I darted away as he thrust out his palms and a lick of flame shot toward me. Dodging the fire by mere inches, the heat singed me as the column of fire passed by. Now I had the upper hand. I took advantage of his position, bringing Lysanthra down across his forearms. He screamed as I slashed long gashes across both arms and, as he staggered back, I pressed on to drive Lysanthra into his chest, through a gap in his leather jerkin.
The goblin fel back, yanking me along as I held on to my dagger. I landed atop him and promptly slid the blade out of his body. His eyes were flickering-
-I could stil see life--and grimly, I brought my blade across his throat, severing from side to side. Confident he was dead, I leapt up to gauge my position.
Camil e and Morio were spreading something through the goblins--I could tel that much, though I wasn't sure just what they were doing. A web, a net of shadow seemed to be gliding over a group of five of them, dark and thick, oozing like poison. The goblins stared at my sister and her husband, petrified.
The looks on their faces shook me, and I wondered what the hel Camil e and Morio were up to. But there wasn't time for more than a fleeting thought.
Smoky had downed another two and was onto another.
I turned to the next and tapped my blade against my thigh. "Come on, boy, let's get it on."
He said something in Calouk, but I didn't bother trying to translate. I raced toward him ful -tilt with a loud shriek. The goblin swung to meet me, his short sword parrying my attack.
Our blades whistled, singing as they cut through the air. I managed to deflect his blows each time, but he was getting the upper hand.
Just then, a noise startled me, and I turned to see a goblin who'd been hiding behind a tipped-over table careening my way, his serrated blade outstretched. I threw Lysanthra at him and dove out of the way. As he stumbled past, my blade lodged in his stomach.
I whirled and gave him a massive kick on his backside. He went plummeting to the ground, driving my dagger through him.
The smel of blood was thick and nasty as I quickly kicked him over and grabbed the hilt of my blade, yanking it out of his body. Turning, I was just in time to meet another goblin, but his blade was already whistling down. As I ducked, trying to rol out of the way, I heard the clang of metal against metal, and for a moment, found myself staring at eyes gleaming at me, out of a dark shadow. The goblin's blade had been deflected before it could reach me and, with a grunt, he fel to the ground, bleeding from the heart.
I scrambled up, startled, feeling a rush of chil wind pass by, the scent of graveyards and bonfires riding high on it. Hi'ran? His energy lingered around me, a comforting embrace, and yet . . . and yet . . . it was not him. I whirled toward the dark cloud, but in that moment, it dissipated.
"What the . . . who are you?" I shouted at the vanishing shadow, but it was gone, as if it had never been.
"What did you say, Kitten?" Camil e's voice sliced through my thoughts.
I wiped my blade on the dead goblin's tunic, realizing the room had become silent around us. Camil e, Smoky, Morio, and I were the only ones standing.
The air reeked of blood and death, and a shiver ran down my back. I wavered a moment, feeling Panther rise. She wanted to hunt, to join the fight, to fol ow whoever it was who had kil ed the last goblin, but there was no one left for her to battle. I pushed the desire down, whispering to myself, soothing the big cat trapped within.
As the others joined me, I saw that Smoky, in his white and pale blue, was spotless as usual. Morio and Camil e were as blood-spattered as I was.
"Aren't we al just a delightful mess?" I asked, glancing at them. "Except you, Dragon Boy. Someday you have to tel us your secret. You're family now."
He merely grinned.
Morio slid his arm around Camil e's waist. "At least we took care of this mess."
Camil e nodded but glanced at me. "Who were you talking to a minute ago?"
Kicking the goblin, I shrugged. "I . . . don't know." For some reason I couldn't bring myself to talk about it. "Let's go see if the others need us."
Smoky frowned. "I suggest we advise Exo Reed to dispose of the bodies. Permanently. Lately the undead seem to have had a thing for Seattle, and we don't want a bunch of goblin zombies--or worse--running around."
"Reanimation," Morio said. He glanced at Camil e. "Not that we'd know anything about that."
She stifled a laugh that sounded mildly hysterical, and we headed out of the room. Exo was standing there beside Chase, who gave me a tight smile.
