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"If you want, but I didn't find out that much."
"I'm putting you on speakerphone," I said, motioning to Camille and Menolly to listen in. I punched the button and picked up a notebook and pen. "Can you hear me? Go ahead."
Chase's voice sounded tinny coming over the speaker. "Okay, here it is. I got a hit on Zachary Lyonnesse. He was arrested two years ago for a bar brawl. He blamed the other guy for starting it, but when neither one would press charges, the case was dropped and they were both let go with a warning."
"Who was he fighting with?" I asked, writing down the information so I didn't forget it. It was better to err on the side of caution; I didn't want us making any mistakes we couldn't undo.
"Geph von Spynne."
"Spell it, please?"
Chase spelled it out and then continued. "He's a tall, gangly dude with short, spiked brown hair. He and Lyonnesse were really going at it. Zachary took a nasty knife wound to the shoulder. Doc counted thirty stitches to sew him up, but apparently Lyonnesse refused anesthesia. Didn't want any pain pills afterward, either. The witnesses in the bar say the two were out for blood."
Geph von Spynne. I didn't recognize the name, but it sounded oddly familiar, like I should know it but had just forgotten. "Your informants have anything on the Hunters Moon Clan or this von Spynne character?"
Chase cleared his throat. "Uh, no. The minute I mentioned his name—and the Hunters Moon Clan—all three of them clammed up and wouldn't say a word, even for the promise of a twenty-dollar bill. And these are guys that would rat out their mother for a shot of whiskey. My bet is that they know something, all right, but are too afraid to say anything. If you can find out anything more, I suggest you do. We should probably add this information to our database."
I blinked. "We'll do what we can. Did anybody talk to Siobhan?"
"On that score," his voice lightened, "we have better news. Jacinth set up an appointment to give her a thorough examination. With a little luck, we may be able to solve your friend's problem."
With a little luck… "Thanks, sugar," I said. "I'll talk to you tomorrow." As I hung up, I realized I'd developed a lump the size of a baseball in my stomach.
"Well, not much to go on," Camille said, frowning. "Where do we start?"
"I can comb the dregs at the Wayfarer for information," Menolly offered. "Somebody there might know something."
"Hold on." I raised my hand. "Something crossed my mind earlier this afternoon. The Hunters Moon Clan are spiderlings. They could have spies hiding out anywhere. In the corners of the bar. Or the house," I said softly, eying the ceiling.
"We aren't even certain they have anything to do with the . murders out at the Puma Pride enclave. Why would they have spies in the Wayfarer?" Menolly floated up to the ceiling and tinkered with the guy wire holding the tree in place. "There, that should do it," she said and returned to the floor.
"I have a hunch about this," I said. "Trust me; they're involved. And I know who we can talk to in order to dig deeper into their secrets, but I don't think you're going to like it. It's risky, but I think we have to chance it."
"Who are you talking about?" Camille said. "What risk?"
Menolly gazed at me, her eyes a pale frost that burrowed into my heart. "I know who you're talking about, and you're out of your mind."
I stared back at her, straightening my shoulders. "I know perfectly well what risks we'd run, but, Menolly, there's a lot more going on here than just a serial killer out to knock off the Puma Weres. I know it. I wish you'd believe me and show a little trust in my instincts."
"Kitten," she said softly, her gaze piercing right through me. The fact that Menolly seldom blinked still freaked me out. I turned my head to shake off her stare. It was a vampire thing; she'd never had that effect on me before. "It's not that we don't trust you, it's just that—"
"That's enough! I've had it." I stood, hands on hips, and faced down the both of them. "You both think I'm just a naive blonde bimbo, right? That I'm the baby of the family who can't think for—or take care of—herself?"
Camille sputtered, trying to backtrack. "Delilah, please. We never said anything like that. Neither one of us thinks you're stupid—"
"Just shut up and listen to me for once. Okay?" Fretting, I could feel the edges blurring. I closed my eyes and tried to keep control. The last thing I needed was to shift twice in one night. I took three deep breaths while they waited.
"Okay. Here's the thing," I said. "Both of you act like I'm full of bubbles, all happy-happy joy-joy. But that's not true. Not anymore, at least. Make no mistake about it; I liked believing in the good in people. I love sunshine and flowers and chasing mice. But all that's been cut short, thanks to Bad Ass Luke. Wisteria didn't help nurture my delusions, either. And I am so fucking pissed about it."
I still had a scar from where the renegade floraed had bitten my neck, trying to sever the artery. She was securely locked up back in Otherworld in the Elfin Queen's dungeon, however, so I tried to put her out of my mind.
Camille broke in. "Heard and noted, Delilah." She turned to Menolly. "I trust her hunches. She has cat magic. If her instincts are telling her this is the way to go, then I say let's do it. I wish I had half as much gut reaction as she gets. I have prescience thanks to my magical training, but it's not inborn. And you…" She stopped, then closed her mouth. Menolly had never had a sixth sense, unlike Camille and me.>"I couldn't if you were already dead. Maybe Camille could manage to zombify you, but—"
"It was a joke, damn it!" I struggled to pull myself out from under the tree. So far, nothing seemed to be broken. "Help me get out of this mess."
Menolly lifted the tree, while Camille pulled me up and dusted me off. Covered with sap and scratches, I gingerly-moved each leg and arm, then rolled my neck and shrugged my shoulders.
"Nothing broken," I said.
