Harvest Hunting (Otherworld/Sisters of the Moon #8)

Harvest Hunting (Otherworld/Sisters of the Moon #8) Page 6

I let her words sink in, and for just a moment--I understood. Then the feeling faded but left behind a touch of balm to soothe my worry and fear.

"When your service with the Autumn Lord ends, you wil be free to go home to your ancestors, you know," she added.

This was news to me. "What do you mean? I thought we served him forever."

"Oh no, my dear. You serve a term and then--unless there's something special he wants from you--you wil be released to your own journey. So take heart, there is a chance you wil not be pledged to him forever in the afterlife. And truly, he is a sensual and . . . giving . . . partner."

With that, she stood and motioned to the path. "Run now. Run like the wind. I wil come for you again on the next waning moon, and you shal take the helm as we continue our lessons. For now, go back to your life. Live. Enjoy."

And I was off and running. I don't remember how long I ran, but I began to feel sleepy. It wouldn't hurt me to just lie down a little and rest, I thought. So I shifted into black panther form, curled beneath a tree, and fel soundly asleep with only the wind to keep me company.

"Delilah? Delilah? Wake up!" Iris's voice echoed through the fog fil ing my brain.

"Kitten? Kitten--come on. Please wake up." Menol y's voice joined her, and I felt myself blink as she yanked me to my feet and helped me sit down in a nearby chair. "You okay? What the hel happened?"

Camil e was rushing into the room with a cool cloth, which she pressed to the back of my neck. "You felt hot, like you were burning up."

I shook my head, trying to focus. "I . . . I . . ." Part of me didn't want to tel them. What had happened would take me some time to come to grips with, but with what we were facing, none of us could afford to keep secrets anymore. Just like when Camil e was shoved into her priestess role and would soon be undergoing a rite to induct her into Aeval's court of Night, so, too, this could have ramifications that might affect al of us, not just me.

"I just had my first training lesson as a Death Maiden."

The men and Iris broke out talking, their words fal ing over one another. My sisters, on the other hand, stared at me mute, both looking terrified. I realized what they were thinking.

"No, no . . . I'm not going to die soon. But apparently I have to be trained in my duties. It's going to be one hel of a journey, I can tel you that." I blinked, realizing that it was no longer a feeling: My life was about to change, and change drastical y. Hi'ran had gone easy with me until now, but no more.

As the others quieted down, I dished out what had happened. "It was incredible watching her with the man," I said, whispering. "We truly do harvest the dead. He was on his way out and didn't want to go; he was resisting. She made it easy for him."

"I wonder . . ." Iris crossed over to the television and turned on the news. She flipped through the stations until she came to the local cable news channel, and we watched as the story unfolded.

Trevor Wil is, the local-boy-makes-good-as-anchor-star, came on, his expression suitably grave. Behind him was plastered a picture of the man in the suit whom I'd seen in the grove.

"Ronald Niece, a local man, died tonight after saving the lives of fifteen fel ow bus passengers. Police say that an armed gunman--identified as Shane Wilson Thatcher--intended to gun down the entire bus, according to a note they found in his house.

"His plans were thwarted when Niece--an accountant by day, black belt karate teacher by night--noticed the gun as Thatcher aimed at the driver. Niece managed to knock Thatcher off balance long enough for the driver to stop and open the back doors.

"As people were exiting the bus, Thatcher recovered his hold on the gun long enough to shoot Niece five times. The driver hit Thatcher over the head with a lead pipe he was carrying under his seat. Unfortunately, though paramedics did everything they could, Ronald Niece died en route to the hospital. Bus passengers and the driver are cal ing him a hero. Niece is survived by--"

Iris flipped off the TV. "How horrible. You'd think with al the problems facing the world, people would find better ways of taking it out on each other. I've been around for a thousand years, and I stil find it incredible what people--Fae or human--wil do to each other." Her eyes were misty, and she wiped the back of her hand across them.

I stared at the TV. "That was him. He walks in the hal s of Valhal a now. Warriors are applauding him; the gods look favorably on him. And he saved fifteen lives tonight that might otherwise be walking in the spirit realm now. I don't think that's a bad way to end your life, even if the end comes too short."