"Al done," I said. "Exo, you'd better burn those bodies unless you want trouble. Don't chance them ending up on their feet again. Ash them."
The werewolf nodded, his face serious behind the Elton John glasses he'd taken to wearing. "I'l cal my cousin. He's got space on his land for a bonfire." He glanced at the double doors. "I guess it's too much to hope that the room's in one piece."
I stared at him, feeling sorry for the hotel owner. He was just trying to do his job. Goblin invasion had not been on the menu. But my thoughts kept running back to the strange shadow who had saved my life. Who the hel had it been, if it wasn't Hi'ran?
"Um . . . no. I'm sorry. Not a chance."
He sighed. "I didn't think so."
A noise on the stairwel announced Menol y, Roz, and Vanzir as they came trooping down the steps. They were covered with blood, and Menol y's mouth was slick with the red stuff. Looked like she'd had an after-dinner snack. Or maybe it was her dinner. It was then that I noticed she was dragging somebody behind her. One of the two Tregarts--al trussed up and nowhere to go.
"You captured one? You think they have any information worth knowing?" Camil e hurried over to her.
Menol y grinned, her smile al too scary. "Who knows? But I'm going to find out."
I turned to Chase, who was gazing at me, looking . . . somewhere between lost and angry. "Looks like we're done here," I said. Then, because I couldn't stop myself, I added, "Won't you come back home with me? It's been so long . . ."
He chewed on his lip, which was looking terribly chapped. After a moment, he shrugged. "I suppose we should talk." He didn't look overjoyed.
Keeping my hurt feelings to myself, I forced a smile. Enthusiastic much. Not. But best to keep my mouth shut. I glanced over at the others. They were trundling the demon out to Menol y's car. I turned back to Chase. "Are you going to ride with me or--"
"I'l fol ow in my car," he said abruptly. "Just in case . . . you know, I get a cal or need to leave or something."
"Yeah, fine." Again, I forced a smile and leaned in for a kiss, but he turned his head, and my lips slid off his cheek. I headed out to my Jeep.
Menol y took the demon down to the Wayfarer. She, Vanzir, and Rozurial told the rest of us to go straight home.
"We'l find out anything he has to say. Don't wait up." Her eyes were frosty gray, and I took one look at her set jaw and nodded.
I knew that no sounds would penetrate out of that little safe room we had hidden there, and no magic could make it in or out, no demon or anything else could teleport through the barriers. It was our end-of-the-world room, essential y. And once in there, with Menol y and Vanzir especial y, the Tregart would give up his secrets.
I arrived home before Chase and rushed up to my room, where I swept al the dirty laundry into the closet, made sure my kitty box was clean so it didn't stink up the place, and stripped off the bloody clothes. I tossed them. Blood and skunk pretty much guaranteed their demise.
Hopping in the shower, I hosed myself off and then decided to sacrifice a Victoria's secret forest green chemise. It had lace around the bust, and even though I wasn't anywhere near Camil e's size, I fil ed it out nicely.
I wandered over to the window, staring out into the blustery night. Maybe once we were alone, in bed, Chase would loosen up, lose some of the worry that had been plaguing him. Maybe he'd reach out to me. Or let me reach out to him.
Leaning back against the headboard, I pul ed the blanket up to my neck. The room was chil y, but I loved it. My bedroom was normal y a mess--I ful y admitted to being a slob--but it had charm. I'd fil ed it with cat toys and Hel o Kitty posters and stacks of magazines and my computer desk where I spent a lot of my time poring over the Net. I'd bought a personal TV but stil preferred watching my shows downstairs where I usual y could snag Menol y or Camil e into joining me.
My hair felt odd, and I shook my head, again wondering at how light and angular the new cut made me feel. And what would Chase think of it, when he had time to real y look at me? What would he think of my tattoos?
Strangely enough, I realized I wasn't too concerned. If he didn't like them, it wasn't the end of the world. My hair would grow back. And maybe I'd decide to keep it like this. Or maybe I'd grow it long again, like it had been when I was younger. And the tattoos were already a part of me, delineating my cal ing.
They were here to stay and it felt like they'd always been there.
