guess about the content of your dream,” he replied evenly. “If I’m wrong, I’ll happily apologize later, but in the meantime, it’s my job to assume that your dream is evidence of D’Abo’s continued interest in you. You have no idea what the man is capable of, but influencing your dream would not be beyond the skills of a powerful practitioner.”
Daphanie felt a stirring of unease. “Is D’Abo really that powerful?”
“Do you want to take the chance of assuming that he isn’t?”
“I don’t want to assume anything, but I also don’t want to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder and waiting for some crazed witch doctor to jump out from behind a tree and turn me into a toad. I want an accurate gauge of exactly how much worrying I’m supposed to do.”
“None,” he told her, his voice firm, his tone dismissive. “While you are under my protection, you don’t need to worry at all, merely exercise common-sense caution.”
“That’s not an answer.”
Asher looked like he wanted to answer with an attempt at strangulation. Instead, he glared at her and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
“How. Powerful. Is. Charles. D’Abo?” Daphanie demanded through clenched teeth.
“I don’t know.”
Daphanie blinked.
“You don’t know?” Corinne repeated after a long minute of silence. “You mean you’ve made all of this fuss over someone who might not be any more powerful than … a first-year Hogwarts student?”
Asher apparently got the pop-culture reference. At least he looked sufficiently unamused for Daphanie to guess that he had.
“No,” he bit out carefully. “D’Abo is definitely worth our concern and our caution. He reeked of magic when I saw him last night, all of it dark. That’s not something to take lightly. And do I have to remind you that the fundamental truth remains that no matter how powerful a witch he is, he is Other and you are human ?”
Daphanie and Corinne looked at each other. Corinne pursed her lips.
“There is that,” she conceded.
“Thank you,” Asher snapped.
“So what we really need to know, then, is who this D’Abo fellow really is and how seriously we should take him as a threat,” Corinne continued, nodding decisively. “I know I’ve never heard of him before today, but I’m not sure that means much. For as many stupid sensation pieces my paper has run on black magic and human sacrifice threatening the very heart of Manhattan, there have to be at least a hundred supposed voodoo temples in the city. There’s no reason for his to have stood out.”
Asher nodded reluctantly. “I had planned to begin making inquiries, gathering information, but I am reluctant to do so with Daphanie at my side. I can’t guess what we could be stirring up, and I don’t take chances with the humans in my care.”
“Leave her to me.”
Daphanie watched in annoyed bemusement as the two people in the room set about planning her day for her.
“I’ll take her with me. I’d like to do a little digging myself, and when it comes to things Other, I always head straight to the source. Daph, go put on some clothes. We’ll head over there now.”
“Over where?” Daphanie and Asher asked simultaneously.
“The bat cave,” Corinne said. “Missy’s place.”
“Missy?”
“Missy and Graham Winters,” Corinne explained to Asher. “I can’t think of anyplace safer for Daphanie to be when she’s not with you than under the nose of the alpha of the Silverback Clan. Can you?”
Daphanie saw Asher actually mull the question over before he conceded with a sharp nod.
“Plus, Missy’s my primary source for this kind of material. I’ll ask her about this D’Abo character.” Corinne stood and shooed Daphanie toward the bedroom to change her clothes. “And let me tell you, if she doesn’t have the answers, someone next door will.”
Five
Of course, by saying that the average human has no need to fear the Others, we’re not suggesting that nonhumans can’t be dangerous. They can be—very dangerous. But if a person minds her own business and makes a modest effort to respect the Others around her, she can be fully confident that she’s no more likely to be killed by one of them than by one of her own kind.
—A Human Handbook to the Others, Chapter Three
The reason for Corinne’s confidence in the knowledge possessed by her friend’s next-door neighbors owed a lot to the fact that Melissa Roper Winters lived in the town house directly beside and adjoining the building that housed Vircolac. The club had been established centuries before by ancestors of her husband, and Graham Winters continued to own and operate the venerable Other institution in addition to managing the city’s resident Lupine pack, the Silverback Clan. More than once, Daphanie had heard Missy refer to her husband half jokingly as a bit of an overachiever.
Daphanie just called him scary. Almost as scary as the Guardian who had walked her and Corinne to their friend’s front door and refused to go any farther than the end
of the block until he could see them inside.
