In my dream, she’d been so much more powerful, so much stronger.
She squinted at me, quirking her lips into a smile. “Morning. Do we have to get up now?”
“I think we’d better. Peyton’s father will be here in a couple of hours, and I want to contact Ysandra as soon as possible.” Pausing, I stared at her. “Did you dream—anything odd, by chance?”
She frowned as she huddled under the blanket. “I don’t know…maybe.” After a moment, she cocked her head. “I seem to remember dreaming about somewhere…somewhere I felt safe. And…Chatter was with me. But that’s all that I can recall.”
I debated telling her what I’d seen, but it might just have been wishful thinking, and until I had time to think more about it, I decided to keep my dreams to myself. I slowly stood and stretched, wincing. The cushions we’d slept on may have been soft, but they weren’t the same as a cushy bed, that was for sure. Rhiannon grumbled as she pushed herself to her feet.
As the bracing air hit me, I rubbed my hands on my arms. “Damn, it’s cold.” My teeth were chattering and I craved a cup of steaming coffee.
Peyton and Luna opened their eyes at my words. They yawned and then followed suit, dragging themselves reluctantly from beneath the covers. I sorted through the clothes till I found a fresh pair of jeans, along with a clean turtleneck and—best of all—clean underwear. At least we would have a few days’ worth of clean undies before having to do laundry in the sink.
Rhiannon wrapped a light throw around her shoulders. “I need to wash up.” She headed for the bathroom.
Peyton and Luna sorted through the clothes until they found their own things. Kaylin had no real sense of color or style coordination, but that didn’t matter right now. I shivered again and followed Rhia’s example, hugging one of the blankets around my shoulders.
“Are you ready to meet your father?” I glanced over at Peyton.
She shrugged. “Yes, though I’m so afraid things will go badly and then I’ll wish I’d never heard from him. I know everybody thinks it’s better to know than not know…but sometimes I wonder about that. Living in a fantasy land can be a lot easier than facing reality.”
“Especially with the reality we’re up against.” I gave her a soft smile. “I’m sure he’ll be wonderful. After all, look at Wrath. He’s not what I ever expected, but somehow…it fits my life that he’s my father.”
The werepuma/magic-born woman nodded. Peyton was tall and sturdy, muscled and with dark long hair and dark eyes. Her native heritage showed through her Caucasian side and she was a combination of the exotic and down-to-earth practicality.
“Should we plan out the trip to rescue Lainule’s heartstone?” Luna frowned as she held up a long skirt and a button up shirt. “This should do.” She began singing a faint chant over the clothes and—as she sang—the wrinkles vanished from the material.
“How did you do that?” I sat up, intrigued.
“Simple enough. Some of my magic is kitchen-witch-oriented. I can sing the wrinkles out of clothes, make sure a boiling pot never overflows or burns, charm seeds to germinate faster and grow stronger.”
I’d never known much about yummanii magic. The magic-born primarily worked with the elements, but I knew there were other types of spells, other types of magic. “What else can you do? Are your spells linked to an element?”
She shrugged. “My magic is all linked to song. If I get laryngitis, my powers are disrupted. I first discovered my abilities when I was young. I sang to my toys and one day they started dancing. Freaked my mother out. But my grandma was a spell singer—which is what they call it in my family, and one cousin also has the power. We’re not sure where it came from but Grandma used to talk about her grandmother being able to conjure with song.”
“You have perfect pitch, don’t you?” I couldn’t keep on key to save my life, but I could recognize talent when I heard it.
With a slight blush, she ducked her head. “Yes, and I have the ability to sing any song I’ve heard even one time. I seem to have an audiographic memory—like photographic, only for music.”
Peyton nodded. “What does the music do to you?”
Luna bit her lip, looking distant as she searched for the words. “It’s hard to explain. Something about music resonates in my soul. That sounds melodramatic but really—the notes vibrate in my inner core. I can feel them spread throughout my body and I can grab hold of them, use them to manipulate the world around me. My parents don’t have the ability, but they are talented in other ways. They’ve always just called their talent ‘lucky chance’ because they seem to luck out a lot.”
