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With the bitch queen off in the Southern Wastes, we no longer needed to worry, so the directional magic had been retuned to its normal destination, and legitimate OW visitors were once again flowing through the portal on a regular basis. And the Faerie Watchers Club was back in action to greet them, sans Erin as president. Henry Jeffries, a regular customer and part-time employee at the Indigo Crescent, had taken over the helm of the group.
Tavah was waving good-bye to an elf who was stepping into the portal. As we watched, a brilliant light flashed, and the elf quickly vanished in a flurry of sparkling dust. Faerie dust. I snorted. Literally.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
Tavah nodded. She was a vampire, too. Full Fae and not at all picky about her meals, though I’d bound her to a promise not to attack any of our guests. “Yeah, nothing out of the ordinary. No trolls, no goblins. Ever since the portal was reprogrammed back to Y’Elestrial and Queen Tanaquar set up guardians on the other end, we haven’t had much trouble. A party of seven Svartans are scheduled to come through in about an hour. Thought you’d like to know.”
Camille perked up, and Tavah shook her head. “Sorry, Camille, no Trillian listed among them.”
“Figures,” Camille muttered.
“Be sure to log their intended itinerary and length of stay. There’s no telling how much that will help, but chances are they’re going to be charming the pants off anybody they meet, and probably the money out of their pockets.” I motioned to my sisters. “Come on, let’s get you situated.”
We headed down the dimly lit hallway to the safe room. The enclosure had been enchanted by Otherworld Intelligence Agency wizards when the Wayfarer was first retrofitted for OW use. From the most powerful sorcerers’ groups around—at least on the right side of the law—the wizards had embedded the magic directly into the molecular structure of the walls. They had altered the makeup of the wood and metal, had fortified it to withstand attack from both physical and magical means. The Wayfarer might burn to the ground or blow up, but the room would be left standing. And no one could teleport in or out by any method we’d run across.>“I can think of one option,” Camille said, frowning as she gently brushed Delilah’s bangs out of the way. “It wouldn’t be all that fun, but it will probably keep you safe for now.”
“What is it?” Delilah sat up. “I don’t want that thing in my head again. It feels like it’s raping my soul.” She burst into tears, and within seconds, a frightened, meowing golden tabby was shivering on the sofa in her place. I scooped her up and cuddled her as she snuggled close, hiding her head in the crook of my arm.
“Poor Kitten, you’ve had it rough tonight, haven’t you? And shifting that quickly isn’t going to help; I know it stings when you transform so fast.” As I murmured gently to her, she finally began to purr. I scratched her ears for a bit, and Camille hunted through the shed till she found some spare cat food, which Delilah scarfed down. After about ten minutes, I felt the familiar hum in her body that told me she was about to shift again.
As soon as she’d changed back, Delilah gave us all a contrite smile. “I’m sorry. I’m just under a lot of stress, and having a demon rooting around in my mind didn’t help.”
I rested a hand on her shoulder. I knew exactly how she felt, thanks to Dredge. Violations like that didn’t go away easily.
“What were you going to say?” Delilah asked Camille.
Camille shrugged. “I may be off base, but what about the warded room down at the Wayfarer? The one where we stashed Vanzir until we could perform the Ritual of Subjugation? Think for a moment. The room is barred to all astral, etheric, and demonic forces. If Vanzir couldn’t get out, then the Karsetii shouldn’t be able to get in.”
“You might have something there.” I’d forgotten about the panic room, as we’d taken to calling it.
Camille nodded, eager. “What do you say, Delilah? We could carry one of the sofas from the upper rooms down, make sure you have blankets, food, and some books. I know it’s not the most appealing option, but it might keep you safe,” she added.
Delilah let out a long sigh. She looked over at Vanzir. “On pain of the symbiont you wear around your neck, tell me this. Were you truly unable to break out or communicate with anybody in there?”
Vanzir’s gaze flickered slightly, and I wondered what he was thinking. But all he said was, “I didn’t really try, to be honest, but yes—the room muted my ability to sense anything outside of its walls. I doubt if the demons from the deep would be able to break through.” He gave her a concerned smile. “It’s creepy in there, though—I’ll say that much for it. Very quiet. Made me feel like I was cut off from the world.”
“I won’t be able to help you out much once I lock myself in there,” she said. “Laptops and cell phones won’t work through the magical static. And I have to be out by Tuesday night. Wednesday’s the full Moon, and if I’m locked up when she ripens, I’ll go crazy.”
I glanced at Camille. “That means we have to find out where this thing is from, why the hell it woke up after two thousand years, and then we have to kill it. All in just a couple of days. Do you think we can do it?”
Camille shrugged. “We’ve done the impossible before.”
“Let’s book. We’d better hurry before the creature comes back. Since it’s got a trace on Delilah, she seems to have become its primary target.”
Everybody moved then, even Yssak, who followed us back to the house.
Yssak looked cautiously around as he entered the kitchen.
“Never been Earthside, have you?” I asked, motioning to Iris. “Iris, please help Delilah gather up a backpack of clothes. Also some books, games, a blanket or two, pillow . . . let’s see . . . water bottles and snacks. Oh, add toilet paper and soap to that list. The panic room at the Wayfarer has a small bathroom attached, but I don’t think it’s stocked with any supplies.”
With a blink, Iris turned and sped out of the room, followed by Delilah. One thing I had to say about the sprite—she moved fast when need arose.
Yssak was staring at the refrigerator. “The box is humming.”
“Yeah, well, it does that. We’ll explain later. By the way, why did Father send you over here? We got so caught up with the demon that we forgot to ask.” I grabbed my keys off the pegboard next to the phone.
He snapped to attention. “Your father sent me with news. First: It’s believed that Lethesanar fled to the Southern Wastes, but no one knows for sure, so Lord Sephreh bids you be cautious. While it’s doubtful the deposed queen would come through the portals, one never knows.”
It was odd to hear our father called Lord. For so many years it had been Captain while he was in the Guard Des’Estar. Did this mean the three of us would be more acceptable to the nobility who flocked around the Court and Crown like vultures around a carcass?
