Demon Mistress
Page 20

For a moment, I stood, uncertain what to do, but then the maid reappeared and silently led me to the door. As I stepped out into the lightening sky, she glanced back at the voluminous hall behind her and whispered, “You are lucky. Not many who come seeking his lordship ever set foot back into the outside world again. I don’t advise a return visit.”
Before I could ask what she meant, she closed the door, and I heard the lock turn. I jogged back to the Lexus, wondering what the hell was going on. So many secrets, so many hidden agendas and power players and so much intrigue.
Worn out from the night, before I returned to the Wayfarer, I sped to the supermarket. Thank the gods for twenty-four-hour shopping. I grabbed a bag of kitty litter, a cat box, a couple of sandwiches, a box of donuts, and some chips. Delilah would have to be happy with that.
Roz helped me cart the slumbering Camille out to the car. I said a quick good-bye to Delilah and dropped off her supplies, then we sped home. I slipped into my secret lair only moments before the dawn’s blush began to wake the world again. Too tired to take off my clothes, I crawled into bed, and as the sun began his ascent, I lost myself in the slumber that controls the walking dead.
CHAPTER 16
The sounds coming from the kitchen were loud and annoying as I waited impatiently for Iris to clear everyone out so I could emerge from my lair. Other than my sisters, Iris, and Smoky, no one knew that the entrance to my chambers lay behind the bookshelf near Maggie’s kitchen playpen, and I wanted to keep it that way. Too many cooks spoiled the broth, and too many confidants increased the chance of blabbing to enemies. It was getting hard enough to keep secrets with as many people as we had trotting in and out of the house.
I pressed my ear against the wall. It sounded like Vanzir and Roz were shouting, and I started to wonder what the hell was going on. It occurred to me that maybe I should drill a peephole against the back of the bookshelf and keep it cloaked from back here. That way, when I needed to, I could open it to see what was going on. It would increase the danger of my lair being discovered, but with a little ingenuity, maybe we could cut the risk to a reasonable level.
After a moment, Iris’s voice echoed through the kitchen. “Everybody out.”
I heard Vanzir say, “We know she comes up somewhere near here. Why not just have this out in the open? We’re all safe.”
“That’s bull hockey, and you know it,” Iris countered. “You don’t know exactly where the entrance is, and you’re not going to.”
“Out. Now.” Iris’s voice carried over the babble, and I heard the sound of chairs scooting on the floor and footsteps on tile. After a moment, she tapped on the bookcase.
“Safe to come out,” she whispered, and I pushed open the shelf unit, which was on well-oiled hinges, and slipped into the kitchen, shutting the door tightly again. The door was heavy. While I was able to open it easily, my sisters and Iris had to expend a little sweat.
Camille was sitting at the table. Spread out, facedown cards and stacks of poker chips in front of each chair revealed there was a poker game going on. Iris was wearing a banker’s cap along with her dirndl dress and looked absolutely charming, though a bit discombobulated.
“Thanks,” I said. “I thought they’d never leave.”
“The boys didn’t want to chance me sneaking a peek at their cards,” Iris said, winking. “I promised them I wouldn’t look.” A sly grin tipped the corner of her mouth, and her eyes twinkled. “I don’t have to, anyway. I’ve got a straight flush.”
“Why, you shark,” I said. “Taking them to the cleaners?” Iris was a house sprite of many talents. We knew she was—or had been, at one time—a priestess of Undutar, the Finnish goddess of mists and ice. But she was also one hell of a fighter, and now, apparently, a damned good gambler.
“As always,” she said. “I can bluff those boys under the table.” She put two of her fingers in her mouth and let out a shrill whistle. “Come back in,” she called.
I glanced at the clock. Ten past eight. The sun had set a few minutes ago, but sunrise would come all too soon. Once again, a longing for autumn and winter swept over me. One thing was for sure, I’d never move to Alaska, unless it was only for the dark half of the year.
As Vanzir, Roz, and Morio filed back in, a thought struck me. “Whatever happened with Yssak? Is he still around?”
