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Camille swung in behind me. "I've got your back," she whispered, her voice shaking.
I thought about her journey to Grandmother Coyote and wondered how she'd managed to weather it alone. The gods knew, I wouldn't want to be facing the Autumn Lord by myself. Nope, not going there. Not even remotely brave enough.
I stared at his hands, wondering whether to take them. A little voice deep inside urged me to go ahead. Running on instinct, I clasped his hands in my own.
Fire and ice. The shock almost knocked me over. One hand felt like it was burning up, the other like it had frozen solid. As the two opposing forces raced up my arms to meet at the base of my neck, they sent me reeling toward him. I stumbled into his arms, and he enfolded his cape of leaves around my shoulders and pulled me close.
From within the confines of the cloak I could hear Camille and Smoky shouting and then a noise shook the meadow like thunder, and all was silent. I struggled, but the Autumn Lord's grasp was strong, and he held me so tightly I could barely breathe. I struggled to shift form but couldn't do it. His magic was too strong, so I focused on breathing.
Inhale…
… the damp odors of decay and mildew, of bonfires at midnight swirled around me. They rode in on a gust of north wind, the boreal wind, murmuring tongues of ice and frost, the chilling touch of autumn.
Exhale…
… I slowly expelled the air from my lungs, taking with it a hint of the cold. And again.>"I see," I said in the iciest voice I could muster. Anger swarmed its way to the surface. I wanted to turn around and march back to the car right then and there. Let the Puma Pride clean up their own fucking mess.
"Let me get this straight," I said when I could manage words without tears. "You want our help, but you don't want us around. How generous. How kind of you to allow us to put ourselves in danger for your goddamn compound and yet look down your noses at us. Well, let me tell you this. Knowing what I now know, if I had my way, I'd wash my hands of the affair. You might as well deal with the murders on your own—you've all done such a great job so far."
"No!" He looked miserable, and I hoped he was. "I told you, that's not how I feel—"
"Oh, right. You're not speaking for yourself, just the rest of your Pride. Your precious family will accept our help because they're impotent, but you won't let us come out to your land because we're trash? Well, let me tell you this—I may watch Jerry Springer, and I may eat Ding Dongs, but I come from a proud family line."
"Delilah—please—" A panicked note filled his voice.
"Oh shut up! As I said, I'd turn around right now and go home except for one nasty matter. Your situation has become our problem. One of my friends, a neighborhood stray cat, was murdered as a warning. He was sucked dry and left for me to find, with a note telling me to back off."
"Don't blame our people for what the Hunters Moon Clan did—" he started to say, but I'd had enough.
"But it wasn't just the spiders involved! There was some heavy-duty cat magic hovering over the whole mess. A werepuma was hanging out with the freak who strung up poor Cromwell!"
My sudden outburst carried to the rest of the group. As they turned to stare, I realized I'd just spilled one of our secrets, but I didn't care. The only thing that mattered now was getting out of this mess with the least possible damage. We had a Degath Squad to catch, and why they were in league with the Hunters Moon Clan didn't matter. What did matter was that we find the demons and kill them.
Zach sputtered, and he reached out to catch my arm. "A werepuma? You didn't tell me this! Is that why you asked me if I could trust everybody—"
I shook him off. Memories of being taunted about our heritage when we were children sprang up, the images and insults all too fresh in my mind. "Go to hell, you and your whole bigoted clan. Once we find out who's been killing your precious members, you can pay us for the job, and we'll never sully your door again."
Smoky suddenly strode over and grabbed both of us by the ears. "You are holding up this little jaunt. Keep your arguments for later. Do you understand?"
I stared up at the dragon. His gaze was a glacial rift in a frozen ocean. Smoky meant business, and I had the feeling he wouldn't hesitate to resort to force if we disobeyed.
"Fine," I said. "Let's go." I pulled away and marched forward. The impulse to transform was strong, but I tried to ignore it. I wanted nothing more than to run off and chase moths and forget about all the stress and tension, but this was the wrong place to let my tabby out to play.
I struggled, forcing myself to stare at the scenery, to think about the Yule tree at home and how beautiful Iris would make it, to think about Chase and how much he cared about me. Anything to distract myself. Finally, with another deep breath, I let my anger go, promising myself that when we got home I'd kick the Puma Pride to the curb.
As we trudged along, Zach tried to speak to me, but I sped up until I was a few steps behind Camille and Morio.
The overshadowing lacework of branches from the giant firs and cedars stretched across the path, forming an interwoven canopy that shut out much of the approaching dusk. Juniper, huckleberry, and salal bushes crowded the trunks, but even they looked worn and ragged. The forest floor was littered with frost-covered leaves and brown needles, and here and there a patch of snow still shimmered where the shade had protected it from melting. The path was rife with tree roots that poked up through the detritus.
As we ventured farther into the forest, the trees grew darker, as if a consciousness had risen to permeate the wood since the last time we were here. The presence felt watchful and ancient, primal in that way Earth's forests had. They were far less welcoming than the woodlands of Otherworld and, as much as I loved being outside, I was always cautious when I walked the back paths here. Even the trails crisscrossing our own land carried that watchful, wary energy.
As we made our way through the woods, I thought I caught a glimpse of some fey creature here and there, hiding behind a moss-covered trunk or a downed limb of deadwood. Each time I'd focus my attention in the direction of the watchful eyes, and there would be nothing to see save for a leaf quivering in the breeze.
Most FBHs confused the Fae with nature spirits. While both sprang from similar roots, there were vast differences. My father's people were more humanlike than nature spirits, who were often queer and unpredictable, born into shapes that left thoughts of humanity long behind. Nature devas often took on the qualities of the plants they were connected to, and most were wary of both human and Fae alike.
I took a deep breath and, forcing myself forward, joined Camille. Smoky was striding ahead, leading the way. Morio dropped back to talk to Zach, and they spoke in soft whispers. I wondered what they were saying, but my pride kept me from asking.
A scurrying sound from the side announced the presence of a dog or coyote, but I could sense no hint of magic. Whatever was out there was four-legged and probably going to stay that way. As we headed deeper into the wood, the temperature started to drop, and I pulled my jacket close and zipped it. A glance at the sky promised new snow.
