Harvest Hunting (Otherworld/Sisters of the Moon #8) - Page 7/39

Iris shrugged. "Typical day. Take care of Maggie, clean up around here, and then Bruce and I wil finish harvesting the last of the herbs for the season."

"I guess that covers it," I said as the phone rang. Being closest, I answered. "Hel o?"

Chase's voice rang over the line. "Delilah, we have a problem."

"What?" Whenever Chase cal ed late at night with a problem, it was usual y a doozy.

"There's mayhem down on the docks near Exo Reed's joint--the Halcyon Hotel & Nightclub. Big fight going down. I need as many of you as I can get down there. ASAP." The phone slammed down in my ear.

I turned to the others, groaning. "Nobody's going to bed. We've got trouble at Exo Reed's. Chase needs us. Iris--you and Bruce stay with Maggie and Nerissa. Everybody else, get changed double time, and let's hit the road."

A glance at the clock made me wince. We were al tired, but we had to be ready 24/7 when it came to phone cal s in the middle of the night. I just prayed that we weren't going into a major battle against Stacia tonight. We needed to find her, yes, but man, I just did not want to face her smel ing like skunk, worn out, and grungy.

CHAPTER 4

"Crap, and double crap." I slid into a pair of ripped jeans and an old sweater. "I'm going in there reeking, and anything with half a nose wil smel me."

I shimmied the pants up over my thighs and pul ed on the sweater. As I shook my head and looked in the mirror, I caught my breath. With the dark olive sweater and the black jeans, my new spiked-up multicolored hair lit up the green of my eyes like never before. For a moment, I didn't recognize myself.

"Whoa." I turned, first one way, then the other. I looked like I had bal s now. Kick-ass, no-more-tears bal s. And it looked good.

"Get a move on!" Menol y's voice echoed from downstairs, and I shook myself out of my reverie and grabbed Lysanthra, my dagger, and careful y slid her into my boot sheath. She and I had a wonderful relationship, and I never went into a fight without her now.

I raced down the stairs just in time to see Camil e and the guys come out of their room, and surprise number two in the dress department: no skirt.

Camil e was in a black velvet jumpsuit with flared legs. A silver belt rode low around her waist, and granny boots completed the retro sixties vision. She looked like Catwoman or Emma Peel, only with better cleavage. The guys were wearing jeans and tops easy to fight in, and we clattered down the stairs together.

Menol y had changed out of her gown and was wearing jeans, a turtleneck, and a denim jacket. Roz had on his usual duster-cum-armory. Vanzir was rocker-chic, of course, and we headed out to the cars without a word as Iris bolted the door behind us.

We split up into three groups. Camil e and her men jumped in her Lexus, Roz rode shotgun with Menol y in her Jag, and Vanzir hopped into the passenger seat of my Jeep. Fol owing Camil e, we eased out onto the road and headed for the docks and the Halcyon Hotel.

Exo Reed was a werewolf--a presiding member of the Loco Lobos Pack. He was also a stable member of both the Supe Community and the city at large. A psychedelic redneck with a penchant for business, he ran his hotel to cater to Supes of al kinds.

He had, however, instituted a stronger screening process after Dredge--my sister's horrific sire--had infiltrated the hotel, and we total y trashed a suite trying to stake him. After we'd dusted Dredge and done a number on Exo's hotel, Exo had hired a seer to ferret out troublemakers. Now his hotel was always ful with Supes who wanted an extra measure of protection while staying there.

The streets of the Bel es-Faire District passed by in darkness. There was stil quite a bit of undeveloped land out in this area, and some of the Fae were beginning to buy it up to keep it safe. Most of those living in the suburb didn't realize it was happening, but the quiet coup was often discussed in our Supe Community meetings, where we planned out ways to smooth interactions between our people and the FBHs.

I glanced over at Vanzir, who was staring out the side window. "You okay? You seem uncommonly quiet tonight." Usual y, the demon had no problem voicing his opinion on anything from music to politics.

He shrugged. "Yeah. I'm fine."

"You don't seem it."

He let out a snort. "And you would be one to talk?" Then, with a sigh of exasperation, he said, "Listen, I'm sorry for being dense at the party. I know you're going through a hard time, and for what it's worth, I think you're handling this whole mess with Johnson real y wel ."