Just then, Rhiannon came back from the bathroom and I took her place. I cleaned up with a quick sponge bath, sprucing up as best as I could. I’d give anything for another bath like yesterday, but I had a feeling that had taken all evening for Grieve to arrange and I wasn’t about to ask him to do it again. I’d file it away under memories, and make do with washcloth and soap.
My nose felt slightly runny—the cold was getting to me—and I slathered some cream on the chapped skin. After brushing my hair, and dressing, I stared at myself in the mirror. I felt like I’d aged a decade in the past couple of weeks…it showed in my eyes, and I held tight to the sink.
Whispering to my reflection, I said, “I wonder…what it would have been like to have a normal childhood, to have some memory I could hold on to where I wasn’t running or hiding or trying to protect my mother?”
Grieve and Chatter gave you a taste of that. Ulean whistled around me.
They did, but even then, they were preparing me for the life I would face. But yes, those golden days before I was six and Krystal dragged me away…I cherish them.
A wash of memory swept me back to rare sunny days spent in the woods, crouching in puddles of sunlight, listening to Grieve and Chatter explain how the magic of wind and fire worked. I lingered in the memory for a moment, closed my eyes and drifted in the images, but there was no time for self-indulgence.
With a last glance in the mirror, I straightened my shoulders. Time to get moving for the day. Every hour we let go by was another hour Myst stole away a little more of our town. We needed to put a stop to her, regardless of the cost to our own lives.
Peyton and Luna took their turns in the bathroom as Rhiannon and I headed out to the main chamber where the others were waiting, with the exception of Lannan. Relieved we’d have the day free of the vampire, it briefly crossed my mind that I could track him down and stake him while he slept. But as I gazed around the giant warehouse, I realized I could spend all day hunting for him and never find a clue. Lannan wasn’t stupid, and he knew how I felt.
Rhiannon put some soup on to heat for breakfast. Kaylin had managed to outfit the warehouse with a range, and there was a sink against one wall that had obviously been used by workers who needed to clean up. It was rusted, but wide and deep, and the water was still running and it was clear—apparently the pipes weren’t a total loss. He was helping Chatter feed the burn barrels and I crowded near, huddling against the heat.
“Morning. Want some toast? I have an old toaster over there. It chars the bread on the corners but still works.” Kaylin pointed to the counter near the sink. I saw a loaf of bread, a tub of margarine, and a toaster that had seen better days.
“Thanks.” My teeth chattering in the chill air of the main warehouse, I popped two slices of bread into the toaster. “Did you guys eat yet?”
Kaylin nodded. “We had sandwiches for breakfast. Chatter is in the other room, working on more charms. He shooed us away, saying he needed silence so he could concentrate. Wrath is outside, patrolling the perimeter of the warehouse. We don’t know if the Shadow Hunters are still affected by the light, but I don’t think Geoffrey and Lainule have given them the antidote for the plague yet.”
“I’m not even sure if they’re still planning on doing so. Think about it—while they definitely took the Indigo Court down the wrong track, the light-rage does incapacitate them during the daylight.”
All of them except Grieve, who’d been given the antidote when we rescued him. Though still part of the Indigo Court, at least now the light didn’t send him into the raging madness that it did the other Vampiric Fae.
“Yeah, but it also makes them far more vicious. The vampires might not care, but Lainule…I think she would.” Rhiannon brought over mugs of chicken soup and set them on the table as I carried a plate of toast over. Charred edges or not, the bread smelled all buttery and good.
“Lainule will be much more apt to help us once we find her heartstone.” I dove into the food, my stomach rumbling. It felt like everything I ate just vanished the minute it went through my lips. The cold was burning up energy, the worry was eating away at us, and I never seemed to feel full anymore.
“Do you really believe that?” Kaylin asked, turning to look at me.
Rhiannon, Luna, and Peyton joined me at the table.
“I have to believe that. We have to have some hope.” And then, as I looked up, my sight fell on Rhiannon and once again the image of her strong, tall, incredibly powerful flashed before my eyes. We locked gazes.
