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I silently withdrew the third finger bone and this one I recognized. Shit, it was the finger I’d chopped off Bad Ass Luke after we took him down. It was also the first payment I’d ever made to Grandmother Coyote. I held it up so Delilah and Morio could see it and mouthed his name, then passed it over.
Grandmother Coyote took the bone and let out a long sigh. After a moment, she gazed up at me. “There is dissension in the ranks. There is a reason the Bonecrusher seeks your alliance. And it has everything—and nothing—to do with Shadow Wing, whose attention is turned elsewhere at the moment. Don’t be fooled by her. She has her gaze fastened on a victory different than the one you think. Right now, if you strike on the heels of her attack, you have the chance to take out the lamia’s encampment. She’s expecting fear. Show courage and offense.”
“So . . . attack. Even though it seems foolhardy. Should I ask Aeval for her help?”
Grandmother Coyote dropped the bones back into the bag and cinched it tight. “No. You’ll need her favor down the road. You can do this, if you are smart and if you are cunning.”
As she paused, I steeled myself for the last—and perhaps most frightening—question. “What do you want in return for the information? What payment do we owe you?”
“Oh my dear, the payment is already in motion. Trust that the debt will be paid and the balance will be righted. Sacrifice is the nature of duty. Now go. You have plans to make and battles to fight.” And without explaining what she meant, she vanished down the hall.
We stared at one another.
“I don’t like that last part. Sacrifice is the nature of duty? What’s she talking about?” I was still smarting over being chosen to sacrifice the Black Unicorn. I knew, logically, that I’d done what was necessary—for both of us—but the memory of his blood on my hands still hurt like hell.
“Come on, we’d better get home and start planning how to take on the Bonecrusher. It looks like we have no choice,” Morio said, pushing himself up from his chair. Delilah and I followed suit, and we trailed out into the day again, making our way through the forest back to Morio’s Subaru. None of us said a word on the way home.
Once home, I decided to take a shower. “Meet you guys in the kitchen afterward,” I said, weary and reeking of smoke from the store. “Find Trillian and Roz and tell them to get in here. Smoky, too. We need everybody’s help with this.” We were going on the offensive, and we had to act fast.
Delilah followed me up, needing a shower, too. “Let me come in with you. We can discuss what’s going on,”
I nodded. We stripped and padded over to my shower. After adjusting the temperature, we climbed in and I handed her one of my loofahs, and grabbed the sponge puff for myself. I took the spot under the showerhead since I knew she hated it spraying in her eyes. I was using my vanilla-scented body wash. Delilah chose the tangerine. We scrubbed away at the stench of smoke and soot.
I let out a long sigh as the hot water streamed over my body. The reality of what had happened was just starting to sink in. Henry was dead. My store was in ruins. And we were about to walk into the lamia’s den. A sudden bubble of tears welled up and I let out a sob.
Delilah dropped the loofahs and held me tight. I leaned on her shoulder, crying. “Shush,” she whispered. “You’ve had one hell of a past few days, haven’t you?”
“Not as bad as Henry.” I tried to sidestep the ache in my heart. But it was useless. The numbness had worn off and I slipped out of her arms and sat on the edge of the tub, letting the water beat down on me and splash over the side. “I can’t believe they killed him like that. He wasn’t part of this—he had nothing to do with the spirit seals and yet they came in and deliberately harmed him and left him for dead.”
“I know, I know,” she said, sitting beside me. She picked up the puff and began gently washing my back. “He was caught in the middle. A casualty of war. We knew this could happen, and it will be a lot worse if we let Shadow Wing win. A lot more Henrys will die.”
I let out a ragged sigh. For once, she was taking charge and letting me be the one to fall apart and I appreciated it more than she could ever imagine. “Everything is a mess. I don’t know what to think. The only one I trust anymore—besides our little group—is Grandmother Coyote. I don’t even trust Father now that he’s sleeping with Tanaquar.”
Delilah nodded, rinsing off my back. “Yeah, I’m having problems with that thought, too. I wonder why we’re going to end up aligning ourselves with the Triple Threat. Pretty, these are so intricate.” She fingered the tattoos on my back, then her own on her forehead. “I wonder if there’s any way out of this?. Is destiny always preplanned? Can we avoid our fate, or is it always fate that we meet it?”
Choking back the tears, I tried to wipe my eyes and only succeeded in getting soap in them. “Oww! Hand me that towel,” I said, motioning to the towel I had hung over the shower curtain rod. Delilah handed it to me and I wiped my eyes, then dropped it on the floor.
“You’re asking some pretty deep philosophical questions,” I said. “Why? I mean . . . we are what we are. We’re on the paths the gods set us on. Aren’t we?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Was it my destiny to become a Death Maiden? Will I have to bear the Autumn Lord’s child? Was it our destiny to fight the demons? And now you’re a priestess and have an unknown path opening in front of you. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the randomness of things. Henry’s death is just another one of them. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time. He was our friend—which made him a target. Was it his destiny to die today? Why did they choose him to start their vendetta with? I guess I just hate feeling like a pawn anymore. I want to have a choice in my life.”
I examined the sponge quietly, then rinsed it under the water. “Hand me the shampoo, please.” She did, and I stood up and lathered my hair with the rich scent of cinnamon and apples. “I think we’re beyond having a choice in the current direction we’re pointed in.”>Just then Chase returned, his face ashen. “Camille, I’m so sorry . . .”
“What? What is it?” The look on his face could only mean one thing, but I didn’t want to hear it.
“It’s about Henry. He’s dead. He had a heart attack while they were working on him and his body couldn’t handle the shock. Sharah said he went quickly.” He pursed his lips together, and Delilah moved into his embrace, tears running down her cheeks.
I stared at him, mutely. Morio slid his arm around my waist, but I pushed him away and walked over to the store-front. Henry had loved the Indigo Crescent, and he’d been so happy when we offered him the job. And now he was dead, because of us.
I felt a hand slip into mine and looked down. Iris was holding tight. Tears shone in her eyes.
“I couldn’t love him like he wanted me to,” she said, her voice hoarse. “I wish I could have, but I just . . .”
“It’s okay,” I said numbly, blinking back my own tears. Iris was feeling guilty—I could see it in her face. Henry had loved her, had wanted to be with her, but she couldn’t reciprocate his feelings. And now he was dead, murdered in our shop, and she was taking the blame on her own shoulders. “Iris, his death is no more your fault than it is mine. He was happy, he loved working with us.”
“I want them dead,” she said, a fierce light in her eyes. “I want to find the bastards who did this and take them down.”
“We will,” I whispered, more to myself than to her. “Trust me. We will.”
