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I frowned. “That doesn’t seem…”
“Fair? Not all of life is just, or fair, nor understandable. The Master forbids it; therefore we obey. There is no discussion on the issue.”
“And Arial cannot take human form out of Haseofon?” I already knew the answer but asked anyway.
Greta shook her head. “I’m sorry, but no. Now, go back to your body, my dear, and attend to your duties.”
She vanished and I found myself racing back through the streets, back to where I’d started from. As the city skyline began to lighten, I saw a veiled shadow ahead and instinctively dove for it. As I entered the smoke, I fell into my body and sat up with a start, looking around.
Shade was asleep beside me, but he stirred. As I propped myself up against the pillows and headboard, I thought about what I’d just done. Wylie was dead. Verdict: heart attack. But his soul was gone, forever. I’d sent him to the final death, and there would be no return.
A fierce sense of pride sprang up. I’d done my duty without flinching. And Greta had been proud of me. She’d also given me valuable information. Now I knew for sure Van and Jaycee were behind this. The bald man wasn’t Telazhar, that I could tell from watching the sorcerer destroy the village. But he was in possession of a spirit seal, which made him terribly dangerous.
As I climbed out of bed and slipped into a pair of sweatpants and a tank, Shade woke. He blinked, sitting up.
“Is everything okay?”
“No. We need to wake the others. I have information and we need to act on it as soon as possible.” I motioned to the door. “I’m heading downstairs. Get dressed and follow. If you could wake Camille and her men, I’ll see if Menolly’s still up. And someone needs to head out to the studio. This is an all-hands-on-deck meeting.”
Shade slid out from beneath the covers and quietly began to dress as I left the room. I scrambled down the stairs, glancing out the window. Dawn would break in a while, but Menolly would still be up for a couple hours. She wasn’t in the living room or parlor—which meant Nerissa had gone back to her condo for the night instead of staying over—so I opened the bookcase in the kitchen and raced down the stairs to Menolly’s lair.
“Menolly? Are you down here?”
“What’s up, Kitten? Is everything okay?” Menolly was sitting on her bed, in a silk bathrobe, reading a book. I glanced at the title. A History of Vampire Mythology. She closed it, dog-earing one of the corners as I peeked around the partition that separated her sleeping area from the sitting area.
“Yes. No. Just come upstairs, would you? I’ve got some important information on the bombing.”
She set the book on her nightstand and crossed the room to my side, looping her arm through my elbow. “Did they strike again?”
“No, not yet. But with what I know, my guess is they’ll continue on until we catch them. They’re out for vengeance.”
We headed up the stairs and back into the kitchen. Shade was standing there. We’d given up hiding the entrance to Menolly’s lair from family members—everybody had guessed it by now. But we’d insisted on secrecy and had installed a heavy-duty lock on the door, which Smoky had replaced with a reinforced steel one. Now, when Menolly slept, only Camille, I, and Iris could unlock the gate to her world.>“You’ve done this so many times…does it get easier?” I glanced over at Wylie, who didn’t seem to have a clue that within a few minutes, he’d be dead and his soul cast into oblivion to be cleansed and returned to the primal pool. Part of me wanted to warn him, to give him a chance to right whatever wrongs he’d done, but that wasn’t an option.
“No. But each time, I understand my place in the world a little bit more. And so, in time, will you. Do you remember the rites I taught you?” She waited patiently, not pushing me.
I nodded, slowly. I remembered them, but it hadn’t fully registered that I’d actually have to use them. Now, there was no avoiding the reality: I was a Death Maiden and while I was still training, my days of standing by as an observer were over. I couldn’t very well wear the title without earning it.
“Yeah, I do. You said I have to take his soul through mine?” I’d done this accidentally a couple of times, but never deliberately.
She nodded. “Grandmother Coyote decreed that you need to do this.”
When the Hags of Fate made a suggestion, it was an order. Even if you were a god. Or a Death Maiden. I steadied myself, running through the steps, until I was sure I remembered their order. As I stared at Wylie, I tried to see him as something other than a friendly acquaintance. If he truly did have secrets and had upset the balance, maybe there was something I didn’t know that would make it easier. But the only way I’d find out would be to go through with the rite.
I looked over at Greta, who was watching me carefully. “This is a test, isn’t it?”
She shook her head. “No. If I were to test you, I’d make it a friend—someone dear to your heart. To see if you could go through with it.”
“Have you ever had to…collect the soul of a friend?” Our eyes met and I held her fast. Wanted to see her reaction.
She gazed steadily at me, and then slowly blinked. “Yes.” Her voice was a whisper on the wind, the rattle of dried corn husks. “My own mother.”
I lowered my head. I couldn’t imagine doing that. “I’m sorry. I…that would be hard to bear.”
“It was difficult. I learned too much about her. Things I didn’t want to know. But she went on to the afterlife, and I was able to let go after a while. It helped that she was beloved by many, and that her secrets weren’t the kind to make me sorry she’d birthed me.”
Greta put her hand on my arm. “You will not be sorry you do this. And truly, you have no choice. You are the Master’s servant. He has appointed this task to you—and Grandmother Coyote asked for you to do it.”
I straightened my shoulders. It was time to man up.