“Rhiannon…you need to work with Chatter. Anadey was helping you master your control over the fire and she’s lost to us now. Chatter can take over.”
She nodded. “I’ve been thinking about that, too. I’ll find him after breakfast.”
As we dug into breakfast, several of the cats rubbing against our legs in an attempt to cajole an extra treat or two, an alarm beeped, echoing across the incredibly high ceilings.
Kaylin jerked his head up. “That’s the pager I gave your father.” He motioned for us to stay put as he vanished toward the front of the warehouse.
We pushed back from the table, positioning ourselves for a fight, if need be. I glanced at Rhiannon and she gave me a smoky look, then leaned back and I could feel the lick of the flames surrounding the edges of her aura. Worry crossed Luna’s face, but then she closed her eyes and I could feel the swirl of magic surround her. I pulled out my fan, getting it ready.
Peyton drew a nasty-looking blade. She hoisted it—a long dagger with a serrated blade. “Kaylin gave this to me last night. I’ve done some knife training.” As she tossed the blade back and forth between her hands, a feral look stole over her face, her puma just below the surface, waiting to be released.
But it wasn’t an enemy who followed Kaylin back into the room. A tall man, as sturdy and dark as Peyton with hair that reached his lower back and was tied in a braid, walked into the room. Wearing dark indigo wash jeans, a cable-knit sweater, and scuffed cowboy boots, it was obvious in a glance that this was Rex—Peyton’s father. The resemblance was remarkable. He had something woven into his braid—it looked like some sort of herb or dried flower or something.
Peyton stood, staring at him. As he paused, she began to tremble. “Rex?”
He nodded. “Peyton.” And then he held out his arms and she dropped her dagger on the floor and ran to him, weeping. He swept her into his embrace, hugging her tightly, kissing the top of her head. “My daughter. My baby. Baby girl.”
She pressed her face against his chest, then pushed back, hitting him with her open hands. “You left me. You left us.”
Rex didn’t flinch from her blows. He just held her, letting her smack him until she ran out of energy.
“Oh, baby girl, I didn’t want to. Your mother wouldn’t let me stay. And she wouldn’t let me come back.” Taking a deep breath, he held Peyton’s shoulders, forcing her to look at him. “Anadey threatened to run off with you, so that I’d never be able to find you. She said she’d give you my letters if I agreed to never come back to the house. So I relented and left. But she didn’t keep her promise. I sent letter after letter. Now I know she destroyed them.”
Peyton’s jaw dropped. “I never saw one of them. Not one.”
“I finally realized you weren’t getting them when Old Joe One Shoe, a friend of mine here in town, overheard Anadey telling one of her friends that she tore up all my letters. When he told me that, I took off, spent several years on the road.”
“Why did you come back?”
He smiled softly. “I decided it had been long enough—the cougars were speaking to me, they sang to me in the night and told me it was time to return home. That my baby girl was in trouble and needed me. So I hit the road and here I am.” Rex let her go then, and Peyton didn’t step away.
“Mother told me you were an alcoholic. Are you still drinking?”
“I was when I left. But I’d promised her I’d quit. She didn’t trust me. Shortly after I left, I joined AA. Never slid off the wagon—not once. I’ve been sober since you were knee-high. I tried to get her to let me come home again, but she wouldn’t hear of it. I think Anadey wanted you all to herself. I think she was jealous when you used to run up to me instead of her.” He said it slowly, like a man not wanting to spill secrets, but it rang true.
Peyton nodded. “You’re probably right. Anadey has always guarded me. She wants me to have friends, but then…” She glanced over at me. “She almost killed Cicely as a payment to keep you from getting to me.”
Rex gave me a stout nod. “Miss.” He touched his forehead in a two-fingered salute. “Baby girl, why don’t you introduce me to your friends.”
Peyton blushed. “I’m sorry—I was just so excited. And nervous.” As she went round, giving our names and what we did, Rex shook our hands. His skin was warm and his handshake firm, rock-solid. I liked the man.