Witchling (Otherworld/Sisters of the Moon #1)

Witchling (Otherworld/Sisters of the Moon #1) Page 17

"Won't you sit down, beautiful lady?" he asked.

I accepted his invitation, sliding into the opposite seat. As I cradled my wineglass in my hands, it dawned on me that this was no chance meeting. He'd been waiting for me, though I didn't know how or why. After a moment's silence the air around him rippled. Magic, all right.

"Grandmother Coyote said you might be able to use my help," he said abruptly. As he blinked, his chocolate eyes turned a startling shade of topaz.

Bingo. I knew I sensed something familiar about him. His scent was thick with musk, but beneath the masculine odor, I could detect the subtle smell of Grandmother Coyote's energy mingling in his aura—as if she'd leaned against his shoulder or patted him on the back.

I took a sip of my wine and contemplated this odd turn of events. "Perhaps." Toying with my drink, I gazed at him, trying to figure out just who he was. Menolly was right. He wasn't from the Sub Realms. That much I could tell, so he couldn't be the Psycho Babbler, as charming as he might seem.

That left the question as to whether he was in league with Bad Ass Luke. Whoever he was, he was handsome, with shoulder-length hair the color of charcoal, smooth and shining and gathered back in a pony tail. He had no facial hair save for a small goatee and a pencil-thin mustache, and while his build was slight, he looked wiry under the green cable-knit sweater. Hmm… he really was cute. What might he be wearing below that sweater? I couldn't very well ask him to stand up so I could see his pants.

Shaking myself out of my reverie, I said, "So, who are you?"

The corner of his lips crooked into a cunning smile. My pulse revved, and I shifted in my seat, wondering if he could read me.

He gave a little laugh. "Morio. I just arrived in town."

Morio? That was a Japanese name.

"Not from Otherworld, you didn't," I said before I could stop myself. "You aren't one of the Sidhe. What are you?" Whoops… very rude. In Otherworld it was considered the height of bad manners to ask what someone was upon first greeting. I backtracked. "Excuse me… bad manners. My name's Camille. So Grandmother Coyote pointed you my way? How did you know I'd be here tonight?"

"I followed you from your house." He brushed away a shoulder-length strand of hair that had come loose from his ponytail.

Shit, then he also knew that Menolly and I were connected. I prayed that he was really on our side. "You've been watching me? I don't appreciate that."

Morio shrugged. "You wouldn't have noticed me if I hadn't told you, so don't worry about it. I arrived from Japan yesterday." He glanced around the tavern. "I haven't been here in a while. The giant's gone." With a quick gesture at Menolly, he leaned forward. "I won't tell your secret. Or hers."

I sucked in a deep breath. Direct questioning wasn't going to work on him. "What do you want with me?"

He traced an intricate pattern on the table. I tensed—the weave looked like spell work, but I couldn't feel any magic emanating from it, so I tried to relax. "It's not what I want with you," he said. "It's what I can do for you."

"And what can you do for me?" I leaned forward, realizing that I was asking more than one question.

"I can help you find that which you seek," he said. "I know the forest. I know how to track, to sniff out and seek."

He lifted his head, locking me in with his gaze. His slow smile ran through my veins like fine wine, disorienting me as the energy of the woodland closed in around us. Dark and deep, old and wild, it wove itself like a cloak around his shoulders. "Whatever you want beyond that, I'm sure I can provide."

As I caught my breath, I realized he was an Earthside spirit and that he belonged to this world. "Did Grandmother Coyote call you in on our behalf?"

Another smile, another yank into a swirling kaleidoscope of leaves and twigs and roots plunging deep into the earth. "Not exactly, but she showed me those who threaten this world. My world. I'm at your disposal. Put me to work."

He lifted his glass to salute me, and I returned the compliment, wondering what to do next. My question was answered when Menolly caught my attention. She hadn't lifted a finger, but we were sisters, and I could feel when she called me. I glanced over at the bar to where she stood, a small book in her hand. A traveler's notebook, an elastic band held the pages closed. Jocko's diary.

"You'd better go talk to her. I'll wait for you," Morio said.

