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She placed her hand on Camille’s shoulder, and Camille gently took it and kissed it. The two had formed a bond, and Hanna had been instrumental in helping Camille escape before Hyto killed her. Together, they’d made their way down a frozen mountain high in the Northlands, hiding from the psychotic dragon who was bent on destroying his son and my sister.
Hanna kissed her gently on the top of her head, then motioned to the food. “Eat. You cannot fight these monsters if you are undernourished. Then, you must sleep. You two are exhausted, and also, Miss Menolly, dawn is near and you should be in your lair.” With a scolding cluck, she pushed the bowls of salad and fruit, and a plate of cookies toward us.
Camille and I ate, and my appetite flared. We wolfed down our food, once we got started. But halfway into the meal, I felt myself fading. Camille wearily put down the rest of her cookie.
I said it for both of us. “If we don’t get to bed, we’re going to keel over from exhaustion.”
She grunted. “I’m so tired I can’t even nod my head. It’s almost five in the morning and we’ve been to hell and back.”
Menolly kissed us both lightly on the forehead. “I will see you when I wake tonight.” She vanished down the stairs, shutting the heavy bookcase door behind her.
With Morio and Shade’s help, we made our way upstairs. Camille and Morio hived off to their rooms, and it seemed strange to see her only with the youkai. Her quartet was incomplete, and she looked fragile and shaken.
Shade and I finally reached the third floor.
“I didn’t think I was going to make it up that last set of steps. I can’t believe I ache so much.” Wearily, I dragged myself over to the bed and face-planted on it.
“How about I rub your back?” Shade tugged on my pajama top.
I let out a muffled grunt. “I’m too tired for sex.”
“I said rub your back, not fuck your pussy.” He laughed, low, and leaned down to land a kiss on my neck. “I love having sex with you, but woman if you think I’m going to push for a roll right now, when I know what you’ve been through, then you don’t think very highly of me.”
And so, he turned on soft music, and dimmed the lights, saying nothing, letting me decompress. As exhausted as I was, I couldn’t shut off the images in my brain, or the memories of facing Asteria. She’d been so beautiful and radiant, so insanely strong and dignified. It had been both an honor and a great heartbreak to be the one assigned to escort her through the veil. And then, there was the worry over Father. I didn’t want to let myself even go there, but I could feel the fear hanging like the proverbial sword over my head.
I’d thought myself cried out, but once again, tears trickled down my face; they were slow, and I didn’t bother wiping them away. I just let them absorb into the pillowcase, unwilling to deny them.
Shade tugged me out of my PJs and draped the sheet over my torso. He began with my feet, and I let out a little sigh as he worked the tension from my ankles, my toes, and up my calves. When he came to my back I was half asleep, but I could still feel his knuckles digging deep into the knots that had settled into my muscles.
And then he was rubbing my shoulders, stroking my skin, and I became aware that he was soothing my aura somehow, calming the stressed parts, feeding energy into the places where I was drained dry. I started to ask him a question, but found my tongue refusing to work, and I suddenly realized that I was in trance. Had he hypnotized me? Had he cast some sort of dragon or Stradolan magic on me? Whatever the case, I decided to give in and just go with it.
Another moment and I felt my breathing deepen, and then the blissful arms of Morpheus dragged me down and took me under in a wave so murky and frothing that there was no denial, no retreat. Only the blessed oblivion of darkness and sleep.
• • •
When I opened my eyes, it was close to noon. I wearily pushed myself to a sitting position. Shade was nowhere to be seen, and pale gray rain splattered in drops against the window. I slipped out from under the covers and shivered. The room was chilly, and I pulled a robe over my PJs and padded over to look outside. The sky shimmered, silver interspersed with thick black clouds. But this storm, it was natural, and I could feel the difference. It didn’t frighten me, this Seattle gloom. I pushed the window up to let the scent of rain-soaked cedar seep through the room as I quickly dressed. Olive-colored cargo pants, a V-neck sweater in mustard, and a wide brown leather belt, and a matching pair of brown leather boots finished the outfit. By the time I brushed my hair and teeth, I was starting to feel like I might make it through the afternoon in one piece, without having another meltdown.
As I headed down the stairs, Camille came out of her room. She was wearing a purple satin low-cut vintage dress and over it, a black waist cincher. A pair of black chunky-heeled granny boots paired nicely with the outfit, but one glance at her and I knew we’d both changed. There was a haunted look in her eyes that mirrored the way I felt.
We headed downstairs, saying little. Hanna met us at the foot of the stairs. “Sharah, she has had her baby. She’s asking that you come to the station as soon as possible. She says it’s very important. And Mr. Chase, he’s very upset. He’s waiting for you in the living room.”
Chase was here instead of by Sharah’s side? Fuck. What had happened now? Before we even thought of food, Camille and I turned toward the living room. There, we saw Chase pacing.
“What’s going on, dude? How are Sharah and the baby?” I slipped over to his side and gave him a quick hug, but it was obvious how tense he was—his back was stiff and he looked pissed out of his mind.
“I need your help! I can’t stop them, can I? They said I have no choice—and that she has no choice. Like fucking hell!” He was babbling.
Camille held up her hand. “Slow down and tell us what happened. Start at the beginning, and first things first: are Sharah and the baby all right?”
He stood there, clenching and unclenching his fists. “Sharah is all right—it was a hard labor, but she’s okay. And our daughter is fine.” He paused, and the look that crossed his face was priceless. But the next minute, it was replaced by a black cloud. “But that fucking Trenyth—I’d like to wring his neck.”
“What the hell happened?” And then, I knew—or at least I suspected. “She’s . . . they want her to return to Elqaneve, don’t they?”
“Like hell she’s going to. After what went down there yesterday?” He seemed to lose steam and dropped onto the sofa, hands on his knees as he stared ahead with a bleak look. “Trenyth came to the hospital this morning. He said she must return. She’s the only living heir and she has to take the throne.”
“Sharah is going to become Queen of Kelvashan? What about the baby? And you?” I had thought this might happen.
“They won’t let me come with her. And . . . they won’t let her bring the baby. They said that she’ll have to leave her with me, here. Because the Elfin Queen cannot have a half-breed child at the Court.” His voice was thick with rage and I thought he was about to burst a blood vessel. “Even though she’s a newborn, they’re intent on separating our family.”