As I'd watched Greta soothe his fear, I'd realized that she--we--performed a valuable service in so many ways. No one who'd been such a hero deserved to take their last breath in fear. He deserved a passionate and lovely welcome, and the Death Maidens could offer him one.

"Delilah, what's happening to your arms?" Camil e frowned, pointing.

I glanced down at my skin. There, a faint shadow started at my wrists, working its way up to encircle both forearms in the shape of a vine. Like Greta's tattoos. As I watched, the vines reached my elbows and stopped, the leaves springing forth from them--maple and oak. The color was muted, like plum bruises, but the images were definitely there. My arms tingled, though not uncomfortably so, as something inside whispered, "First lesson . . ."

"Greta--she had tattoos like this on her arm, but they were bril iant black and orange. But they were the same shape and pattern."

"I wonder if they'l get darker the longer you train with her." Menol y brushed her fingers over my arms, then shook her head. "I don't feel anything.

Camil e, Iris?"

Camil e held her hands over my arm and closed her eyes. After a moment she shivered. "It's his energy, al right. The energy of harvest, of bonfires, and cold autumn nights. I think Menol y's right--these aren't finished yet. I guess you're being marked, like I was by the Moon Mother." She nodded toward her back. The two tattoos emblazoned on her shoulder blades glimmered beneath the sheer material. They designated her Moon Witch and priestess.

Sucking in a deep breath, I closed my eyes, weary. "So many paths to walk . . . but this is mine." The thought of being tattooed didn't frighten me, and indeed--Greta's arms had been beautiful, lovely and wild. And Hi'ran might be one of the Harvestmen, but he was bril iant and as compassionate as he could be frightening.

I straightened my shoulders, proud to be under his rule. My liege walked the paths of shadow, and now, so did I. A little bit of the weight that I'd been carrying for months fel away.

Camil e and Menol y knelt by my side, Camil e on my left, Menol y on my right. They took my hands, and we sat there in silence. What lay ahead we could not know; we were each facing new chal enges, new trials, but we were together.

"We'l walk the journey al the way through, hand in hand," Camil e said, giving me a slow smile. "My own descent into the realms of the Harvestmen lies through magic and worship. Yours--through duty to an Elemental Lord. And Menol y walks the journey in body. None of us is immune to the shadows, and I think we just have to get used to it. We walk in the darkness, not in the light."

I gazed at my arms, then back at them, feeling a whole lot less alone. "It's true--we have shifted. Shadow Wing saw to that. I wish we could find Stacia.

The longer she's out there, the more worried I get."

The Bonecrusher had eluded us for far too long now. But every lead we traced came up empty. We knew there had to be a leak somewhere--someone feeding her information--but we couldn't figure out who was ratting us out. And Stacia was doing a good job of playing her cards close to the table.

"I'm worried that by the time she makes her move, she'l be right on top of us, and we won't have a chance to react."

"We can't do anything about it tonight. Tomorrow's another day." Menol y stood up, pul ing me to my feet. "You should get some sleep for now. You've had a long day. Camil e, too."

"What's on the agenda for tomorrow?" Iris led the way to the kitchen. We'd developed the habit of gathering around the kitchen table--al of us--and having tea before bedtime. It gave us a close to the day, a moment to breathe.

Camil e grabbed the steno pad from the table beneath the wal phone. She hadn't changed out of her priestess robes yet, and they left nothing to the imagination under the glare of the overhead light. Rozurial was checking her out, but the moment Smoky entered the room, his eyes were right back on the tea he was helping Iris fix. Roz had become Iris's unofficial souschef in the kitchen and had a surprising knack for cooking.

Menol y was the only one of us stil bright-eyed. She hovered up by the ceiling, her favorite place to hang out. The guys sprawled out on the various benches and chairs we'd managed to accumulate around the huge oak table.

