Crimson Veil (Otherworld/Sisters of the Moon #15)

Crimson Veil (Otherworld/Sisters of the Moon #15) Page 8

He ran out of steam, his words stopping like a train that had suddenly put on the brakes. Chase didn’t usually talk that fast, and I realized he was nervous.

“We’ll be there ASAP. You want me to call Iris and tell her you’re probably going to be late tonight?”

The sound of relief swept through his voice. “Thanks. Tell her to give Astrid a kiss for me, would you?” He sounded lonely, and I realized just how devoted a father he was going to be.

“Will do. Now hang up, and we’ll be there as soon as we can.” As I replaced the receiver, I whirled around. “The Utopia is burning. And signs of ghostly activity have been seen there this afternoon. That doesn’t mean there’s a connection, but we can’t know that till we’re actually there. Who do we have on hand?”

Camille had paled, her skin a stark white next to the black of her corset. “Delilah and Shade are upstairs—she took your Jag to Jason’s. He checked it out and said that for now, it will run okay. He’s swamped so bring it in next week. It’s out in the yard, but why don’t you ride with us? Vanzir is out in the studio with Father’s body, and Shamas is still at work. Morio’s in town and Nerissa isn’t home yet.”

“We’re down, bad. We can’t leave the house unguarded. Vanzir has to stay here. Even with Hanna to watch after Maggie, we can’t chance Iris being alone at her house. Bruce is still at work, too.” I didn’t like this. For a while it felt as if we had too many people in the house, and now we didn’t have enough.

“I have an idea. I don’t like it but I’m willing to deal with him.” Camille sneered slightly and I knew immediately who she was talking about.

“You’ll be willing to work with Bran?”

“I don’t think I have a choice, do I?” She headed toward the kitchen door. “You get Delilah and Shade, and tell Vanzir to watch the house with Hanna. I’ll go get… Bran.” And she was out the door, not even stopping to grab a jacket.

I dashed up the stairs. Camille detested Bran. He was the son of the Black Unicorn and Raven Mother, and my sister had taken an instant dislike to the man. Neither Elemental Lord—greater or lesser—nor truly Fae, Bran stood between worlds, much like the Elder Fae. It didn’t help that Camille had killed his father, even though it had been her destiny and the Black Unicorn’s choosing. Even after the Black Unicorn was reborn, it seemed that Bran nurtured a grudge. Or maybe it was something else.

I’d caught him staring at Camille more than once over the past few days, and the look on his face unsettled me. If Smoky had been here to notice the look, he would have backhanded the man into the Ionyc Seas. It wasn’t desire—not fully—but a desire to possess and tear down. And I was pretty sure Camille knew about it, though she kept her mouth shut.

She walked on slippery ground with Bran. He was leader of the Earthside Fae militia now, and he was the son of Immortals. You didn’t mess with beings of that magnitude, not if you wanted to live.

Shade and Delilah were in Kitten’s playroom, where her kitty condo and bed and toys were. A sofa stretched under a window so she could curl up on the back when we had the rare sunbeams creeping through the windows. Now, she was racing around like a maniac, all four paws skidding across the polished floor. Shade was curled up in a recliner, reading, trying to ignore Delilah’s taunting him. I stood at the door for a moment, watching as she raced by and leaped in the air, grabbing the toe of his boot, swinging on it before dropping back to the floor and taking off in the opposite direction.

Wishing I could let them be and not intrude, I cleared my throat.

Shade looked up, and at my expression, he barked out a stiff, “Delilah. We need you.”

She swiveled to look at me, and for a moment, a fleeting look of resignation passed through her eyes, but then, she padded over to the sofa, and a moment later, a shimmer in the air proceeded her transformation. Within another minute, she was standing in front of me, dressed in her pajamas.

“I’m afraid you need to get dressed, stat. Chase called. There’s an emergency.” I turned to go, then paused. “Don’t wear anything too flammable. The Utopia’s on fire, and while they’re putting out the flames now, I have a feeling we’re going to be sifting through the ruins looking for ghosts.”

“Ghosts?” Her face fell. “What the fuck are ghosts doing in a vampire club?”

