“It’s okay, Mr. R.,” I said. “Everything will be okay, little man.” I just wished I could believe my own words.
Chapter Nine
Morning brought with it fresh air, and the thunderstorm had passed, disappearing around three in the morning. As tired as I was, I had found it difficult to sleep. Finally, as the storm abated, so did my anxiety and I dropped into a light slumber and then, fully to sleep.
I squinted as the alarm went off. It was eight forty-five. I forced myself to sit up, groaning against the morning light that streamed through the window. It looked like August was going to be typical—a day or so of rain, but mostly dry and sunny. It was generally Seattle’s hottest month of the year. At least the air smelled sweet and fresh, and there was a briskness that the storm had left in its wake.
I stumbled out of bed and went to the bathroom, then pulled on my robe and climbed back into the tangle of sheets. I stared at the bedframe for a moment, thinking I might want to buy a new one, but then it occurred to me that within a little over a year, Herne and I would be married. Maybe I should wait until we could choose one together.
Lost in the world of window-shopping for furniture, I didn’t notice the time was ticking by until Angel tapped on my door.
“Come in,” I said, shaking the thoughts of four-posters versus sleigh beds out of my mind.
Angel was still in her nightgown, too, but she was carrying an iced latte for me, and an iced tea for herself. She handed me the drink and motioned for me to scoot over. I saw that she was also carrying a bag of half a dozen doughnuts, along with a handful of napkins, so she must have been up early to go out. I held her drink as she climbed into bed, then flipped on the remote.
“Here’s hoping the news isn’t a mega-mess today,” I said.
“Here’s hoping the world isn’t a mega-mess today,” Angel answered.
She handed me a doughnut and took one for herself as I flipped around to find the local news station. A glance at the clock on my phone told me we had another three minutes before the press conference was due to be held. I muted it until the mayor came on.
“How did you sleep?” I asked.
Angel leaned back against the headboard. She was wearing a sleep shirt and a pair of pajama shorts, pale pink against her rich brown skin. “Okay, I guess. The storm was hard to ignore but when I did fall asleep, I slept deep.”
“I wish I had. I’m still groggier than a tranked elephant. Which is why I’m so grateful you brought the caffeine.” As I sipped the ice-cold latte, the announcement flashed on the station that the mayor would be speaking. I raised the volume.
A moment later, Mayor Neskan appeared on the screen. She was wearing a white pantsuit with a pale blue shirt beneath the blazer, and her hair was neatly pulled back into a tidy bun. She was wearing sunglasses, and looked every inch a successful, hip politician. She launched into her introduction, which we mostly ignored.
“Last night, there was an incident in Faraday Cemetery in the Worchester District. A full contingent of police officers along with members of the Wild Hunt Agency were battling a brigade of creatures called ‘vrykos.’ As reported, these are reanimated corpses. They are not—we repeat not—vampires. While most of the creatures were subdued, several vanished in a van with the license plate of B14DRC89C. That’s a white Toredoro van with a side-loading door and two doors in the back. Members of the community are urged to avoid this vehicle if you see it, and to immediately call the police.
“Meanwhile,” the mayor continued, “we must discuss a difficult situation. We have confirmation that the invasion of vrykos is spreading across the continent. We have some idea of why this is happening, but until we know for certain, we don’t want to spread unnecessary rumors. I’m joined today by Herne the Hunter from Annwn.” Her expression took on an almost dreamy look and I realized she was heavily in crush. I snickered.
“Yeah, she wants to jump his bones, that’s for sure.” I took a long swig of my drink.
“Does it bother you?” Angel asked.
“No. I trust Herne, and let’s face it, he’s a god and he’s gorgeous. If I got upset every time some girl or woman mooned over him, I’d be unhappy the rest of my life.”
Herne stepped up to the microphone. Several other members of the camera team backed away, as though they thought he might flatten them or something. He was handsome, yes. But he could also be intimidating when he chose to be.