Camille shook her head. “No, Shamas showed up, and the two of them returned to Otherworld. From what Iris said, our cousin is really torn up. He may have spent more time with Aunt Rythwar, since she fostered him, but he loved his mother dearly. And Smoky’s out at his barrow. Apparently he got himself into a tiff with Titania over Morgaine. He can’t stand her, you know.”
“Neither can I,” I said. “I don’t care if she is our ancestor. Morgaine is trouble waiting to happen. She just hasn’t shown her true colors yet. And speaking of, why do we have to go to the summer solstice celebration? I have no interest in seeing the coronation.”
“Are you serious? We have to keep tabs on what goes down in the Courts of the Three Queens. Things are strained enough between the Triple Threat and the OW Fae Queens. And don’t forget, Father will be there, too. And Queen Asteria. We’re obligated to show up. Besides, Delilah really wants to go.”
“Delilah?” That didn’t sound like Kitten.
“Yeah, I’m not sure why, though, but she’s been all excited about it for the past couple of weeks. And I want to go.” Camille gave me a look that said the matter was settled.
I shrugged. “All right, but I’m registering a protest.”
Morio nodded. “You may not be best buddies, but Camille’s right. It’s vital that we all keep track of the courts. Ever since Camille helped Aeval emerge from the crystal and regain her throne as the Unseelie Queen, your fates have been tied to them. The ramifications of this rise to sovereignty are staggering, when you think about it. The Earthside governments are enchanted with having their own Fae. It gives them a one up on Otherworld—though I doubt if any politician would spell it out that clearly.”
“Testosterone war,” I grumbled. “Mine’s bigger than yours. I know, I know. But I don’t have to like it. Titania’s all right. I don’t trust Aeval, but at least she’s got some common sense about her. But Morgaine . . .”
“Morgaine is a tornado waiting to touch down,” Iris said. “She’s going to be a handful as time goes on. And because she can claim kinship with you, you can’t just outright deny her. Not without just cause.”
“She’s right,” Camille said. “She’s playing good cop-bad cop with us. Only we’ll be the bad cops if we don’t accept her gesture of friendship. I still think you’re wrong, and that the rise of the queens is the best thing for Earth, but I’m not going to argue. I just hope Smoky doesn’t cook her goose if she’s out at his barrow along with Titania.”
“Don’t you mean her raven?” I grinned. “Now there’s a thought. I wouldn’t mind seeing him fry the whole lot of them, but especially her.”
Camille frowned. “I grant you, Morgaine may be trouble, but I still think she’ll pull through for us. It’s obvious we’re not going to agree, so let’s leave it alone.”
“Fine by me.” I slid into a chair at the table. “This morning you slept all the way home. I wanted to leave you a note, but by the time we pulled into the driveway and Roz carried you in, sunrise was almost here, and I had to get downstairs.” I motioned to Roz. “Did you fill them in on what I told you?”
He gave me a brief nod, studying his cards. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Don’t you ma’am me.” I snorted.
Camille broke in. “We stopped by the bar as soon as we were up and out of here today, to let Delilah know what was going down. And Chase called. Another body. Now that Sharah knows what to look for, she confirmed yet another Karsetii attack.”
“Shit. Body count is rising.”
“Yeah. By the way, the two men who were hanging on by a thread? One of them died today. The other’s still managing to fight the demon. I told Chase we’d drop by there later tonight and go over on the astral to try to dislodge the demon from the guy. Dunno what we’ll do with him afterward.”
“Hmm, we could stash him with Delilah, though I’m not thrilled with putting Kitten near the hands of a stranger.” Even as the words came out of my mouth, I knew the idea wasn’t an option.
“No. We have one safe room, and she stays in it. Alone.” Camille shook her head. “We can disrupt the thing for now, but we can’t possibly save everybody this creature is attacking.”
“Well, it will buy him some time, at least.” Buying time was about all we could do. “Did you find out anything about Harold today?”