Thankfully, Missy informed them that Graham wasn’t in when she answered her bell and welcomed both women to her home. Daphanie stepped inside and out of Asher’s sight with a mingled sense of relief and … loss?
“Well, this is a surprise.” Melissa, a petite blonde with sweet features and intelligent eyes, led them into a cozy study and settled them on a luxuriously battered leather sofa. “I figured you’d both be sleeping until noon after yesterday. Especially you, Daphanie. Your mom told me how ragged Danice had you all running with prep work. She said she didn’t expect to hear from you anytime before next weekend.”
Daphanie shifted uncomfortably. She’d liked Missy from the first time she’d met the woman, but then she couldn’t imagine anyone who didn’t. Melissa was a kindergarten teacher by training and a nurturer by design. Even before she’d married and started having kids, she’d always struck Daphanie as the maternal type. She was always trying to take care of the people around her, and just being with her made a person feel more tranquil.
Except for right now. At the moment, Daphanie didn’t think a baker’s dozen of Xanax could offer her tranquility.
“Daphanie has a little problem,” Corinne said, cutting straight to the heart of the matter. “We were hoping you could help us figure it out.”
Missy cocked her head to the side and frowned. “Oh, no. Of course, I’m happy to help, but I hope it’s nothing serious.”
Daphanie feared she might choke.
“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” Corinne continued. “But I can tell you that it all starts with Quigley.”
“Uh-oh. That’s not a good sign.”
“Tell me about it.”
“I wish someone had told me about it yesterday,” Daphanie said.
Corinne shook her head. “Water under the bridge. The objective now is to figure out what we’re dealing with and come up with a plan for damage control.”
“Damage control?” Missy’s eyes widened and her hand reached out to hover over the phone beside her chair. “Should I call for reinforcements?”
“Maybe later. In fact, why don’t we fill you in and you can let us know if we need to muster the troops just yet?”
It was a little surreal, Daphanie decided, to be sitting there listening to someone else recount the events of last night. It felt almost as if she were hearing a story about another woman entirely, instead of a retelling of something she’d personally experienced.
Too bad last night couldn’t have been the nightmare and her odd dream the reality. Nothing so terrible had happened while she danced to drumbeats in the firelight, and it had felt so real, she could almost consider it a memory rather than a dream. And it hadn’t involved threats, fights, or being intimidated by tall, sexy men with heroic tendencies. That made it tops in her book.
“Oh, my goodness,” Missy breathed when Corinne had finished. “You met a Guardian? A real Guardian? I was ready to write them off as a myth. You know, a real myth, not a vampire-slash-werewolf myth. What was he like?”
Corinne threw up her hands. “That’s all you have to say? I tell you that Daphanie here ran off with an imp, mortally offended a witch doctor, and had dreams of performing some weird ritual that were so real she nearly passed out, and all you can ask is what the guy who walked her home was like?”
“Hey, I didn’t ‘run off’ with the imp,” Daphanie protested. “You make it sound like we were headed to an all-night wedding chapel in Vegas. I just went with him to a club and let him show me a little bit about the Others.”
“Yeah, and he nearly ‘showed you’ to an early grave!”
Missy held up her hands and scowled at Corinne. “Take it easy, Rinne. I’ll agree with you that Daphanie’s decisions last night might not have been the wisest ones she could have made, but she looks fine to me. She’s here, she’s unhurt, and according to what you’ve said, she’s under the protection of a Guardian. Frankly, that’s about as safe as a person can get, from what I hear.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
It took an effort for Daphanie not to repeat the question.
“Like I said, I’ve never met a Guardian, but Graham has mentioned them. From what he tells me, there aren’t many left these days. I’m not even sure if he’s met one.” Missy drew her legs up beneath her and leaned into the arm of her chair. “The louder the community rumbles about the time to Unveil ourselves, the fewer Guardian angels seem to be on the job. Though from what I hear, they’re not wild about the angel comparison.”
“You might say that,” Daphanie muttered.
“Graham says there’s nothing religious about them, so that may be what makes them touchy on the subject. Apparently, they’re not sent by God, or anything; they’re led by someone they refer to as the Watcher. He’s supposed to be the oldest Guardian alive, and it’s his job to keep an eye out for humans in danger and to assign a Guardian to protect them if need be.”
