Harvest Hunting

by Galenorn, Yasmine

  “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.”

  Her eyes lit up and I thought she was going to cry, and I knew I’d done the right thing. Inside, whispering in my ear, I could hear the boreal wind and on it, Hi’ran whispered, “Don’t fret, my love. You’ll never be alone.” And then he fell silent again. I gave her a sad smile.

  “I’m going to miss having him around the house as much, but sometimes, no matter how much you love someone, it’s just not going to work.”

  “Yes, I know that.” Sharah glanced up at me. “I left someone back in Elqaneve for that very reason. He was . . . too set in his ways. He disapproved of my assignment to come Earthside—he wanted me to stay home and make babies. And I couldn’t do that, even though I loved him.”

  As I sat back and gave her a smile, the pensiveness left her face in a sudden wash, and I saw a woman sitting there who might really be able to make my detective happy. Sharah was safe enough for him, she was stoic and strong-willed, but she wouldn’t constantly make him feel like he was running to keep up, like he was compromising himself for his love.

  “So,” I said after a moment. “Shall we go see how my sister is doing?”

  And with that, our discussion was over, and my future with Chase was settled and history.

  Before heading back to the medic unit, I dropped in to Dispatch.

  “Chase around?” I wasn’t about to tell him what I’d discussed with Sharah, but I wanted to bring him up to speed on Van and Jaycee.

  “No,” Yugi said. “There’s been some sort of explosion at one of the magical shops, and he headed out on the call.”

  Suddenly feeling chilled, I asked, “Which one?”

  Yugi consulted his clipboard. “Madame Pompey’s Magical Emporium. Looks like somebody totally trashed the place.”

  Crap—so that’s where Smoky had been off to. I decided to keep my mouth shut. No good getting the dragon pissed at me. Especially when he was defending his wife.

  Instead, I asked, “I was wondering if Andy Gambit decided to press charges against me?” Might as well kill two birds with one stone, I thought.

  Yugi shook his head. “Don’t worry about him pressing charges—my men had a little talk with him when we hauled his ass away from your house. But, Delilah, you know he’s going to make a hash out of this in the Seattle Tattler. That rag’s going to mop you up like a sponge.”

  Grimacing, I nodded. He was right, meaning I’d better double-check when next week’s issue hit the mailbox. We subscribed just to keep tabs on what the freak was up to. Usually he was taking potshots at Camille, but this time I knew I’d be on the menu.

  “Thanks, Yugi. Tell Chase . . . just tell him I said hello, would you?”

  He nodded, and I took off to see how Camille was doing. By the time I got there, she was sitting up, looking a little worse for wear. Her skin looked like she’d tried to shave and nicked herself in a hundred places.

  “Maybe Roz’s wonder salve can prevent scarring?” I winced as I saw the pile of shards and slivers sitting in the tray next to the table. “Crap, that’s nasty. Did they get it all?”

  “We think so,” Mallen said. “In the end, I resorted to calling in one of the healers who could charm some of the fragments out—she was getting too sore to use the tweezers anymore. We’ve put a special ointment on that should take care of most of the healing and leave no marks, but there are a couple places we had to stitch up. No taking a bath for two days and no picking at scabs!”

  As we headed out, Sharah smiled and waved. Her eyes sparkled, and for the first time in weeks, I felt at peace about Chase and me as Camille and I headed out to the car.

  CHAPTER 17

  By the time we got home, everybody else was there and gathered in the kitchen. It had become our usual hangout for planning strategy. Nerissa was absent—she’d had to go home after her mini-vacation with Menolly, but everybody else was sitting around, drinking tea, eating cookies and chips and whatever else Iris had managed to find for snack time.

  I looked over at Smoky, a faint grin on my face, as Camille settled in between him and Trillian. Morio sat to Trillian’s left.

  “What?” Smoky cleared his throat, cocking his head to one side. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “I just got wind that a certain magical shop was trashed. Thoroughly.” I met his stare. “Did you leave evidence?”

  He snorted. “Do I look stupid?”

  I wasn’t going to answer that. A—he didn’t look stupid, he was probably one of the hottest dragons around. B—even if he did, you don’t tell a dragon you think they look stupid.

  Camille looked from him to me. “What’s going on?”

  “Your husband took out the magic shop. Van and Jaycee are going to be so pissed. I have the feeling Stacia didn’t have them open it just to snag us in. Looked like a good way to establish a foothold here. Now, there’s not much left but one big junk heap of shelves, bottles, and merchandise.”