“Yeah, we did. More than we really want to know.” Camille opened her notebook and referred to her notes. “Morio and I did some sleuthing. From what we found out, Harold Young’s house is listed as an official social organization at the school, but it’s not a fraternity per se. Seems that the boys are all members of an exclusive, invitation-only fraternal order that most of their fathers were part of when they were in school. Harold’s very wealthy uncle deeded him the house to share with his buddies.”
That seemed odd to me. “His uncle? Not his father?”
“Looks that way. His father has money, too, but his uncle was the one who owned the house.”
“Old money?”
“Blue-blood old,” she said. “Now for the news you’re just going to love. The group calls themselves Dante’s Hellions.”
“Dante? I don’t think I’m liking this so far. Don’t tell me they use Dante’s Inferno as their bible?” I could just see a bunch of FBH kids using the book as their reference guide.
“Close.” Morio stretched his arms over his head, draping his left around Camille’s shoulders. She leaned toward him, and he stroked her hair with his hand. “From what we heard through the grapevine, they usually live up to the name. Those boys have been in a lot of trouble over the years.”
The name rang a sinister alarm for me, too. I frowned. “I take it they’re social misfits?”
“That’s the understatement of the year,” she said, frowning. “Of course, Delilah’s better at finding out information than I am, but I can tell you this: All the boys who are part of the society are of genius level or above, they all congregate in the computer science department, and a majority of the group come from families who have roots in the Rosicrucian tradition.”
The Rosicrucian order was esoteric, along the lines of the Freemasons. I thought about the chart of demonic runes on the wall. “I don’t think these boys are Rosicrucians. Those runes weren’t so much Hermetic as demonic. And I’m not talking the Seal of Solomon, either.”
“From what Roz told us, I think you’re right.” Camille flipped through her notebook. “Which is why I’ve called and booked an appointment in forty-five minutes to talk to the boys in their house. I told them I’m an Otherworld reporter studying human educational habits. They think we’re interested in writing a story and that I might be able to get it printed in a local Fae newsletter. We’re due there at nine fifteen. I wanted you to come with us, so I told them that was the earliest we could make it. Morio’s posing as my righthand man, and you’re going to be my photographer. Just avoid standing in front of any mirrors, or you’ll give yourself away.”
Morio smiled, his teeth brilliant white. While they weren’t the needlelike shape they took when he was in his demonic form, they still looked ultrasharp. Now and then, the youkai in him really shone through.
“From what I could tell when I was helping Camille do the research, these dudes do not like fraternities.” He smoothed the dark gray turtleneck across his flat abs and brushed a stray lock back from where it had escaped his mid-shoulder ponytail. His eyes glimmered, flickering between deep brown and brilliant topaz. It struck me that he was looking a little more feral than usual.
“Most of them were rejected by the Greek houses,” he continued. “Everything we could find out points to the whole lot of them being outcasts. They aren’t well-liked. Even the computer geeks, hardcore gamers, and fringe crowd steer clear of them.”
“Wonderful. Sounds like quite the crowd. We already know that Harold was stalking Sabele. And last night I overheard two boys, Larry and Duane, discussing the fact that they’d spiked a girl’s drink with Z-fen and gang raped her. I wanted to tear their heads off but figured we needed them alive for the moment.”
“Crap. We’ll make sure they pay for that, no matter what else we do.” Morio looked ready to kill.
“Consider them wiped. So, the plan is: We go in, see if they’ll give us a tour of the house, play up to their egos. At their age, testosterone’s going to be running high.” Camille grinned.
“That ought to do it.” I drifted slowly up toward the ceiling. “Say, Morio, you have any more of that blood that tastes like pineapple juice?”
He glanced up at me. “No, but I have one bottle of what should taste like strawberry nectar, and one that should taste like beef soup. I recommend heating the soup-flavored one.”
Iris nodded to the refrigerator. “They’re clearly labeled. Make sure you wash your dishes. I’m trying to train Delilah to clean her own litter box. The least you can do is wash your own bloody pans.”