Blinking, I almost swerved. A compliment from slave boy? Almost unheard of. But I didn't want to make a big deal about it because he sounded genuinely concerned, and catching Vanzir in a moment free from sarcasm was like catching Santa Claus on a diet.

"Thanks," I said, slowly mul ing over what else to say. "It's been hard--we've had a rocky time from the start."

"He's not your type."

I shot Vanzir a look out of the corner of my eye. "Why?"

"Even though he's taken the Nectar of Life, he's stil not your type. He'l come to resent you eventual y. I'm not questioning whether he loves you," he said, holding up his hand. "What I am questioning is the long-term viability of a relationship with someone not born into your world. I think you stepped outside the box too far. You're simply not human enough for it to work with an FBH, long-lived or not."

"Do you think Smoky wil regret being with Camil e? He's dragon, and they're as different from the Fae as we are from FBHs." I wanted to hear his answer.

He frowned. "Probably not. They are soul bound, and that makes a huge difference. But you know--as wel as I do--that a ful -blooded human cannot bind souls with those from other worlds. They can only soul-bind to themselves. You and your sisters only have the ability because of your father's bloodline."

I pressed my lips together. The same thought had eaten at me since the beginning of my affair with Chase. I loved him in so many ways, but sleeping with Zachary had unleashed a need in myself to mate with someone who understood my predator nature.

I wasn't just a woman who put on a catsuit once in awhile. I was part-Fae, part-human, part-feline, al Death Maiden. I was as much myself when I was a panther or tabby as when I walked on two legs.

As we pul ed up in front of Exo Reed's hotel right then, I silently leapt out of the car. Vanzir let the matter drop, and we raced forward. Camil e and her crew joined us, and Menol y and Roz fel in stride.

Camil e tapped me on the arm. She looked beat. "Kitten, I'm dead meat on the hoof, and I just can't deal with keeping things straight. Take the lead tonight?"

I grinned at her. "You are anything but dead meat, but yeah, I don't mind taking charge." I pushed in front and led the way into the hotel.

Chase and a group of officers from the Faerie-Human Crime Scene Investigations unit were waiting just inside the door. I paused, waiting for him to notice us. As we stood there, loud crashing noises came from the stairwel and the floor above us. Crap, it sounded like a brigade on riot patrol.

Chase glanced over, saw us, and motioned us closer. As I stepped into the light, he blinked. "Your hair." He stopped, then he saw my tattoos as I pul ed off my jacket. "Your arms . . ." He shook his head, then said, "Time enough for that later. Thank God you're final y here. We've got mayhem going on, and people are hurt."

I glanced back at Camil e and Menol y, who both straightened their shoulders. We were in for a fight, so it was time to pick up the energy. Camil e accepted a candy bar from Morio, who handed me one, too. We scarfed down the sugar for an extra boost of energy.

"What have we got?" Tril ian asked, fingering his short sword.

Chase frowned. "For the most part goblins. They're tearing up the joint." He motioned to Exo, who was standing by his side.

"About half an hour ago, bunch of goblins came bursting into the lobby and decided to make themselves at home," Exo said. "I told security to keep an eye on them, a good thing. The brutes got drunk and tried to carry off a couple of the beta werewolves--and not the women."

"They tried to carry off beta males? What the . . . ?" That was odd. Goblins usual y went for women, whom they could sel on the slave market back in Otherworld.

"Yeah--go figure. My bouncers put a stop to it, and the brutes started tearing up the joint. A group of them headed upstairs, and the rest are in the lounge, tossing tables, breaking anything in sight, and drinking al my booze. My security guards can't handle them. I've got one man down. I think he's dead."

"Damn," I whispered.

"It gets worse." The look on Chase's face stopped me cold. "Exo said they're led by a couple of Tregarts--the demons went upstairs."

He closed his eyes for just a second, but I saw the worry in his look. Tregarts had nearly ended his life and were ultimately responsible for us giving him the Nectar of Life. One of the demonic human look-alikes had ripped Chase to ribbons with a blood dagger, a blade specifical y enchanted to keep the victim's blood from clotting. We'd almost been too late.

And then it hit me: Chase was afraid. Which meant he'd be a hindrance in battle. I tapped him on the shoulder.

