Night Myst (Indigo Court #1)

Night Myst (Indigo Court #1) Page 3

Rhiannon blushed. "Honestly? No, I don't believe they did it. My boyfriend, Leo, is a day runner for Geoffrey. And while Geoffrey admits that the energy feels similar to his people's, he insists that they aren't to blame for what's been going on."

That was news. First that Rhiannon had a boyfriend--she'd always been rather shy--and second, that she was dating someone who worked for the vamps.

The Vein Lords--also known as the Crimson Court--kept to themselves for the most part, but on occasion, they mingled with people. As in socially, not a feeding frenzy. They tended to hang out with the magic-born more than anybody else. The vamps had their bloodwhores, but most of them were willing humans, only too happy to play host for their masters.

My aunt and cousin had kept me abreast of the latest exploits of the bite-me set over the course of our phone calls and my brief visits home.

"But can we believe Geoffrey? I'm not up to snuff on vampire lore, but they are predators. There's nothing to say they can't lie."

"I think we can take his word for it. The Vampire Nation has a lot to lose if they're lying. They're stronger than we are, but they are stuck in stasis half the time, and the retaliation would be horrible if they turned on their word. No, our problem is hiding out there.

"No." She shook her head and glanced out the kitchen window. "Whatever caused those deaths, and the deaths of our Society members, whatever is taking the people of New Forest, isn't human. And I don't think it ever was."

"Then I guess our next step is to search the forest, and for me to contact Grieve. Do you have anybody that can help us? Maybe your boyfriend?"

She let out a long sigh and nodded. "I haven't talked to him about Heather yet, because his sister was one of the Society members and she vanished, too. And he was studying wortcunning--herbal lore--with Heather. She really liked him and ever since Elise vanished, Heather acted as kind of a buffer for him--almost like his aunt. I didn't want to put him through the pain of losing someone all over again until I knew for sure. But I guess . . . do you think she's really gone? Could I be wrong?"

I hated breaking the fragile hope in her voice, but right now, we needed to face reality. "Yeah, and if we don't find her soon, who knows if we'll ever have the chance? You call Leo while I get my things from the car and take a shower. Then we'll bundle up, and head out to the woods to see what we can find."

And just like that, without ceremony or even time to sit and chat, I was home.

Chapter 3

While Rhiannon called Leo, I headed upstairs to my mother's old room, to unpack and take a shower. The incident at the hotel had made me so uneasy that I'd slept in my clothes, not wanting to be caught unprepared. After two days on the road, I was overripe and ready to hose myself off.

The thought of looking for Grieve weighed heavily on my heart, but I had to face him sometime. The memory of his skin against mine, of his lips against my lips, flashed through my mind and I bit back my heartache.

I loved him. I'd always loved him, but when he wanted me to stay, I'd still been too young to commit myself . . . too afraid of what it meant to bind myself to someone so strong and so different. Now, at twenty-six, nine years distance had put a lot of mileage on my soul. I'd seen the worst of the worst. I was ready to come in out of the cold, to build a hearth fire. The only question was: Did I still have a chance with him? Was he even still around?

The room was just like I remembered it, in shades of violet and ivory, which seemed out of place for my junkie mother, but then again, she'd just been starting down that road the last time she was here.

Deciding to leave the unpacking for later, I pulled my tank top over my head. The room was cool and I shivered as I exposed my skin to the air.

Banding my upper left arm, a pair of blackwork owls flew over a silver moon with a dagger stuck through its center. A matching tat banded my upper right arm. The owl was my familiar, though I didn't have one, and never had. Owls responded to me, though, and I was drawn to them. I gazed at them, and once again, it felt like they were there for a reason, but I didn't know why.

Every tattoo inked on me had a meaning. My fingers trailed down my left breast, lingering over the gently raised skin against which blossomed a deadly nightshade plant. A feral, wild girl peeked out from behind the glossy leaves and drooping violet blooms, with her shadow creeping along behind her. I didn't know what she stood for, either, but she was there for a reason.

