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I nodded, even though Trillian and Menolly were both frantically shaking their heads. Motioning for them to stand aside, I began to work up the magic that I knew for cloaking spells—if I could just get him to pass for human, that would solve the problem of people on the streets. Then we’d just have to explain to the folks up in the bar that they’d seen a crazed lunatic wearing a costume who had a thing against elves.
“Sweetheart, I don’t think this is wise—” Trillian began to say, and Smoky, for once, chimed in on his side, but I brushed away their fears, too.
“My magic has grown stronger since I’ve been working with Morio. And there’s no other way to avoid incurring questions that we do not want.”
Disguise spells, or cloaking spells, weren’t all that hard—at least not for the average Moon Witch. Given my background, there was always the chance I’d muck it up, but I was ever the optimist, and besides, I was the only one here who could even try to cast a spell.
Without further ado, I focused on the daemon and summoned the Moon Mother’s power into my hands, willing it to flow into the creature’s aura. With a tingle raging through my fingers, like pins and needles pricking a thousand nerves, I began to rearrange the shape of his energy field, focusing on smoothing out the bumps and modifying the color.
Even if we could get him to pass for a Supe of unknown variety, chances were the Seattle Tattler wouldn’t be getting calls about some hellish creature rampaging through the streets. Maybe a weredog or something . . .
With one last shove to set the energy, I blinked and stood back. The daemon began to shift form. We all waited with pent breath, and then as the spell settled into his aura, I let out a gurgle and face-palmed my forehead. Not quite what I’d been going for.
The daemon stood there, on all four feet, tail wagging, staring up at me. “What did you do to me, woman? I didn’t think you’d actually be able to do anything. I heard you were a bumbling idiot! How long am I going to look like this? A poodle? Are you serious?”
He took a threatening step toward me and nipped at my ankles, but Smoky leaned over and scooped up the daemon.
“Do not threaten my wife, even if it is with rabies.”
“I don’t have rabies, you idiot! I’m not actually a dog!”
“Um, I hate to differ with you,” Menolly said, “but you are for now. And it could last ten minutes or it could last ten days, knowing my sister. I advise you get back to the Demon Underground before the dogcatcher sees you.”
The string of obscenities that issued forth made even my ears hurt. Apparently, my mind hadn’t been as focused as I’d thought, because he was nowhere human or Were looking. In fact, he was a very ornate white poodle, clipped in the typical powder-puff stereotype. With two glaring exceptions: both his eyes and his toenails were brilliant red.
“You look like some sort of wacked-out hellhound,” Trillian said. “I’m sorry, dude. My wife tends to fritz out on her magic a lot, but it does work, contrary to what Trytian seems to have told you.”
“Put me down, you lunatic, and let me out of here now!” The daemon dog snapped again, and Smoky promptly curled his thumb and index finger together and gave him a thunk on the muzzle. Not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to humiliate.
“Mind your manners.” He rolled his eyes and headed toward the door. “I’m going to go release this one outside so he can go home. Camille, my love, think twice next time. We could have simply given him a cloak to wear.”
I snorted. “Whatever. It’s not going to hurt him. But hurry it up because Chase needs us in Tangleroot Park.”
As Smoky carried the struggling mutt up the stairs, I turned to Menolly. “What are you going to tell your patrons up there? They have to have some plausible explanation.”
She frowned. “Fire troll?”
“There’s no such thing.”
“Most of them won’t know that. Tonight it’s mainly a bunch of Earthside Supes and Faerie Maids up there. I could tell them that dragons turn into pixies and they might believe me.”
I chewed on the inside of my lip. “You’re probably right. Tell them we subdued him. But we’re going to have to tell Queen Asteria the truth. That poor elf has a family somewhere and you can bet, ten to one, they’re back in Otherworld. I don’t think he’s going to willingly oblige us by being homeless, without next of kin.”
Menolly chewed on her lip. “Yeah, I know. Let’s go. I’ll have Derrick bring the body down here until we can identify him. You guys go on ahead. Call if you need me.”
As we threaded our way out of the bar, it occurred to me that with our luck, Santa would come riding into town with a sawed-off shotgun. Considering that I’d met the Holly King when I was a young girl, it wouldn’t surprise me a bit. He was a terrifying figure and it never failed to awe me just whom the FBHs would invite down their chimneys without asking for references.
Leaving Menolly to tackle the damage control at the bar, we headed over to Tangleroot Park. The snow was falling lightly, and the soft swish of my windshield wipers kept up a lively rhythm. Trillian was riding shotgun, Smoky sprawled in the back.
I glanced at Smoky through the rearview mirror, wondering whether it was a good time to discuss what the daemon had told us, but decided to wait. We already knew Hyto had it in for us. Mentioning it would only set Smoky off, and I really didn’t want a pissed-off dragon in the backseat. Even one whom I loved.
As the asphalt sped by, I thought about the past year. So much had happened. When my sisters and I were first sent over from Otherworld, we didn’t have a clue as to what waited in store for us. We learned the hard way, all too fast.
I’m Camille D’Artigo—that’s Dee-Ar-tee-go. At home I’m known as Camille Sepharial te Maria, because in Otherworld, Fae take their mother’s first name as a surname. When we came Earthside, we just started using our mother’s last name.
Either way you slice it, I’m half-human, half-Fae, and all trouble, at least according to my husbands and my sisters. I’m married to a dragon, a youkai-kitsune, and one of the dark, Charming Fae. Simultaneously. That doesn’t go over well with some of the Earthside community who call me a slut and a whore, but I don’t give a fuck what they think. My mores are my own, and if loving three men is a crime, I’ll happily play criminal.
By heart, soul, and trade, I’m a witch, recently promoted to priestess. The Moon Mother rode me on one hell of a rough trial, but I walked through the shadow and—like Ishtar—came out of the Underworld triumphant. In the wake of destruction, a new path opened, upon which I am preparing to embark.
