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Lindsey smiled and gratefully sank into the chair. “Everything at home is fine. Little Feddrika is growing like a weed. She’s almost two months old now and is healthy and happy.”
“Little Feddrika?” I grinned at her, making sure my fangs were reined in. I didn’t like intimidating friends.
“Yes.” Lindsey ducked her head, a silly grin on her face. “I sincerely hope that Feddrah-Dahns doesn’t mind, but we kind of named our daughter after him since he provided the charm that helped me get pregnant.”
The fact that she’d named her daughter after a unicorn prince made me laugh. It just seemed so par for the course in our life. I clapped her lightly on the shoulder. “I don’t think he’d mind. Do you, Camille?”
Camille had the same grin on her face. “No, Feddrah-Dahns would be pleased, and we’ll tell him next time we see him. But what brings you here on such a rainy night? I get the impression this isn’t a social call.”
I had the same feeling, and a quiet sense of dread began to slip over me.
Lindsey hung her head. I could hear her pulse racing, and the scent of fear rose off her like a wisp of smoke. The smell of fear was a turn-on to a vampire, and it spurred on the hunger. But this time, it did nothing for me. Lindsey wasn’t afraid of us. No, there was something else provoking her fight-or-flight response.
I decided blunt was better than tact in this case. “What’s going on, Lindsey? I can smell your worry across the room.”
She leaned back, resting against the headrest on the rocking chair. “I’m not sure, but there’s something wrong. I can tell you that. I’m not sure how to describe it…”
“Start from the beginning.” Smoky pushed back his chair. “That’s usually the easiest.”
I shook my head. The dragon could sometimes be a lunkhead, but he meant well. “Smoky’s right, Lindsey. Just tell us the best you can.”
Trillian and Hanna began to clear the table. Maggie let out a wail from Iris’s room and Bruce went in to tend to her. He had a way with the gargoyle that none of us had expected and had taken over helping care for her.
“As I said, I had my baby a couple of months ago. I took about eight weeks off from leading the coven—three before having Feddrika, and five after—but they look to me for guidance and I decided it was time to take up the reins again. So…it was about three weeks ago that I started attending meetings again.”
She paused to accept a cup of tea from Trillian, and a peanut butter cookie as he brought the tray to the table. “Thank you. I’ve been craving sugar lately and I don’t know why. I never ate much of it before.”
“Hormones?” Iris asked from the sink, where she was scraping plates and filling the dishwasher.
“No, I don’t think so. Lack of energy. Which is a part of my story.” Lindsey frowned as she bit into the cookie. “Okay, here’s the best way I can describe matters. I came back to the coven, feeling okay. I mean, postpartum is hard, and yes, I’m tired from the baby and pregnancy and feedings, but the minute I took up leadership again, my energy began to vanish and I know it’s not related to hormones, though everybody keeps saying it has to be. I checked with my naturopath and she says my hormones are right where they should be for this point. Also, I began to notice the same thing about my coven-mates.”
Good. Lindsey had done all the practical things, which she should have. Now she was coming to us. Trouble was, we sure didn’t have all the answers.
“Do you have any thoughts on what’s happening?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Even the strongest members of our coven, those who were always the most energetic, are hard pressed to muster up enough energy to charge the candles for ritual. We’ve been meeting the past three weeks as usual, but there’s no…oomph there. And what’s worse is that no one in the group besides me seems to give a damn. Maybe they’re all too tired to care.”
“I suppose I could try scrying for an answer.” Camille was fairly good when it came to divination.
Lindsey let out a soft shrug. “I hope you have more luck than me. I did a reading, but my cards are wonky and won’t talk to me the way they usually do. And my cards always talk to me. I’m worried and I wasn’t sure where to go for advice. So I thought I’d come here and ask you.”
This was more Camille’s territory. I motioned to her. “Any ideas?”
Camille played with her cookie, breaking it in half and then dropping the pieces on the saucer. She looked perplexed. “Do you know if this started in your absence, or around the time when you came back?”
Lindsey started to shake her head, but then stopped. “We met in the afternoon on that first Saturday I returned, and everybody seemed fine. We headed out on a field trip to a psychic fair being held in north Seattle. While we were there, we just hung out, got some readings done, bought crystals and incense and other doodads like that. You know, a peaceful, low-key afternoon. Then we broke for dinner and met up again that night for our usual meeting. And everybody…seemed different. Zonked out.”
“So something happened between the fair and the meeting.” Delilah grabbed a second cookie, and then a third. Shade reached over and gently took the third cookie out of her hand and bit into it. She growled at him, but then laughed. “Get your own damned cookie, sweetheart.”
He snorted. “Share and share alike, darling.”
Camille pulled a steno pad to her and began to jot down notes. “Maybe something didn’t happen between the fair and meeting, but at the fair.” She glanced over at Lindsey. “Where was this fair held? Who sponsored it? And do you remember anything odd at all about the day?”
Lindsey leaned back in the rocking chair as Bruce carried Maggie in.
“Our girl wants her dinner.” He hefted her on his side—she was nearly a third as big as he was—and headed over to the playpen. But Lindsey stopped him.
“Can I hold her? She’s so cute and such a little love.”