“I don’t know. That’s what we’re going to find out. But there were reports of heavy magical activity there this afternoon. So get a move on, Kitten, and meet us downstairs.” I turned to leave, but Shade moved to my side, laying a gentle hand on my shoulder. He was so quick that I didn’t even see the blur. Dragons—especially shadow dragons—were good at that.

“Are you girls able to focus tonight, given what has happened?” He gazed down at me, his rugged jaw set firmly in a faint smile. A craggy scar marred one side of his face, but it only gave him a tougher, darker look, a dark line against the glowing coffee of his skin.

I held his gaze. “Why ask me? Why not ask Delilah? I’m the one who…” But I couldn’t finish it. I couldn’t finish the sentence. My throat seized up and the words would not come.

“Because Delilah and Camille, they grieve openly. You hide your sorrow, you hide your pain like the wounded animal you once were. I know you open up around Nerissa, but your sisters need to know that Sephreh’s death was more than a blip in the road to you. If you don’t show them this side of yourself, Menolly, you’ll drive them away. Perhaps not now, perhaps not tomorrow, but in the near future, when the shock has worn away, they’ll look at you and only see the tough exterior that hides the loss you feel.”

My first reaction was that I wanted to hit him, to smack him back. The words How dare you say this to me? formed on my lips, but I left them unsaid. Because truth was, if I said anything at all, the sorrow I’d cried out last night would return. And right now, I couldn’t afford to feel the pain.

“Yeah, well… right now I’m afraid I don’t have that luxury. But Shade…” I paused, not sure of how much to say.

“Feel free. Tell me off, tell me what you think of my advice. I can take it.” His eyes flashed and only a deep warmth, a dark compassion, rested there.

I worried my lip for a moment. “I know you mean well. But right now, there’s no time for this. I won’t ignore what you said, though. That’s the best I can promise for now.”

With a nod, he moved back. Delilah entered the room then, pulling her sweater over her head. She glanced at him, then at me, then at Shade again.

“Something going on I should know about? A spat?” The look in her eyes was darker than I’d seen before, not jealous but… cautious.

Wondering where that was coming from, I shook my head. “Not at all. Shade was just expressing concern over my bar. And I thanked him but reassured him, I have things under control.” I held his gaze a moment longer, challenging him to contradict me. But he just turned away to grab his brown leather calf-length duster, and then followed me out the door, Delilah on his heels.

Downstairs, Camille was waiting, Bran by her side. Neither looked happy about it, but they were there, Bran with his usual smirk that made me want to rub his face into the ground.

“We’re ready?” was all she said.

I nodded. “Let’s head out. You talked to Vanzir?”

“He’s keeping watch here with Hanna. And I called Morio. He’ll meet us at the Utopia Club.” She swept out the door. “Bran, you can ride with Delilah and Shade—”

“I prefer to ride with you.” His voice was soft, but firm, and I could tell there was no room for disagreement.

Camille rankled, but said nothing, merely headed toward her car. I followed, deciding to give my Jag a rest, and to hopefully prevent bloodshed.

“I’m going with you. I don’t want to chance the Jag.” I pushed past Bran. “I call shotgun.”

Camille gave me a grateful look. Bran let out an exasperated laugh, but there was no humor behind it. He shrugged and climbed into the back of the Lexus. As I slid into the passenger seat, I glanced over my shoulder at him and gave him a wicked, fang-filled grin. Let him chew on that one for a while.

We took off, followed by Delilah and Shade in her Jeep. I wanted to talk to Camille, strategize a bit, but Bran’s presence put an unnatural strain on both of us and I found myself picking up her suspicion of the guy. He was gorgeous—pale as alabaster with long dark hair that he kept pulled back in a ponytail, and his eyes were shimmering pools that beckoned with a welcome that promised both passion and fear. He was built, but not rippling in the muscle department.

But the qualities that struck me the most were (a) his brilliant lips—he looked almost as though he were wearing lipstick, but it was a product of his breeding, and (b) the man oozed magnetism. Whether it was good or not, I wouldn’t lay odds, but magnetism it was, stronger by far than any Fae glamour I’d ever been around.