“Lord Herne, what can you tell us about this situation?” Mayor Neskan turned to Herne.
“Just this: If you see one of the vrykos coming toward you, get the hell out of the way. They are dangerous. Their bite is as deadly as a Komodo dragon’s bite and the infection from their saliva is contagious. If you are bitten by one of these creatures, get away at all costs or you may forfeit your life. Immediately go to a hospital and tell them what happened.”
“What do the vrykos want?” the mayor asked.
Herne let out a sigh and he took the microphone from the mayor. He turned back to the cameras, his expression serious. “The vrykos themselves don’t have an objective—they are being controlled by forces beyond our ability to contain at this point. We will be working with members of the United Coalition to do our best to track down and destroy the vrykos, but we expect to miss a number of them, and the forces controlling them are probably going to continue to reanimate more of them. If you see one, run. When you are a safe distance away, phone the authorities. We need every citizen to be on their guard. I cannot stress how dangerous these creatures are. They will kill you if you get too close.”
“What about reports that someone saw a low-flying plane over Faraday Cemetery last night?” a member of the press corps asked.
Herne closed his eyes for a moment, then glanced at the mayor, who gave him a nod. “That was no plane. I will be discussing this with the United Coalition. Look for a statement within a week or so. Until then, please don’t feed into rumors. Unverified rumors and patently false information will only lead to harm. For now, please stay away from cemeteries. Keep alert. Again, if you encounter one of the vrykos, get away and alert the authorities. Thank you.”
He shook his head, refusing to answer any more questions. As the press hounded him, he followed a police guard through the crowd, out of sight. The mayor had a few closing remarks, but she was just reiterating what had been said before.
I turned off the television. “Well, that was uncomfortable. You know that wannabe ghost hunters and monster hunters are going to be heading toward the cemeteries in full force now.”
Angel leaned her head back and groaned. “You’re right. And that’s just going to cause more headaches for all of us.” She stretched, yawning. “All right, up and at ‘em. I’ll go make breakfast. Why don’t you take those bruises for another run under a hot shower? I can’t imagine how you feel this morning.”
I eased out of the other side of the bed as she stood, and slid off my robe. Angel and I were used to seeing each other naked and it didn’t faze us in the least.
“Look.” I turned, holding my arms out so she could see the array of bruises that covered my body.
“Damn, girl, you’re literally black and blue.” She shook her head. “Do you have anything Ferosyn might have given you? I know most human meds are off limits, even the topical ones.”
The Fae and shifters needed specialized medications. Most of us couldn’t take the drugs formulated for the human community. They either didn’t work, or they produced unwanted side effects, one of which could be death. Either way, they weren’t worth the risk.
“Yeah, I think I have some salve he gave me for muscle aches. I’ll use some after I shower. But man,” I said, looking in the mirror at the massive black-and-blue splotches across my body. “I look like the poster child for the clumsiest person on Earth.”
“Get into the water, woman. I’ll make waffles. We have enough time.”
“Don’t forget the—”
“Bacon,” she said, interrupting me. “Don�
�t worry. I won’t leave you dangling without your crispy pig.” But she was laughing as she headed out my door. She liked bacon just as much as I did, though I could easily eat a pound of it and she kept it down to six or seven rashers.
By the time we finished breakfast, it was ten-thirty. After making sure Mr. Rumblebutt had plenty of food, we headed out for work, taking both our cars in case something came up.
As I drove into the heart of the city, the sun broke through the high, thin clouds, burning them off. The storm had left the air clear and charged, and looking around at people going about their business as usual made Typhon and the vrykos feel a million miles away. Of course, I knew they weren’t, but I let myself drift in the feeling of hope for as long as I could.
I eased into the parking garage, finding a spot near the door. Angel was right behind me and parked three cars down. I waited for her before heading across and down the street to the office.