Slipping out of my jeans, I traced the vine, dappled with silver roses, that trailed up my left thigh, across my lower stomach, ending near my ribs under my right arm. Entwined among the roses glimmered a trail of violet skulls, and right above my navel, a wolf stared out at the world through emerald eyes.

Grieve . . . the wolf was for Grieve, though I couldn't remember why I associated him with the animal. I'd had it inked on me when I was fourteen. As I gazed at the tattoo, a shiver raced through my stomach, and the wolf let out a low growl, his breath light against my skin. My body was hungry, and the feel of his soft breathing made me ache.

I closed my eyes and sucked in a deep breath. Time to get moving. We had no time to waste--Heather could be out there, hurt. Or worse. Practical possibilities raced through my mind--she might have fallen and hit her head, or broken a leg and found it impossible to manage the walk home. Any number of things could have happened. And yet . . . and yet . . . I knew that wasn't the case.

After jumping in the shower to rinse off, I towel dried and dressed in a clean pair of black jeans and a black knit turtleneck. Shrugging into my leather jacket, I took another look in the mirror.

"Right on." I might be Value-Mart chic, but I had the goth rocker chick look going on, and I wore it well. Turning sideways, I patted my abs. Tight, but not concave. While most women angsted over their weight, I didn't mind packing an extra twenty pounds. At five four, and one hundred-forty pounds, I was solid and muscled from my workouts and life on the road.

My hair was straight, draping just past my shoulders, jet-black and in need of a trim. I pushed the long bangs back behind my ears and stared at my face. The smooth, straight-as-silk strands contrasted against my green eyes and pale skin.

A gust blew against the window, startling me out of my thoughts. Welcome back, Cicely. Aren't you going to come say hello?

Cautiously, I opened the sash. The inner radiance I'd always associated with the copse had faded. The welcome mat had been pulled. As I stared at the forest, a shadow covered the wood. I leaned on the sill and stared out at the thicket, fat flakes of snow drifting down to blanket it in a lacework of white.

"Are you really still out there?" I whispered. "Are you waiting for me? Do you still want me? What happened, Grieve? The light's gone from the trees."

Grieve . . . You never forget your first love. I'd been six years old when we first met, but it was on a visit when I was seventeen that he took me in hand, laid me down, made love to me, and stole my heart. And I'd broken his.

Grieve . . . Was he still out there? My wolf told me he was. Was he waiting for me to find him again? Time would only tell. And did he know what happened to Heather? That . . . I could only hope.

There was only one way to find out the answers to my questions. I headed downstairs.

Leo Bryne was in the living room. I wasn't sure what I'd expected a day runner to look like, but whatever my expectations were, Leo didn't meet them. He was in his late twenties, tall with tawny hair and a crooked but sweet smile. Lean and a little gangly, the Windbreaker he wore made him look younger. Rhiannon introduced us.

"What's your specialty? Were? Magic-born?"

He grinned. "Witch. Herbs and healing." Then, sobering, he added, "Your aunt is training me in advanced studies. I can't believe she just upped and walked away without telling anybody."

"That's because she didn't. You know it. Rhiannon knows it. I know it. The only people deluding themselves are the cops. So, tell me, what does a day runner do?"

He blushed. "I run errands for Geoffrey and his wife that they can't do during the day. Pick up dry cleaning, personal shopping, mail off stuff at the post office, things like that."

"They pay well?" I knew I was being nosy but it didn't hurt to find out my options. Marta might have left me her business, but I doubted it brought much in the way of money.

"Eh--not bad. I get benefits, which helps." He caught Rhiannon around the waist with one arm and she rested her head on his shoulder. It was obvious they'd been going out for a while--they seemed so comfortable together. "And benefits will be important over the next few years."

Blushing, she swatted him off. "I haven't set the date yet, and until we find my mother, I can't even think about it. So shoo, pest."

Staring at the pair, I noticed then that Rhiannon was wearing a thin silver band on the right fourth finger of her hand. It had a diamond in it--minuscule, but a diamond nonetheless.

"You two are getting married?"

She smiled softly. "We're engaged to be engaged. But yeah, Leo is the one. We've been dating for three years now. Cicely, can we go look for Heather? It's getting colder out there and if she's caught somewhere . . ."