After awhile, I heard a car outside and caught my breath. I peeked out the window, and sure enough, there was Chase. He was staring up at the house, hands in pockets, standing next to his SUV. The look on his face was pensive.
After a good five minutes, he began to move toward the porch, and I backed away from the window. Iris was stil up, making soup for the next day, and she'd let him in.
As I waited for the doorbel , I ran through the possible scenarios in my mind. Chase would come up, and everything would work out--the tension would melt away, and he'd take me in his arms and we'd make love.
Or maybe . . . he'd be too nervous and push me away. Or he'd find me unattractive, my hair and--oh gods, the skunk stench! I stil smel ed like skunk. I'd grown accustomed to it over the evening, but now, horrified, I realized that Chase was going to walk through that door, and I'd smel like rotten eggs. What the fuck to do?
And then there was a tap on my door, and it opened slightly. Chase peeked through, and I forgot everything--hair, skunk, al the tension of the past month, and rushed into his arms, crying.
CHAPTER 5
"Delilah--what's wrong? Why are you crying? What's . . . what's that smell?" Chase kissed my nose chastely, then pushed me back to stare in my eyes.
We were the same height, which made it pretty nice when we needed to have heart-to-hearts. Though we hadn't been doing much of that for the past month.
I stared at him. How to start? How to say, What the fuck has been going on with you? without sounding accusatory? I stepped back, and he gingerly sat on the edge of the bed.
"I smel like skunk. I got skunked. That's what happened to my hair, too. Iris tried to wash me in tomato juice in cat form and the juice dyed it . . . bad.
Then we tried a peroxide formula to get the scent out and it made it worse. So I told her to punk me. The cut wil grow out faster, and we'l be able to trim the bad color off easier. Do you hate it?"
For the first time in a long while, he laughed. "Oh Delilah, leave it to you. No, I don't hate your hair--it's different but kind of pretty. Edgy, I'd cal it." He stopped. "But what's going on with your arms?"
"I had my first lesson with another Death Maiden tonight. These are the results. They'l darken and change as I go along."
"Then I was right," he said softly.
"Right about what?"
Chase shook his head. "Never mind. Leave it for now. They're pretty. Lovely, real y. You are growing more and more into your father's side of the family, aren't you?" Before I could answer, he continued, "I'm sorry about the skunk, but the smel wil go away, won't it?"
"Luke--from the Wayfarer--has a deodorizer he's going to give me, and that should take care of the problem. Won't bring my hair back, but what the hel ." I flashed him a slow smile. Now that I'd gotten him to laugh, maybe the tension would back off. "So, do I smel bad enough that you don't want to touch me?"
He frowned. "No . . . no . . . though I don't dare get that scent on this suit. Too expensive." He paused, then added, "Oh hel . I'm sorry, Delilah. You deserve an explanation for why I've been so aloof . . ."
My heart caught in my throat. If he's been lying to me again . . .
"Is Erika back?" I whispered.
He looked up at me slowly, then shook his head. "No, she's not. And I haven't been sleeping around. I wouldn't lie to you again. But we need to talk. We promised to be honest with each other."
The look in his eyes made me want to cry. Haunted, alone, nervous--I could read him like a book. But there was something else, something that I couldn't pin down. And I had a strong feeling I wasn't going to like what he had to say.
"What is it? What's going on?"
Fumbling with the hem of his jacket, he shook his head.
"You know I've been going through al this stuff, trying to sort out what's happening to my life, right? But what you--and your sisters--don't know is that the Nectar of Life opened me up. I'm feeling things, sensing things on such an intense level that I don't know how to deal with them. It's like a door opened up, and I stepped into a whole new world. Sharah says that the potion catalyzed my psychic senses and that I'm starting to evolve some sort of power. She thinks I'm going to end up a pretty strong psychic."
Whoa. I hadn't expected to hear this, and part of me was hurt that he hadn't come to me with it first, but I pushed away the feeling. At least he'd gone to somebody with it instead of hiding it. Crossing to his side, I sat next to him and took his hand in mine.
"I don't know what to say. Camil e speculated this might happen--she's sensed something in you over the years. A glimmer of power . . . we just have no idea where you got it from. Maybe your parents or grandparents?"