The Wild Hunt was located in downtown Seattle. Known as the Emerald City, Seattle was a complex organism, with vast swaths of greenery interspersed among the old brick buildings and the new chrome and glass. Some skyscrapers looked like mile-high mirrors. Their windows were reflective. I found it a wonder that, on the few hot days we had in Seattle, the glass didn’t reflect a beam somewhere to start a fire.
The city was a mixture of old and new. Red brick walkups mingled with modern concrete. Residential zones hopscotched with businesses and mini-malls. The UW—the University of Washington—formed its own district, adding to the kaleidoscope that was the city. There was a buzz to Seattle, a busy-ness that was wired on coffee and high tech. But beneath the surface, Seattle had its dark, seedy sides. For one thing, the city was home to the Catacombs.
During the early days of the city, a fire had raged through, burning a great swath of it to the ground. As rebuilding advanced, the planners had decided that old Seattle was too low—well below sea level. Indeed, it was often flooded by high tides on Puget Sound. So new buildings were built on streets that covered the remains of old buildings below.
Underground Seattle still existed in the dark and gloom that came from being entombed. But what most of the residents back then hadn’t realized was that the vampires had gotten there first. The vamps had built catacombs below the ground. Once the surface of the streets had been raised, the vampires broke into Underground Seattle and claimed it as part of their territory. Now the entire underground structure was simply called the Catacombs.
The Wild Hunt Agency was downtown, on First Avenue, a wide street lined with trees. The brownstone walkup was five stories high, with both a series of steps and a ramp leading up to the main floor. The first floor was made up of the lobby and the urgent care clinic that catered to Cryptos and to the streeps in the area—the street people.
The second floor was a combined daycare and preschool for low-income families. On the third floor, a yoga and dance studio held their lessons. The fourth floor was ours—the Wild Hunt. And the fifth had recently been rented by the Stone & Needle, offering chiropractic services, acupuncture, a nutritionist, and several massage therapists. Unlike the brothels along the other side of the street, they actually did offer massage.
Across the street, delis and vintage shops intermingled with the fetish boutiques, where you could find specialized kink in just about any flavor you chose, running the gamut from vanilla to chocolate to rocky road, depending on how bent your tastes ran.
Angel and I strolled along the street, greeting the streeps as we went.
I was grateful to see that Pain and Shayla were no longer around. A young couple, they had been living in a cardboard box. But Shayla had been pregnant, and Pain wanted to do better for her and the baby, so we had hooked them up with a shelter where Shayla could stay while he continued to look for a job. A few weeks ago, Pain had contacted me to let me know he had found a good job. They could afford an apartment of their own. As I watched the jugglers and buskers on the street corner, I could only hope they would manage to keep the gains they had found.
As if reading my mind, Angel said, “I heard from Pain last week. Shayla had her baby. They found an apartment and he’s doing really well at his job. I’m cautiously optimistic that they’ll manage to pull themselves out of their old life.”
“That makes me happy,” I said. “And I can use happy news. The day seems so bright, and everything seems so normal that it’s hard to remember what we’re facing. And truth be known, I don’t want to remember it.”
Angel slid her arm through mine as we headed toward the stairs leading up to the agency. “Ember, one thing I’ve learned through all that’s happened, is sometimes you just have to go about your daily routine even though it feels like everything’s fallen out from under you.”
“Yeah, it’s not easy, but you’re right.”
“When Mama J. died, I really didn’t want to deal with all the fallout. But I had to put a roof over our heads and food on the table and keep DJ going. So I did what I had to. I got up in the morning, I sent DJ to school, and I went to work. I couldn’t think about my mother too much because so many things were weighing on my shoulders.”
I nodded. When my parents had been murdered, I wanted to curl up in a ball in the closet and stay there. But I couldn’t. Mama J. had offered to take me in, so I had picked myself up and continued my life, even through the pain.
“So, buck up, smell the roses, and deal with life as it comes?”
Her eyes twinkled. “Something like that.”
We were at the bottom of the steps, and we dashed up to the door. Inside the building, there was an elevator to the right, a few yards before the door leading into the urgent care clinic. We opted for the elevator and I pushed the button for the fourth floor.