"Yeah. She could die of hypothermia. Bring a blanket, just in case we find her." Blankets were bulky but better safe than sorry.

I slipped out onto the back porch. Down the steps, a narrow stone path led into the backyard where the kitchen garden and herb gardens sprawled. There was no lack for privacy, that was for sure.

I was about to call out Heather's name, but then realized that it was ridiculous to hope she'd answer. I started walking the perimeter of the land toward the forest, leaving a trail of footprints in the fresh snow. I motioned for Leo and Rhiannon to head the other way.

Maybe my aunt had fallen and hurt herself. Maybe she'd hit her head on a rock and had knocked herself out. Maybe . . . a flash of snow lightning--a phenomenon that happened around the Pacific Northwest now and then--illuminated the sky, directly over the wood. I stared at the flickering light as the thunder hit, slamming through the air like a sledgehammer.

If Heather's around, please, blow me in her direction, I thought.

A gust sprang up, chilling me through, pushing me toward the northeast. Right toward the forest. Shit. Four members of the Society were dead. Five members were missing.

I headed toward the wood, first reluctantly, then my fear broke through and I set off, jogging across the lawn. As I neared the tree line I heard shouts behind me and looked over my shoulder to see Rhiannon and Leo following. I skidded to a halt and turned, waiting for them.

"You think she's in there?" Rhiannon said.

"The wind led me here." I glanced over my shoulder at the dark path that beckoned. At that moment, a figure came racing out, dark and spindly on two legs, with a bloated belly and long, jointed arms.

"What the fuck?"

The creature went straight for my throat and I stumbled back, clawing at it as it wrapped unnaturally strong arms around my neck. I smashed the palm of my hand into its nose, but it tightened its grip and everything began to go fuzzy. The next thing I knew, an owl swept out of the trees, savaging my attacker with its talons. As the bird spiraled up to get a better vantage, Leo jumped in, beating the creature off of me while Rhiannon tugged me away by one arm.

I scrambled to my feet, rubbing my throat as the thing let out a screech and backed off, hissing before it turned to disappear in the foliage.

"Crap and double crap. What the hell was that?" As I stared at the departing silhouette, I thought, Shadow, it reminds me of a thin, nasty shadow. And the owl--where had the owl come from? Owls were nocturnal, but this one had been on full alert. The owls banding my arms stirred. Startled, I stared down at my sleeves, but the sensation stopped.

Ulean, what's going on?

I don't know. But that creature was out for your blood. Be cautious, Cicely--this woodland is not what it once was.

"I don't know," Leo said. "I've never seen anything like it."

"Fae?" Rhiannon asked.

"I have no idea," I murmured. "Whatever it is, it's horribly strong. I don't think it expected you guys to help me. And the owl startled it."

Rhiannon turned to the forest, staring mutely at the trees. After a moment, she let out a long breath. "Do you think my mother came this way?"

Leo swallowed hard. "Maybe Heather went searching for my sister." He turned to me. "Elise, my sister, is one of the members of the Thirteen Moons Society. She vanished a few months ago."

"Somehow, I don't think Heather went in the forest to look for her," I said softly. "What about the Society? Can they help us?"

"Only Rupert, Tyne, and LeAnn are left, now that Heather's vanished," Rhiannon said. "With Marta dead, and Heather missing, I guess we could go to LeAnn."

"LeAnn has a new baby," Leo said. "We can't ask her to risk--"

But he was cut off when Rhiannon's head dropped back.

"She's here . . ." Her voice sounded far away, as if she were speaking through a tunnel, and her eyes glazed over with a white sheen.

"What is it? What do you see?" I let go of her hand and stepped back, motioning for Leo to give her some space. "Rhiannon, can you hear me?"

"That's what my sister looked like whenever she went into trance. She was a seer." Leo circled around behind her. "If she falls, I'll catch her."

"I hope she's okay. Rhiannon, can you hear me? Where are you?" If she didn't answer in another moment, I was going to shake her out of it. A trance as deep as the one she was in could suck a person under so far they'd never resurface. But then, her throat rattled and she opened her mouth. The voice that came out was ancient and keening, to where it might shatter like glass.