As I watched him through the rearview mirror, I began to notice his fixation on Camille. He watched her intently, like a bird watching a shiny object. But it wasn’t a leer. He didn’t feel particularly lecherous, though I did sense a deep and vibrant passion below the surface that was probably better left untapped, given the circumstances. No, this was more… need. As if he was trying to quench his thirst by looking at her.

We were used to men going nuts over her boobs and curves—that was par for the course and it didn’t bother her, nor did it bother Delilah or me. But this was something different and it gave me the creeps. I wondered if she’d noticed it, or if it had escaped her attention. But ten to one, this was what unsettled her around him and caused the sparks.

I decided to do a little prying. “So, Bran, are you engaged? Do you have a girl back home in Darkynwyrd?”

The look Camille shot me was priceless and I tried not to laugh. She gripped the steering wheel and I had the feeling I’d be in for it once we were alone, but for now, I wanted to see what kind of reaction I’d get.

Apparently, Bran didn’t find the question engaging. He gave me a cool look. “No.”

The clip of his words made me snarly. I was already a little wired from my discussion with Shade, but at least he meant well and wanted the best for us. Bran here was another matter. I was beginning to adopt Camille’s dislike of the man.

“How about a guy?” Let’s just see the fur fly on that one, I thought.

Bran leaned forward as far as the seat belt would allow. “I’m not into vampires, thank you for asking.” I sputtered as he gave me a blasé look. “I assume you are interested, unless you have some other reason for being so nosy.” Once again, the arrogant sneer punctuated his words.

I restrained myself from bolting over the seat.

Camille wasn’t quite so diplomatic. “You’re an asshole, you know that?” She flashed him a snide smile through the rearview mirror, but kept her eyes on the road. “But since we’re stuck with each other for now, I suggest you keep your mouth shut and we’ll keep out of your business. Menolly—no more questions.”

Bran snorted. “You girls take the cake. My mother was right—barbaric and mannerless. Humans are pathetic, and you windwalkers are just as bad. What she wants with you escapes me. Why she would offer you a place in our wood—again, I have no clue.”

I winced. The term windwalker was derogatory, all right, and meant half-breed back in Y’Elestrial. It certainly had never been used as a compliment. I forced a comment back down my throat and, shaking with anger, turned back around in my seat.

Camille kept her hands on the wheel, but her voice was so soft I almost didn’t hear her at first. “You are staying in our house, eating our food. You’re a guest of the Queen of Shadow and Night. I suggest you fucking keep to your manners because, dude, one more step over the line and I’ll call Smoky home and ask him to beat your butt right back to Mama’s doorstep.”

I was still watching him through the rearview mirror, and so I saw the quiver of fear that ran over his face. So the little ass was afraid of something—big bad dragons made him nervous.

We spent the rest of the ride in silence, and it wasn’t long until we pulled into the parking lot of the Utopia. The building was still on fire but most of the flames were quenched. Smoldering holes in the walls let the smoke billow out, and the scene through the windows was one of chaos and destruction. But it didn’t look anywhere near as damaged as the Wayfarer had been. Somebody had caught the fire in time to prevent it from totaling the place.

Camille slammed out of the car, ignoring Bran, who slowly emerged behind her. I followed her, and as we strode across the parking lot, Shade and Delilah pulled up, hopping out and running over to join us.

Delilah glanced at me and mouthed, “Everybody still alive after that ride?”

I nodded. “Barely.”

We found Chase near the entrance. He was talking to the fire marshal, a man we’d seen all too often as of late. As we approached, they finished up their talk. The marshal turned and, nodding to us, returned to his unit and began going over some sort of strategy with his men.

I glanced at the building. “So… what’s the whole story?”

“I’m thinking ghosts. At least, that’s what the maid told Shikra. Whatever happened, apparently things were moving around by themselves and a whirling misty form was seen. But it’s hard to know for certain until we investigate. Who knows what we’re dealing with?” He rubbed his chin. “This is arson, Menolly. And considering what happened to your bar… I’m thinking we have a serial arsonist on the loose.”