Smoky had bought us a new one when it was apparent that the old table wasn't going to do the trick for the number of people living on our land. The new table was gigantic, and there was barely room to squeeze past it in order to get to the stove and counters. The kitchen itself was huge, but the dining area had shrunk in relation to the size of the furniture, and the guys were talking about building an addition--expanding the kitchen and dining area.

Surprisingly, al of the men were handy with a hammer, and over the past month, they had taken care of al the little odd jobs the house needed, including storm windows being instal ed in place of single-pane.

Camil e dropped the steno pad on the table and glanced through the page. "How did everyone do today with what we'd planned out? Not much on the agenda but the wedding."

"Shouldn't we just have our tea and cal it a night?" Tril ian asked, flashing Camil e a suggestive look. Tonight she was al his, and we al knew it. He'd made sure everyone knew it.

Tril ian had also proven to be a surprise. Ever since he returned from the war, he'd stil been his arrogant self but more wil ing to help and less combative. He was a strong proponent of Iris's nightly tea parties, and was now addicted to Earl Grey tea with lemon and honey, which he preferred drinking from a bone china cup. Definitely a side of the Svartan that nobody outside of the kitchen would ever guess.

Camil e shook her head. "Have to do the agenda stuff. We've gotten to the point where we need to keep track of things. But yeah, not much on here for today. What about tomorrow?"

"I want to start checking into the disappearance of Luke's sister," I said. "I could use some help. What's going on down at the shop?"

She frowned, and a pale light passed through those gorgeous violet eyes of hers. "They're almost done with the remodeling. We can open back up in three weeks. I'm not sure how I feel about it, though. Every time I go in there, I'm going to be thinking about how Henry died."

"That wil ease. And you know he'd want you to use that money he left you to expand the shop like he'd planned." Iris patted her shoulder. "Everything wil be fine."

Henry had left Camil e a considerable sum of money, surprising us al .

"I thought everything would be fine when I hired him to work for me. But look what happened. Now he's dead and . . ." Camil e let out long sigh. "Never mind. At least I've found somebody skil ed in martial arts to take over managing it for me. I miss being there every day, but with the constant threat from Shadow Wing . . ." Again, her words drifted off.

Vanzir leaned back in his chair. "You won't be sorry you hired Gisel e. She knows her stuff. You wait and see--I promise."

I glanced over at him, and he gave me a quick wink. Once in a while Vanzir let down his guard, and a little bit of humanity showed through that demon heart of his. He'd found Gisel e for Camil e without being asked. The she-demon was part of the Demon Underground and had been living Earthside for thirty years. Carter, our main contact to the Earthside demonic forces, had also vouched for her. Gisel e was anti- Shadow Wing, and she hated snakes.

And anything to do with snakes. Including Stacia Bonecrusher.

"I'm holding you to that promise," Camil e muttered. "My customers expect someone who understands the nature of books."

I cleared my throat. "Let's get this wrapped up." I popped a couple Oreos as Iris and Roz passed around teacups and a plate of cookies. "So, wil you have time to help me tomorrow? To look for Amber, I mean?"

Camil e nodded. "Yeah, but the guys are busy, I think."

Smoky leaned over her and swiped a couple of the cookies. "Morio is coming with me out to my barrow to do some autumn cleaning, and I need to check on Georgio."

"What about you?" I looked up at Tril ian.

He shrugged. "Sorry. I'm taking care of some work around the house for Iris that needs to be done before winter hits."

With a sigh, I turned to Rozurial. "I suppose you're busy, too?"

The incubus shook his head. "Vanzir and I are scouting out another lead on the Bonecrusher. Probably another false alarm, but we have to make certain. We can't let anything go by that might give us a clue to her whereabouts."

"How the hel can a demon general of her stature get lost in this city, I want to know? And that's rhetorical." Camil e jotted everybody's plans down on the steno pad as a noise from the living room broke the silence.

"Sounds like Nerissa's coming around," I said, and Menol y nodded, lightly touching back down to the floor. She was through the arch before I finished speaking.

"I guess that's it. Menol y wil be sleeping, and Shamas wil be working, of course. Iris--what about you?" Camil e put down her pen and looked up at the house sprite.