  Camille turned to Smoky. “Cripes, what am I going to do with you? They’re going to know we did it—all the more reason for Stacia to up the bounty to dead or alive.”

  “Which reminds me,” Iris said, “have you thought about hiring a few guards for the house? When you’re all home, everything is dandy, but during the day, when you’re out, with just Maggie and myself here—and Menolly asleep—we’re perfect targets. And I don’t mind helping out, I don’t mind fighting in this war, but it would seem a wise precaution.”

  “I’ll get on it,” Camille said, jotting down a note on her steno pad.

  I covered my ears and rested my head on the table, not wanting to think about all the crap we were facing. After a moment, a hand ran down my back, patting me lightly. I looked up, glaring, and found Roz staring down at me, a soft smile on his face.

  “Too much?”

  I nodded. “Too much of everything. The past few days have been insane. The only good thing that’s come out of it has been Camille’s wedding.” As I glanced over, staring at her sitting with her husbands, a thought occurred to me.

  “Smoky! You could solve one of our minor problems for us.” I beamed at him. “Make your sister-in-law happy, would you?”

  “How so?” He looked worried. “You don’t want me to start catching game for the house or anything, do you? Because dragon-scorched meat doesn’t taste so good to humans and their ilk.”

  “That steak you caught me when I first came to your barrow was delicious, sweetheart.” Camille patted his hand. “He’s lying—his game is always prime choice—”

  “Oh for Pete’s sake . . . no, I am not asking you to play mighty hunter. But Camille and I promised a dryad we’d find her another home—one with more wild land she could spread out on. What say we turn her loose on your land?”

  Camille stared at me. “You’re right—that would be perfect!”

  “Hold on—both of you. What are you up to now, and what sort of creature do you want to turn loose on my land? I just got rid of Titania and that insufferable Morgaine.” Smoky looked ready to take a belligerent stance on the subject.

  “She’s not a Fae Queen, she’s just a dryad looking for a wilder place than Rodgers Park. You could make her happy—and help us fulfill our promise.” I snickered as Camille grinned and lightly rubbed her hand along his arm.

  “Smoky, love, it would make me so grateful if you’d do this,” she said.

  Smoky let out a low rumble that sounded all too much like a growl and gazed at her hand. “You aren’t above bribing me, are you?” he asked, his voice husky. The glacial chill of his eyes swam in a whirl of ice floes and ocean mist. Camille leaned in and kissed him, her lips lingering over his. After a moment, she pulled away, wincing.


  “Damn these cuts . . .”

  “My love, you never have to hurt yourself to ask a favor from me,” he said, wrapping his hand around hers and holding it against his shoulder. He turned back to me. “You have your wish, as long as the Fae understands it’s my territory, and she’s a guest there. You may take her there whenever you like. Also: I’ve insured that Georgio and Estelle are taken care of by . . . a couple of my friends. Warn the dryad not to come close to the house.”

  “Trust me, Bluebell isn’t like Wisteria was. That veg-head was a freak.” The floraed—an offshoot of the dryads—had been out to kill anybody who stood in the way of wiping out humanity so the plants could take over the world again.

  Which brought up thoughts of the demons and the spirit seals. Again. “Trillian, Vanzir, Morio—what did you find out about the address Marion gave us for the coyote shifters?”

  Morio pulled out a digital camera and handed it to me. “Can you download these pictures? We thought it might be easier than just going by description.”

  I grinned at him. “Geek boy! I’ll teach you yet.”

  Pulling out my laptop, I fired it up. As they continued to chat, I plugged in the USB cable to one of my ports on the laptop, then into the camera and punched the “On” button. We’d picked up several cameras of the same type so we’d only have to deal with one brand of software, and kept one at the house, one in each of our cars, and one stayed in Morio’s SUV. I was determined that we’d learn to use technology along with our innate magic—it would be the only way we could survive in this society.

  As the pictures downloaded, I motioned to Iris. “How long till sundown?”

  She glanced at the chart we had tacked up on the wall. “Another two hours—shortly after five. In a week or so, we’ll be switching back out of daylight saving time, and she’ll be able to get up an hour earlier.”

  “Then maybe we’d better get some rest. As soon as I finish downloading the photos, we’ll take a nap, then go over them when we get up. Menolly will be awake then.”