“That’s funny, because I didn’t see any winged warriors rushing to the rescue when you and Reggie nearly got yourselves killed.” Corinne crossed her arms over her chest and glared.
“Neither Reggie nor I were really in that much danger,” Missy said, her tone calm and only the slightest bit reproving. “Besides which, we had Graham and Misha watching over us. I think we were pretty well protected as it was. I gather that the Guardians save their efforts for humans who don’t have an advantage like that. In fact, the Guardians supposedly try to stay in the background and only reveal themselves to the humans if there’s no other way to help them, so I’m thinking that they generally deal with people who don’t know about the Others and may not even realize they’re in danger.”
“Trust me; I realized it,” Daphanie said.
Missy smiled. “From what I hear, I’m not surprised.” She hesitated for a moment, chewing her lip. “I’m sorry, but I have to ask … did the Guardian really have wings?”
The expression on the other woman’s face reminded Daphanie of nothing so much as a little girl about to hear a secret. She couldn’t help a soft laugh. “Huge ones. I mean, he didn’t spread ’em and fly away or anything, but even folded up, they were enough to give a girl pause. He didn’t have them all the time, though. It was like he could … I don’t know … put them away when he wasn’t using them. Where he hides them, I can’t imagine, but when we left the club, he looked pretty much like a normal guy.”
“Hm, maybe I have met a Guardian, then, and I just didn’t notice,” Missy said. “But as for the disappearing wings, I’ve learned over the last couple of years that magic can make a whole bunch of impossible things perfectly possible.”
Daphanie nodded, then she tried to imagine not noticing Asher Grayson pass by and it was like her brain blew a fuse. The idea just did not compute.
“That’s all well and good,” Corinne said, leaning forward, “but I’m more interested in hearing about what else the guy can do. I mean, how exactly does he plan to protect Daphanie? Aside from being huge and mean-looking and following her around like her shadow?”
Missy frowned in concentration. “I’m hardly an expert, but from what I can remember, Guardians do have certain powers of their own. Aside from the wings, of course.”
“Right,” Corinne said. “Because in a hairy situation, he could probably just scoop Daph up and fly her out of danger. Like Superman. Without the tights.”
The thought of Asher in skintight spandex flashed through Daphanie’s mind and made her draw in a deep breath. A very deep breath.
“They’re supposed to be able to identify people at a glance, first of all. Like, they can tell just by looking at someone for the first time if they’re human or Other, and even what kind of Other they might be—vampire, shifter, demon, what have you.”
Corinne nodded and made an encouraging gesture.
“I think, fundamentally, they view themselves as warriors, so they’re highly trained in combat, and I think I heard something about p
reternatural healing powers and unusual strength, comparable to a shifter, even. Also—don’t quote me on this, though—I think they can absorb a certain amount of harmful magic.”
“What do you mean?”
“Like, if someone sent some kind of magical arrow at a human under his protection, a Guardian could step in front and take the damage instead without being hurt as badly as the human would have been. But that might be part of the healing ability.” Missy paused, brow furrowed, lips pursed. “That’s really all I can remember. Like I said, there aren’t a lot of Guardians around, but the stories say that once one has taken a human under his protection, he’ll do whatever he has to in order to keep them safe.”
“Once a Guardian, always a Guardian.”
Daphanie turned in the direction of the door and saw a tall, obnoxiously handsome man with toffee-streaked hair standing in the archway. Behind him was an even better-looking man with dark hair and lightly bronzed skin. Even if she hadn’t already known both of them to be Others, she would have assumed it of both. Just like with her new brother-in-law, these two were much too gorgeous to be human.
“Hi, sweetie.” Missy smiled at the fairer of the two, her face taking on the kind of glow that Daphanie would have mocked if she weren’t so jealous. The woman’s love for her husband shone in her expression like a beacon. “Come join us. You didn’t tell me Rafe was coming over.”
“I dropped in unexpectedly,” said the dark-haired man as he crossed the room to take Missy’s hand in his. He raised it to his lips as if it were the most natural thing in the world to kiss the back of a woman’s hand like a character from a Jane Austen novel. “You’re looking lovely as always, Melissa. You really must leave your brute of a husband and run away with me. I would shower you with diamonds, as befits your radiance.”
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