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"Humans rule this world, or so they think, but there have been minority groups down through history, Chase. There's always somebody on top, and too often they've gotten there on the shoulders of those who don't have the strength or numbers to protest." I slipped out from under the covers. "Hold on a minute; I'll be right back."
I hurried into my studio, where I kept my laptop, and then scampered back into bed. Plugging it into the outlet by my nightstand, I turned it on and waited for it to boot up. After typing my password in, I pulled up a browser.
"What are you doing?" Chase asked, scooting closer so he could look over my shoulder.
"I'm going to look up my notes on the victims." I pulled up Note One and clicked on the tab labeled Puma Pride, then the section I'd created for notes about the victims. "They had two things in common. One, they were all members of the Puma Pride."
"Not all," Chase said. "Don't forget about the plumber guy. Ben Jones?"
"You're right—okay, but Ben seems to be the lone oddball. Maybe the murderer thought he was a member of the Pride? Anyway, the other commonality is that they were found out by the arrastra in Pinnacle Creek. And that's right below Pinnacle Rock, where we found the cave that the werespiders were using."
I thought about it for a moment. "You know what I think? I don't think there is a pattern other than the werespiders believing they were all Puma Pride members. I think that they just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. But nobody is safe on that land now. The Hunters Moon Clan has to know their cave's been discovered, especially if Tyler's mixed up in this. They won't wait much longer before they start moving toward the houses. They're taking down the entire clan as they search for any sign of the second spirit seal. My guess is that Kyoka's killing off the Puma Pride members for revenge. Wipe out the Puma Pride, get the spirit seal, kill two birds with one stone."
"So Shadow Wing reincarnated this Kyoka as a werepuma?" Chase looked confused. "I don't understand how that works."
"Neither do I, but it's my bet that Kyoka wasn't reincarnated. I think he stole a body. Shamans can do that, if they're strong enough, and Kyoka had to be incredibly strong to turn his tribe into werespiders. With the other two newcomers to the Pride checking out, ten to one it's Tyler. And Tyler's probably the real name of whoever it was that owned that body before Kyoka took possession as a walk-in."
Walkins were souls who literally went on body-snatching missions. They either obliterated or possessed a soul, imposing their will over that of the original host. It was a frightening power, and rare, but it happened from time to time. Tyler must have been weak-willed, sickly, or willing to let himself be used. Or Kyoka was just a freakishly strong shaman.
"Walkins," Chase said. "I've heard of them but never really believed in their existence. Of course, I didn't believe in a lot of things until you girls came along." He let out a rueful laugh. "Boy, did I have a lot to learn. Looks like I still do. Makes work a blast, though."
"Speaking of work, do you still have a job with the force since the OIA is pulling out?"
"Yeah, though Devins would give his right arm to bust my butt down to the street again. But I've done too much for the department. They'll probably just put me back on a basic beat. Homicide, no doubt."
"Hmmm," I said, thinking. "Who does the OIA officially report to in your department?"
Chase frowned. "Me. Why?"
I grinned. "Good. And who else do they talk to there?" The idea just seemed better and better to me. We could create our own OIA and still have full use of the department's files.
"Just the medics—wait a minute, I think I can see where you're going with this. You want me to go on like nothing happened!" He rolled out of bed and strode toward the bathroom. "That's ridiculous. We're bound to get caught."
"How?" I called out, following him and standing beside the closed door. "Devins doesn't ever ask you what's going on. You, yourself, told me that he doesn't give a damn unless it's something that could make him look like a hero. The medics report to you, and they're all elves. They're not going to pull out. It's perfect. We can remake the OIA the way it should be run. Once we contact the other agents who are staying here, we can include them in the loop. Since they're pro-Tanaquar, they'll be eager to help. I'm certain of it!"
Chase finished peeing and came out of the room, wiping his hands on the towel. I liked that he was clean. He smelled like the wildflower soap I had on the vanity counter.
"You really mean it, don't you?" He stared at the bed, a furrowed line of concentration creasing his brow. "Do you think we can pull it off?"
"If we can't, then Earth is doomed," I said glumly. "Otherworld, too. The demons will find a way in, and there won't be anything left."
Chase let out a long sigh. "I think you're crazy, for what it's worth. But if it works… maybe we can pull together a ragtag team. We could base everything out of Seattle and hire our own operatives from the Supe and human community."
"The problem would be how to pay them. We'd have to keep Devins in the dark about the fact that they aren't being sent from OW. And we have to redirect the Wayfarer portal to point away from Y'Elestrial, which might arouse suspicions unless we rig it so it seems to be broken." I sighed. "The logistics are huge, but I don't see any other choice."
"Maybe we can find volunteers," Chase said. "People we can tell the truth to, who would be willing to put in time in order to stop Shadow Wing's attempts. We could use a few medical personnel, especially those who know about Fae body chemistry. And we need somebody really good with computers, because we're going to have to be on top of everybody's whereabouts."
I grinned. Computer programmer, huh? "I might be able to take care of that. I know just the person."
"Let's sleep on it." Chase snuggled under the covers and reached for me. I rolled against him and smiled. He had an erection that wouldn't stop giving. "How about another round of grab and tickle?"
Snickering, I reached down and clasped hold of him. "I'll take care of the grab, you just be sure to take care of tickling me in all the right ways," I whispered.
I wasn't disappointed.
The raucous call of birds quieted down as I stalked my way through the jungle. Rain splashed out of the skies, leaving diamond droplets on the arboreal canopy that wove together a latticework of vegetation covering the path and everything below.
Dusk had fallen, and soon my enemy would be out to hunt. I paused to listen at every scuttle, every sound of some creature moving through the foliage. The ground was pungent as I silently traced my route, the sour tang of decaying leaves mingling with that of mold that spread like fragile veins through the soil and toadstools popping out of the moss.