The doors opened into the waiting room, which meant that someone had made it to work before we did. If the doors hadn’t opened, Angel would have had to use her key to unlock the stop at the fourth floor.
Angel headed to her circular desk directly across from the elevator. To the right was the seating area for clients. Directly behind Angel’s desk was Herne’s office door, and the hallway behind her desk led to the break room and the rest of our offices.
There were sounds coming from the break room, so I headed down to see who was there while Angel settled in at her desk and checked for any messages.
Herne and Talia were in the break room, talking.
Talia waved her hand to the counter where a fruit tray, a cookie platter, and the coffee awaited. “I brought snacks,” she said. “How are you doing this morning?”
“The extra sleep helped.” I eyed the goodies and decided that one waffle and bacon for breakfast hadn’t been quite enough. The Fae had faster metabolisms than humans, and our appetites showed it. As I loaded up cookies and fruit salad onto a paper plate, Yutani, Viktor, and Rafé joined us. Angel was last.
“The elevator is locked and I armed the bell outside the stairs so we’ll hear if anybody wants in that way.” She fixed herself a cup of tea and we all gathered around the table.
Herne was just about to bring the meeting to order when my work phone rang—we all had two phones, our personal cells and our work cells. This helped avoid any clients getting hold of our private numbers. I pulled it out, frowning, and glanced at the caller ID.
Ashera.
“Whoa…I need to take this.” I jumped up from the table and walked over to the counter so they could keep on talking. “Hello?”
Ashera answered, her voice low and sensuous. She was a blue dragon—one of the Celestial Wanderers. The Dragonni were divided into several types. The Celestial Wanderers were the blue, silver, and gold dragons. They were generally friendly to mortal-kind. The Mountain Dreamers were also human-friendly, and they were made up of the green and black dragons. But the Luminous Warriors took after their father, Typhon. The white, red, and shadow dragons had little use for any form other than dragon. They were the ones who we had to worry about at this point.
Ashera had helped
us out when Pandora kidnapped Raven, and she was currently living over on Bainbridge Island with several other dragons who were determined to keep their father from destroying the world.
“Ember, we’ve heard about the vrykos, of course. You know that this is Typhon’s doing.”
“Yes, we figured as much.”
“Well, I was planning on coming over to talk to your agency tomorrow at four, if that’s convenient. I have some information that you’ll want, but it’s not something I’m comfortable talking about over the phone.” She paused, waiting.
“Let me talk to Herne and make sure we aren’t already booked.” I turned to Herne. “Ashera wants to meet with us tomorrow at four, here.”
He looked up from where he had been poring through an article on his tablet. “Angel, we don’t have any appointments then, do we?”
Angel checked her tablet and shook her head. “All clear. Shall I put her down?”
“Yeah, do,” I said, returning to my phone. “Ashera, we’ll see you here at four p.m. Thanks. By the way, I was thinking we needed to run something by you that we saw last night during a fight in a graveyard.”
“I think I know what it is, and we’ll talk tomorrow. Meanwhile, tread carefully. I can’t say more than that, but tomorrow—I’ll tell you everything.” And with that, she disconnected.
My stomach knotted as I stared at the phone. The very tone of her voice had chilled me to the core. I knew—as sure as I knew my name—that it had to do with the dragon we had seen flying overhead. A shadow seemed to fall across the room, and suddenly the sunshine outside seemed too harsh. The brighter the sun, the darker the shadow, I thought.
Chapter Ten
After I told the others what Ashera had said, the speculations flew high and thick. Herne listened for a few minutes then put his fingers to his mouth and whistled the meeting back to order.
“We’ll find out tomorrow exactly what she means, but for now, back to business. So, I want to go over this morning, first, and then we’ll talk about what happened last night. Today, Jana Wildmere arrives at four to discuss forming a Shifter Alliance militia.” He gently tossed his tablet on the table. “First, about the parley with Névé and Saílle.”
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