As I slowly stood, keeping my eye on my new companion, it occurred to me that Morio had affected me in a way no man had since before I'd met Trillian. Whether that boded for good or ill remained to be seen.

Menolly gave me a quizzical look as I approached the bar. I asked for another white wine, then leaned over the counter. "We need to talk."

"I can't get off duty right now, and after work I want to look around and see if I can figure out who was helping Bad Ass Luke from here. But take the journal with you. By the way, who's the hot-to-trot? Please don't tell me he's on Shadow Wing's side."

I raised one eyebrow and glanced back at Morio, who lifted his glass in my direction. "I'm not sure yet, but he's an emissary from Grandmother Coyote, and if he's a demon, he's an earthbound one. I'm certain he's not in league with our big bad boys from the netherworlds. I'd smell them on him."

"Really?" Menolly topped off my glass and pushed it across the counter, along with the diary. "I've been watching you two. You've got something going on there. Be interesting to find out just what he is… maybe a wizard?"

I shook my head. "Don't think so, but can't tell yet. Okay, I'm leaving, and I'll probably take him with me."

"Planning on doing some undercover work?" she asked, snickering.

I started to make a smart-assed retort, but who was I kidding? "I wouldn't mind finding out what's under that smooth exterior, I'll tell you that. His name's Morio, by the way. If anything happens to me, go to Grandmother Coyote and ask her what's going down." Sliding the diary into my purse, I drained the glass, then strode back over to the booth, where I nodded to Morio. "You coming?"

Without a word, he stood, slid his shoulder bag, and followed.

The rain whipped so hard that I cringed; my legs felt like they were under attack by a swarm of bees. Morio didn't seem to notice, but he did know where I'd parked and led me directly to my car. As I unlocked the doors, I wondered if I was crazy getting behind the wheel with this strange creature by my side. Inhaling deeply to calm myself, I fastened my seat belt and waited while he did the same.

"We're going back to your house?" he asked.

I glanced at him quickly. "Why?"

"That seems most logical. You need to sleep before tomorrow. We are going looking for Tom Lane, aren't we?"

I sighed. "Listen, I don't know what you are, or how you know so much, but bad manners or not—I want some straight answers. You say Grandmother Coyote told you about me, you say you watched our house, and you knew which car was mine. What's going on?"

He grinned then, a full-fledged, delightful grin that made me want to lean over and kiss him. "Camille, your temper's showing."

Charmer or not, I was at the point of ordering him out of the car when I caught a glimpse of something darting toward us from the alley. I gasped as a large black silhouette leapt toward the front of the car and smashed a rock into the windshield. The glass shook but didn't shatter, although a crack slowly streaked from one side to the other. Dazed, I stared dumbly at the creature who loomed in my headlights. That is, until I realized that it was coming around to my side.

"Fucking hell!" I screamed, suddenly noticing that Morio had hold of my wrist and was yanking me over the gearshift onto his seat. He'd already thrown his door wide and was outside like a light, dragging me with him.

"Run," he said, pushing me toward the lighted intersection. "Run!"

I had only taken a few steps before my heel caught on a hole in the sidewalk and I went sliding, face-first, along the concrete. Wincing as wet gravel lodged itself into my palms and chin, I forced myself to roll to my feet, kicking off my shoes as I did so. I whirled around, but all I could see was a blur.

Then, in the midst of the downpour, I caught sight of Morio. Our attacker was nowhere to be seen. Morio glanced around, then turned my way. I saw that he was holding something, trying to get it into the shoulder bag. I managed to catch a glimpse of an ivory rounded object with glowing red eyes. A skull? I couldn't be certain, but it looked like it.

He closed the bag, then leaned his head back, as if sniffing the air. After a moment, he strode over to me and held out his hand. Still wary, I took it, and he scooped me into his arms with no more effort than I'd have scooping up Maggie. It would seem that Morio was a lot stronger than he looked.

"What the hell was that thing?" I asked, not bothering to ask why he was carrying me. I figured he had his reasons, and I had no objections to being in his arms. In fact, it felt pretty damned good.

