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I nodded, taking the stairs two at a time up to my suite. Camille was right. It was time to put a stop to the Hunters Moon Clan. We might not be able to thwart Shadow Wing by taking out this latest Degath Squad, but if we could get to the spirit seal before they did, we'd be another one up on the demon lord. And that would truly be reason to rejoice.
I slipped on a pair of tights, then a pair of jeans. Under a hunter-green turtleneck, I was wearing a cotton camisole. Layering was good; it wouldn't impede movement as much as a thick parka, and yet it would keep me warm.
I dug around in my closet until I found a black suede jacket that was warmer than my unlined leather one. Along with gloves, a black bandanna over my head to keep my ears warm, and a pair of light hiking boots, I figured I could withstand the weather and still make it through the bush. I studiously kept my mind off of Rhonda while dressing. Some thoughts were unnecessary torture.
Camille shocked the hell out of me. Rather than her usual long skirt, she'd opted for a pair of winter leggings and a heavy cowl-neck tunic over the top. The tunic clung to her thighs, molding to every curve. She was wearing a pair of lace-up ankle boots and leather gloves, and she slipped her short spider-silk cape over the top. Even geared up for the outdoors, she still looked like an ad out of Vogue, albeit much more curvy than the typical model.
"I've never seen you dressed so .. .functionally before," I said, grinning at her. "It's a change."
"I'm not thrilled with it, but hey, we're facing spiders, and they bite. I don't want to tempt them by leaving too much skin exposed," she said, rolling her eyes. "Let's get this show on the road."
When we entered the living room, Rhonda was there. I stopped dead in my tracks. She was a bombshell. Gorgeous, regal, and dominant. Shorter than me, she was athletic and sleek. Her mane of golden hair had been braided into a long French braid, and her outfit was perfectly pulled together, but her build screamed that she was far more than just a ski bunny. She'd be one tough cookie in a fight; that much was obvious. But it was more than her exterior that floored me. It was the way she held herself—as if she were queen of the pride. And maybe she was.
She held out her hand, and I reluctantly shook it. Her grip was firm and warm. Involuntarily, I drew closer, wanting to be part of her circle. But one step too far, and I felt the dividing line—a reserve not born of snobbery but of the inborn sense that she stood a few rungs farther up on the social ladder than I did and that she always would.
I pulled back, and we locked gazes.
"We're so glad you're here," Camille said, stepping in front of me and extending her hand. She paid no attention to Rhonda's glamour, and the werepuma seemed disarmed for the moment.
"Yes," Menolly said, joining us. "Thank you for coming. We can use the help." She, too, ignored Rhonda's demeanor and abruptly, after a quick shake, turned her back on her and went into the kitchen.>She frowned, looking at the spy. "All right. Delilah, write down everything he says." Following Trillian, she headed out of the kitchen.
Smoky slowly reached for the gag. As he lowered it, he said, "Any suspect move would be very bad for you right now. Do you understand?"
Horace nodded. "Yeah, I understand. Just don't turn me over to that creep from Hell," he said. "I'd rather be your boy toy any day. I know what they can do, and I don't want any part of their games."
Curious. What had happened to make him so afraid of Svartans? He was an Earthside Supe. It should be a long shot that he even knew about them.
"Your name is Horace von Spynne?" Smoky motioned to me, and I picked up a steno pad and pen.
"Yeah, yeah it is." He spat out the words.
Chase leaned back, arms crossed, as he eyed the spiderling closely. "Are you related to Geph von Spynne?"
Horace nodded. "He's my cousin."
I stepped up. "Were you here at our house before, with Kyoka?"
By the gasp he let out, it was apparent he wasn't expecting that question. "How do you know about him?"
"That's not your concern," I said, leaning down to stare him in the face. "We know a lot of things. We know all about Kyoka, and we know about the demons who are helping the Hunters Moon Clan. You realize you're pawns in Shadow Wing's game to take over this world? And that he won't leave you alive, no matter what he's promised?"
Horace blinked. "The Jansshi demon promised. And Kyoka won't let us down."
"He's already let you down," Smoky said. "He sent you on a suicide mission. You really think he doesn't know we're onto him? He's out for himself now, and the Hunters Moon Clan is just a tool to get what he wants."
I began to understand Smoky's strategy. Make Horace think Kyoka had sold out to the demons, and he might tell us everything we wanted to know.
"He's right," I said. "Kyoka knows that we're after him, and yet he sent you into danger, without a hope or prayer of surviving. What did he promise you in return for completing this mission? Money? Long life? Power?"
When Horace flinched, I knew I had hit a sore spot. "What happened? Were you in line for leadership of the clan before he returned? Did Kyoka yank away that dream?" When he didn't answer, I motioned to Smoky. "Might as well call in the Svartan and let him take our friend here away. Horace, I hope you're ready to face your worst nightmare—"
"No! I'll tell you," he shouted as Smoky headed for the door. "I'll tell you everything. I know what Svartans can do. Lianel is bad enough. Don't sic another one on me."
Lianel? Who the hell was Lianel? "All right, but you'd better spill everything you know, and you'd better do it quick." I forced as much menace into my words as possible, and Horace let out a shudder.
"What do you want to know?" he whispered.
"Why don't you start from the beginning?" I picked up my pen, and he opened his mouth.
