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"Sharah's an excel ent medic, but she doesn't work with magic. Not like Camil e and myself." Morio's expression was grave. "I have the feeling Camil e's spel s may be a little more off-kilter than usual for the next few days. I'm hoping no permanent damage was done, but knowing for sure is a matter of wait and see." He scooted past the table and vanished up the stairs.
"I hope to hel he's wrong and that it's out of her system for good by tomorrow. But you can bet the news from our beloved father won't be." Menol y slowly descended to the floor, looking grim. "Shit like this Wolf Briar hurts the entire Supe Community, not just the intended targets. So, you ready? Let's go check out your Weres. I don't want to spend al night on a wild-goose chase. Nerissa and I get so little time together that we want to make the most of every minute."
I grabbed my coat and glanced at the stairs. "I think we should leave the terrible trio with Camil e. She needs al the support she can get. Vanzir--Roz?
One of you wil ing to come with?"
Vanzir leapt up. "I wil . Roz, you stay and see Wilbur home." He grabbed a heavy denim jacket and fol owed us out to my Jeep. I insisted on driving.
Menol y's Jag was actual y fairly uncomfortable for me since I was so tal , and while sports cars seemed like fun toys, it wasn't up to the actual work my Jeep could do.
Menol y rode shotgun; Vanzir climbed in the back. As we headed out into the storm, I wondered how many rain-soaked nights we'd crept into the dark, knowing we were headed into danger, chipping away at the edge of our luck. One of these days it wasn't going to hold.
We'd already lost so much, but there was so much, much more that could crumble beneath our feet. Every step was a question mark. Every move--a domino. And al we could do was make the best decision we could at the time and hope that the entire house of cards didn't come fluttering down around our shoulders.
CHAPTER 11
Menol y grumbled about having to take my Jeep, but I told her to stuff it. Vanzir laughed from the backseat. We headed toward Doug Smith's house--which was located up on Queen Anne Hil , one of the highest hil s in Seattle. The neighborhood was somewhat upscale, and I realized that I was surprised a werewolf would have a house there. So much for my own prejudices.
While I drove, peering through the streaming rain that was making my windshield wipers work overtime, Menol y told Vanzir what Trenyth had wanted.
Vanzir remained silent for a moment, then cleared his throat.
"I know you love your father, but that's a shitty thing to do. Ten to one, if he's banging the Queen like you say, she convinced him to play along with it." He leaned forward, peering between the front seats. "Camil e and I don't have much in common, but she's al right. And she's doing what she needs to be doing. Chances are your daddy just doesn't like the fact that she married Tril ian, and when the Queen offered him a good excuse to slam the situation, he ran with it."
What he said made sense. Hel , I'd been thinking the same thing myself for the past hour or so. "I guess we could ask Grandmother Coyote what to do."
Menol y let out a sharp hiss. "Camil e already owes Grandmother Coyote payment from last time she talked to her. Remember? The Hag told her that a sacrifice had already begun. Maybe that's what this is."
"I don't think so. I think it was Henry's death, to be honest, but I'd never mention my suspicions to Camil e. I wouldn't want her to feel responsible." I swerved to avoid a dog that darted out in the street and, since there were no oncoming cars for now, switched to brights until we got into the city proper.
"She already feels responsible. I don't think she'l ever get over feeling guilty for the old guy's death. But you two hens are overlooking the most important point. The important thing isn't what started this mess but how to deal with it. Are you going to stand with her, or are you going to let them run over her?" Vanzir slapped the back of the seat behind Menol y. "Either of you bother to let your father know how you real y feel about this?"
I darted a quick glance at Menol y, who looked rather nonplussed. And it took a great deal for Menol y to look nonplussed. "We sent messages back to him with Trenyth . . ."
"Messages? Like, Gee, Daddy, I don't like what you did to my sister? You two are such a piece of work. How can you be so deadly, so beautiful, and such wimps at the same time? Hah." Vanzir leaned back, crossing his arms, and shook his head. I glanced in the mirror, and he gave me that arched-eyebrow look that says gotcha.
"He's right," I said after a minute.
"Yes, but I wasn't going to let him know for a while. Al ow me a shred of dignity." Menol y let out a sigh--purely for effect.
Must be nice at times, I thought, to be able to avoid inhaling in the perfume department or the laundry soap aisle. Shaking my head, I brought my mind back to the subject at hand.
"So, are we going to fire up the Whispering Mirror and give Father hel ?" I asked softly.
Whistling softly, she nodded. "Looks that way, doesn't it?"
Vanzir laughed gently from the backseat.
As I parked along the street, I had a creepy feeling. Doug's house was a two-story monstrosity with smal windows dot-ting the surface. No lights burned from within, and the yard looked overgrown, even for this time of year. The only light came from the lamp on the front of the house, il uminating the porch steps. Or rather, the stone slab landing that passed for a porch.
As we climbed out of the car, a set of broken stone steps led up to the yard, which sloped up to the house. I glanced at the mailbox on the curb. It was partial y ajar, and when I yanked it open, mail spil ed out. Frowning, I gathered the letters back up, glanced at the name on them--Doug Smith, so yes, we were in the right place--and shoved the bundle back in the box.
Leaves in burnished shades of copper and brown and yel ow littered the overgrown weed patch that passed for a lawn. The walkway itself was cracked, foliage growing through the patches to further push apart the stone path. Ferns and low-growing evergreens ringed the house, nestled beneath the windows and wal s.
The house was old, weathered and wind-worn. The paint peeled from the sides, chips as big as my hand missing. The windows opened in, and screens had been nailed over them rather than properly set into place. The front door was located up yet another steep set of stone steps--I counted fourteen of them. An ironwork rail guarded both sides, and I was cautious not to touch it as we climbed the narrow stairs to the landing. The last thing I needed was a nasty burn.>Wilbur glanced at Camil e, frowned, then sniffed the air. "Wolf Briar. I can smel it on you. Jangled your senses, didn't it, girl?"
I shot a look at Menol y, wondering if she'd told him about it, but she shook her head. "You can smel the stuff? What else do you know about it?"