"Would you coordinate the troops? And get as many people out of the hotel as you can. Take some of the less seasoned officers and start evacuating the areas you can safely reach."

"Bul shit. You're giving me make-work." Pausing, Chase cocked his head. "I guess I am a liability," he said softly. "I'l do as you ask, but Delilah, don't soft-pedal me. I may be fucked up, but never patronize me again." He flashed me a dark look.

I bit my lip, piercing the skin with one of my fangs. Shit. But there wasn't any time to argue. I swung around to the others.

"Split up. Camil e, you, Morio, and Smoky come with me. We'l tackle the lounge. Tril ian, you, Roz, and Vanzir fol ow Menol y and head upstairs." I didn't want to separate Camil e and Morio--they were becoming more and more bound with their magic, and together, they made a formidable foe.

The others nodded and peeled off, fol owing Menol y toward the stairs. I turned to the double doors leading into the refurbished lounge. Last time we'd been here, it had been a psychedelic nightmare.

"You guys ready? With al the screaming and thumping there, I doubt they've heard us."

"Ready," Camil e said, and as I watched her, I could feel the swathe of energy descending around her. But it wasn't from the Black Unicorn's horn--she had so thoroughly discharged the horn when she was in Otherworld that it was taking two ful dark moon cycles to recharge.

Morio put his hands on her shoulders, steadying her. He arranged his bag so that it was out of the way--he carried his skul familiar wherever he went because without it, he couldn't return to human form when he turned into a fox--and nodded. Smoky cracked his knuckles and gave me a thin smile.

"Let's go. And remember: No mercy, no compassion, because the goblins won't have any." I slid Lysanthra out of my boot sheath and glanced at them, then slammed open the door.

As we burst through the opening, I scanned the room. It was fil ed with shadowy figures il uminated by what remained of the dim light from broken sconces and overheads. From what I could see, we were facing a good twenty figures. Goblins. Drunk goblins. Oh goody. Sober goblins were bad enough, but hyped up on booze, they'd be feeling their oats. Goblins with an attitude: so not attractive.

The dining hal was a mess--overturned tables and chairs everywhere, broken glass from behind the bar, holes dotted the wal s, and it smel ed like someone had put out a fire in the smel iest way imaginable--the stench of urine was strong. With al the strong odors, I could barely smel the skunk.

The shouts of fighting abruptly stopped as al eyes turned to us. I held my breath, waiting for that moment, waiting for the inner urge that would propel me forward. Always before a battle, there was the deciding nudge, the prime moment when al hel broke loose. And it always came before I thought I was ready.

But this time, as I surveyed the enemy, I felt a quiet confidence. Fear, yes, but confidence. Lysanthra hummed in my hand, and I felt her shiver of anticipation. She loved a good fight, and when her edge cut into our opponents and she tasted blood, Lysanthra sang. And her song boosted my energy.

And then someone--perhaps it was a goblin, perhaps it was one of us--made a slight move, and the tableau crumbled and we were into the battle.

I raced forward, straight toward one of the biggest goblins I could see. Our policy was to start with the toughest, which general y scared the weakest ones into submission or to run away.

The brute was at least my height, but he outweighed me by fifty pounds. A surge of adrenaline flooded my body. Goblins were butt-ugly, their leathery skin protecting them like good armor. His hair hung in makeshift dreads, and he arched one eyebrow as I moved in, a sick look of pleasure crossing his face.

Camil e let out a scream--a battle cry of sorts--and joined hands with Morio. They were weaving a web of magic impossible to ignore. Smoky slipped past them, rumbling like an earthquake, and as he met one of the goblins, his nails grew into long, razor-sharp claws, and his hair lashed out like a bul whip, striking the creature in the face with a loud snap. He swiped a long gash along the demon's torso and then leapt back before the creature could touch him.

My opponent engaged me, and we circled one another. I noticed an entry--he'd let his guard down by a fraction, just enough for me to dart in and thrust. I lunged at him, Lysanthra singing in my hand, and landed a stab to his lower torso. He bel owed as I pul ed back, my blade bloody.

The goblin brought his hands up, clasping them together overhead. I looked for his weapon, then realized too late that he was casting a spel . Oh shit--a goblin mage, and I didn't have anything to counter magic!