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“Demon. I haven’t heard from them since they left last night around ten o’clock.” Chase glanced at his watch. “Should we be worried?”
“Maybe.” I crossed to the window and stared out at the blustery afternoon, my hands pressed against the glass. Autumn was in full swing, the rain was pounding down, and I dreaded hiking through the cemetery in this weather, in the dark of night. The Moon might reflect light through the clouds, but this wasn’t going to be a Sunday picnic, by any means.
Delilah joined me and placed one hand gently atop my own. “You had a rough night, didn’t you?” she asked softly.
“That’s the understatement of the year. Wait till you hear the whole of it. We’re in for one hell of a ride. And Venus the Moon Child is wrapped up in it all now. I’m afraid we’ve got some hard decisions coming up. Also, Father’s right in the thick of it.”
She wrapped her arm around my shoulders. “We’ll make it through. We always do. The odds are getting steeper, but so far, we’ve lucked out.”
Yeah, I thought, so far. But how long could our luck hold? How long before one of us went tumbling over the edge, onto the wrong end of a sword or in the path of a nasty spell? Shadow Wing could throw demon after demon our way, working up the ranks of his thugs until he found one that could match us, one we couldn’t stop. And then where would we be?
Suddenly gloomy again, feeling lost in a very big world, I rested my head on her shoulder, wishing for once that I could be as optimistic as she was.
CHAPTER 17
I crashed for a few hours until Menolly woke up. Trillian and Morio joined me, and though it felt incredibly good to have both of them in my bed, with us all together again, I couldn’t help but wonder what was going on with Smoky, but was too exhausted to dwell on it. This Hunt had been the hardest one I’d ever endured, save for the first, and my body and mind needed time to recharge. Unfortunately, we didn’t have the luxury of downtime, not with the work that waited for us in the cemetery.
When the alarm buzzed, Morio silenced it, and we all struggled out of sleep. I yawned and scrambled out from under the covers. Trillian handed me my robe, while Morio headed toward the bathroom. I blinked, gazing in the mirror on my vanity. I’d forgotten to remove my makeup and now it was smudged, but with five minutes, a little makeup remover, and the M.A.C. bonanza that filled the drawers of my vanity table, I was presentable again.
Morio slipped into a pair of indigo-wash jeans and a turtleneck, while Trillian chose a pair of leather pants and a turtleneck. They both washed up good, though Trillian had a faraway look in his eye that made me pause. When I asked, he shrugged, giving me a faint smile.
“I guess we’d better get downstairs,” I said when I realized I wasn’t going to get an answer. I slipped into a calf-length rayon skirt and a cowl-neck purple sweater. The night promised to be both cold and bloody. I wasn’t about to wear my best bustier into combat. I made sure my earrings were small—chandelier earrings were bad in battle; I’d found that out the hard way—and laced up my granny boots.
We trundled down to the kitchen where Chase had prepared dinner. Iris appeared, yawning, still in her bathrobe.
“Thank you for cooking, Chase,” she said. “I was worn through from the journey.”
I leaned over one of the pots and sniffed. “What’s that?” Whatever it was smelled good.
“Chicken and dumplings.” He spooned up one of the doughy blobs. The broth was steaming, heaven in a ladle, filled with shredded carrots, onions, celery, and meaty slices of chicken.
“What’s a dumpling?” I started to ask, but then stopped. “That’s right, Mother made them once in a while. Only she made sweet cinnamon dumplings in a big pot of applesauce.” I leaned in and spooned up a little of the broth.
Bad idea!
“Hot! Hot! Hot!” Pressing my hand to my lips, where a small blister was forming from the scalding spoon, I still couldn’t refrain from taking another taste. “But, oh, that’s good. I didn’t know you could cook like that.”
He winked. “Oh, I can cook all right. I learned early, if you’ll remember the things I told you about my childhood. It was either that or eat sandwiches all the time. Now get over to the table and I’ll bring you a bowl.”
As Delilah and Chase brought steaming bowls of the stew to the table, Menolly strolled in from the living room with Rozurial and Vanzir behind her. The demon twins looked beaten down. In fact, Roz looked like he had . . . shit, he did. His right eye was black-and-blue.
“What the hell happened to you?” I blurted out.
He shrugged. “Well, it wasn’t your maniac husband this time, at least.” With a sniff, he added, “I need some of whatever that is.”
“Sit. I’ll bring you some.” Delilah took his coat.
Vanzir straddled a chair next to the table and shook his head when Chase offered him a bowl. “Not hungry, thanks.”
Menolly slipped up behind me and gave me a quick hug. “Good to see you back, and Trillian, too,” she said.
“Hello, O Fangstress.” Trillian waved a knife in her general direction as he slid a thick pat of butter into the soup. “How’s tricks?”
“Getting trickier,” she said. “Put that away before you hurt someone. And welcome home.”
“We’re all glad you’re back,” Roz said to Trillian. “We need all the help we can get.”
“Good to see you.” Trillian nodded back. He stared at Vanzir. “You’re demon, aren’t you?”