"A skinwalker. Earthbound, but probably in league with darker forces. I warded it off, but it won't stay away long. Come, we have to get out of here before it returns with reinforcements." He carried me back to the driver's side of the car. As soon as he was in, I peered around the cracks in the windshield, pulled into traffic, and shot off.

Along the way, Morio remained silent, enjoining me to wait until we were safe to ask any more questions. I had to warn Menolly, though, so pulled out my cell phone and punched number three on the speed dial.

Two rings later, Menolly answered.

"Listen, we've got trouble."

"Morio?" As usual, she was blunt and to the point.

"No. We're on the way home right now. We were attacked by something called a skinwalker after we left the bar. It was only a few blocks from the Wayfarer, so you need to be careful. Get someone you trust to walk you to your car when your shift is over. If you have to, call Chase, but I don't know if bullets would work on that thing. Call me before you leave and again when you're safely on the road."

I could hear the hesitation in her voice. "Are you sure you're safe with Morio?"

With a laugh, I shook my head, even though she couldn't see me. "I'm not sure we're safe anywhere," I said. "Talk to you later."

The rest of the ride was uneventful. As I pulled into our driveway, I tuned in to the wards I'd set up around the property. They glowed at the corners of the land, a soft white, holding fast. Nothing happened to Morio as we passed through them, so he couldn't be too bad.

I parked and turned off the ignition. Thank the gods we'd made it home safe. But if Morio had found our house, had anybody else? I thought about Maggie, in there alone, and bounded up the porch stairs, barefoot. I fumbled with the key, finally managing to unlock the door, and hurried into the darkened hallway.

Morio was right behind me. "I'll help you check the house," he said, as easily as if he lived here.

"Okay, you can help, but no going through things that are none of your business. Got it? No funny stuff."

He shrugged. "Funny is good, it keeps a soul healthy. Lead on, lady."

We searched the house from top to bottom, although I conveniently ignored the basement. The entrance, hidden behind the bookcase door, stayed safely off-limits. Menolly's lair was sacrosanct.

As we returned to the living room, satisfied that nobody was lurking in the hall closet or under the beds, Morio set his bag down on the love seat and quickly assumed the lotus position next to it. Mighty flexible, I thought, wondering in what other ways he might be flexible. My body was jumping on the bandwagon my mind had already commissioned and set into motion.

I offered him a drink, and he accepted a beer. As I handed it to him, he stared at me, appraising me from head to toe, and the appraisal looked good. I licked my lips. While I was used to men staring at me—if only for the size of my breasts—this was different. This could lead to something, and coming so soon on the trail of Trillian's visit, I wasn't sure whether that was a good idea or not.

I settled down in the recliner. "All manners aside, tell me who you are."

He cracked a smile. "I can see you won't be satisfied with a simple explanation."

"Not on your life. Spill it, as the locals say."

He shrugged. "You know my name—Morio—and I told you the truth. Grandmother Coyote sent me to help you. I'm one of the yokai-kitsune."

"Kit what?" For all I knew, it could be a family clan name, a tribe, or some secret fraternal order.

"Yokai-kitsune. Fox demon would be a close translation."

Demon ? Oh shit! I jumped up and looked around wildly for the nearest weapon. The silver short swords my father had given to each of us were safely ensconced in a cabinet in the parlor. Since the closest thing I could reach was a sofa cushion, I held out my hands to gather the moon's energy, hoping that she wouldn't fail me now.

He cocked one eyebrow. "You're going to attack me? Oh, that's nice."

Hesitating, I stared at him, waiting. "Then you really aren't from the Subterranean Realms? Why would Grandmother Coyote send you here?"

Morio snorted. "No, I'm not from down under, and she sent me because you obviously can't handle this situation on your own. If I'd been from the netherworlds, you'd be toast by now, and I'd be feasting on your bones." He patted the seat beside him. "Now, sit down and quit being a drama queen!"

Of all the arrogant, smarmy—I paused when I looked into his upturned face. He was patiently waiting for me to do as told. I wanted to stomp off into the kitchen; however, this situation was going from bad to worse, and we needed all the help we could get. I sat down, sighing.