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As we jolted along, I turned around in my seat. Camille and Menolly looked quiet, both lost in thought. I reached over the backseat and lightly rested my hand on Camille’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” I said softly. “I never meant to imply you didn’t know what you were doing. I admit that I thought you did what you did for different reasons, but I was wrong. I’ll never doubt your actions again. You’ve held us together for a long time, and I trust you.”
Her eyes glistened. “Thanks, Kitten. I appreciate that.”
Menolly rolled her eyes, but she nodded. “Double that from me, too. We’re a team, and we have to stick together. Let’s leave the infighting to the politicians.”
That was as good as a tearful apology from our sister, the vampire, and Camille knew it. She sniffed and dashed her hand across her eyes. “Man, I’m tired. I just want to get tonight over and go home and sleep. I have so much to think about from today.”
“Yeah, especially since you know that Trillian’s just playing undercover spy again and not really in danger. Pretty shabby of him not to tell you,” Menolly said, then glanced at me. She’d gone too far, and she knew it. Menolly was great in a fight, but diplomacy was a long ways from being one of her strong suits.
Camille stared at her, then shook her head. “Don’t even go there. I’ll deal with Trillian later.” Her voice said case closed in no uncertain terms.
I turned back around in my seat. What the hell was going on? We’d never been at each other’s throats like this. Of course, we weren’t really arguing, I tried to tell myself. We were all tired, stressed out, and facing yet another night of battle against some undead fiends.
“Maybe we’ll get lucky, and they’ll just be a bunch of Caspers,” I said, trying to lighten the mood.
Menolly laughed. “Ever the optimist, that’s our Kitten.”
After a moment, Camille joined her. “Yeah, maybe. For once I’d like to see her optimism pay off. Maybe if we wish real hard . . .”
“And find some ruby slippers!” Menolly added.
“Oh stop it, you two!” But I wasn’t mad. At least I had them laughing, and that was a good sign. “Next you’ll be telling me to clap really hard or Tinkerbelle will die.”
“Yeah, well, Tinkerbelle has it easy, the little slacker,” Camille said, snorting. “All she has to do is fly around on TV and look cute. We’ve got the real world to deal with.”
“Speaking of real world, ladies, get ready. We’re about to park and go for a little hike. I hope you all wore warm clothing,” Roz said. He directed Morio to pull into a turnoff.
As we piled out of the car into the chill evening air, I noticed there was a fire pit nearby. It was rough, a small circular hole that had been lined with chunks of stone. There had been a blaze in it recently, but by the smell of the charcoal, it had rained since then, so it had to be a few days old.
I knelt down beside the ring of stones and examined the debris next to it. A couple of beer cans, a wrapper from a Whopper, a few cigarette butts. “I don’t think any demons or ghosts left this stuff lying around.”
Roz shook his head. “Ten to one, this was where the prospectors made camp. This road is seldom used. The man we talked to said that it used to be an old logging road but that a new one had been built a decade ago, and now this one’s primarily used by hunters and hiking enthusiasts who don’t mind a rough jaunt into the wilderness.”
Rough jaunt? Delightful. I stood, wiping my hands on my jeans. “What now? Which way?”
Vanzir pointed out a trail, barely discernible through the waist-high grass. We geared up and, following the incubus and the dream chaser, plunged into the undergrowth.
The path immediately began to descend, and at first I wondered if we were really heading the right way. Weren’t most caves supposed to be up on a cliff face rather than down in a ravine? But then the path opened out into a narrow walkway that ran alongside a deep gully. The gully overlooked a stream flowing a good fifty to sixty feet below. The drop-off was immediate and steep, with no shoulder to cushion the way should anyone fall. While the trail was wide enough for two to walk abreast, we fell into single file.
I glanced across the streambed. The cliff on the other side of the ravine was covered in timber. From where we were, I could see that the trail led to a narrow bridge that spanned the stream. The bridge was a wooden trestle, the supporting timbers weathered and old. I’d guess at least a hundred years, if not more. No doubt, it had been used by the prospectors and hunters who had wandered through the mountains. The loggers, however, would have had to use a different bridge. I couldn’t see any vehicle-accessible road from where I stood.
Zach, who was right behind me, gasped and stopped in his tracks. He pointed toward a ledge on the opposite side of the ravine. I followed his gaze and found myself staring at a magnificent puma. She was a lioness, that I knew by instinct, and she was no Were, just pure, primal feline. And she was watching us—Zach and me primarily. I could feel her stare etch itself all the way into my bones.
Zach leaned closer to me. “She’s lactating.”
I knew. Somehow, I knew. The mother cat had kittens, and they were probably somewhere near, hidden from prying eyes. I scanned the cliff wall but could see nothing. My gaze wandering back to the mother puma, I took a deep breath and sent a wave of goodwill toward her.
Tears welled up as she leaned her head back and let out a roar. Longing rang in the call, and fear, and anger. Something was wrong. I knew it, and while I wasn’t sure what it was, she needed help.
Before I knew what I was doing, I’d pushed ahead of the pack and—with Zach right behind me—found myself racing across the bridge. Camille and Roz were shouting behind us, but my attention was totally caught up by the mother lion. She needed help, and she recognized that we could offer it to her.
As we jogged across the bridge, I saw that Zach had shifted into his puma form. Without a thought, without warning, I found myself shifting, too—this time not into Tabby but into Panther. What the—? The Autumn Lord controlled me in this form. What were his concerns with the puma?
And then I heard him, buried deep in my thoughts, deep in my heart. “She is under my protection, as are all of Einarr’s descendants. Her mother was a werepuma who chose to return to the wild and stay on four legs. The daughter cannot shift, but she can recognize shifters. Help her in what she needs. Just because you’re a Daughter of the Grave doesn’t mean you can’t help the living.”
In the blink of an eye, his presence withdrew, but I remained in panther form. Zach and I loped along, side by side, in silence. There was no trail leading up to the lioness, but we didn’t let that stand in our way. I reveled in my strength and power as we leapt from rock to rock, forelegs touching down even as hind legs pushed off the boulders. We bounded up the cliff, and I felt like I could run forever, intoxicated by the cascade of scents and sounds that washed over me.
