Archives

The next moment, I let out a long sigh when I finally saw the file with the name “Cleandra” on the label. I fished it out from the stack of folders it was sitting in, managing to knock over another pile in the process. Ignoring the mess for now, I hurried out the door. I jogged back to Herne’s office, pausing by the door to collect myself. Then, and only then, did I turn the knob and let myself in.

“Welcome back,” Herne said, smiling pleasantly from behind the desk. But his gaze fastened on me and I knew that—inside—he was cringing. He knew exactly what kind of a mood I was in. I said nothing as I held up the file. “You found it, thank you,” he said. “Let’s get back to business then.”

I slid into the chair next to his desk. Our client—a very wealthy dwarf named Keri Cleandra—gave me a long look, then smiled. I had the feeling she knew that I was about to smack Herne, because she gave me a secret smile that women have when it comes to dealing with men. Dwarf or Fae, human or god, we all had those times when the men in our lives were this close to sleeping on the sofa.

“Yes, I found it,” I said, gritting my teeth. But I was a professional, so I shook off my mood for the moment and turned to Herne. “So, what’s our next step?”

“The next step,” Herne said, “would be to visit Keri’s property. We need to figure out how the thief is getting into her house.”

“I don’t understand why my alarm system isn’t working,” Keri said. “I had it checked out.”

Herne nodded. “Given you have an alarm system and a guard dog, and neither one reacted to the break-in, yet you keep losing property is pushing me to think you might have a poltergeist or something of the sort. But we can’t make that determination until we’ve actually examined the house.” He held out his hand for the file.

I slapped it into his hand, harder than necessary. As I did so, I noticed the blueberry stain on the cover from my blueberry jam and peanut butter sandwich. I tried to ignore it, but Herne caught sight of the mess and gave me a long, meaningful look. I glared back at him and he hastily turned back to the file, opening it and placing it on his desk.

“When would be good for you, Keri? We can come out either tomorrow or Wednesday morning.” Herne pulled out his tablet and brought up his schedule.

Keri, who was around four-two—she was tall for a dwarf—and golden blond, smiled. Like almost all dwarves, she was sturdy, and muscled, but she was also stunning. She ran a mechanic’s garage, specializing in foreign engines. Even though she had a thorough grasp of domestic models, she preferred working on Porsches and Jags.

“Tomorrow morning would be best. Around ten?”

Herne nodded and tapped away with his stylus. A moment later, the appointment came through to my phone and tablet as well. “Ember and Yutani will look around and ascertain what we need to do next.” He stood, and I took my cue from him, also standing.

Keri Cleandra slid out of the chair and gave us a formal nod, then turned. “Thank you,” she said over her shoulder. “I’ll see you then.”

As soon as Herne closed the door behind her, he turned back to me. “What the hell? The file folder is covered in peanut butter and jam?”

“You’re lucky I even found it! And it’s not covered in jam, so chill out. I’ll have Angel make up a new folder. But Herne, if you ever dump a mess like that on my desk again without asking, I’m going to kick your ass. And I know Yutani and Talia feel the same way. What the hell were you thinking, having Rafé stack all those files on my desk? I have an office full of papers that have to be sorted out now. You think I can go through them easier when they’re one big jumble?”

Herne and I didn’t fight often, but the past few days had been one nightmare after another and we were all on edge.

Herne paused, closing his eyes for a moment. He smiled, looking for all the world like a cute but lovable naughty little boy. “Okay, I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

“No, it’s not that simple. You can’t just mutter ‘I’m sorry’ and expect it all to be okay. First, if we had lost the file, we have all the information in the computer and Angel could just print it out for us again. And second, panic will do you no good. We can find the mistakes easier if we go through the files one by one. You don’t need to dump everything on our desks at once. That’s not helping matters any.” I dropped into the chair next to his desk, leaning back as I stretched my legs out in front of me.

We were facing a war with the dragons, the dead were flooding the graveyards, and worst of all, the United Coalition was considering letting the dragons have a seat in government. And on top of all of that, we had discovered a big mistake in the firm. Or rather, Charlie, our vampire accountant-in-training, had. That mistake meant that the Wild Hunt had overcharged at least eighty clients over the past few years.

Herne would have no trouble paying them back. The real problem came in ascertaining just how much each client was owed, and convincing them not to sue us for fraud. While the Wild Hunt never meant to overcharge clients, a court might not see it that way, given how big of a mistake it ended up being and how many people had been affected.

All of that meant that we had to go through every single file and review the hours listed for each client, run the figures through our new software, and note the difference between what our records showed they had paid, and what they should have actually paid. This would also impact taxes for that year, so we were hip-deep in overtime until we took care of the issue. Yeah, it had been an extremely rocky past few weeks, and we were all tired.

I knew that this weighed on Herne’s shoulders more than it did on mine—he was responsible for the entire agency and I was just an employee, but his frantic desire to be done with it and make sure everyone was paid back had resulted in chaos.

“So…talk to me,” I said.

He jerked his head toward the daybed in his office. Herne kept his office organized and clean. The desk and other furniture was heavy walnut, old gleaming wood. The walls of the office were painted a robin’s-egg blue, and the ceiling was white. Over Herne’s desk sat a rack of antlers, massive and heavy, mounted on the wall. Two pair of wingback chairs offered plenty of seating, and a locked case displayed a number of various weapons. The daybed was for when Herne needed to spend the night in the office.

In the year and a half that I had worked for the Wild Hunt Agency, I had never once seen his office untidy. Even now, in the midst of a crisis, it was calm, with plenty of plants to offer fresh oxygen and serenity. Mine had been tidy, too, until this morning.

I followed Herne to the daybed. He curled up against one end and held out his arm. I snuggled up into the niche he offered, resting my head on his shoulder. My long raven hair mixed with the sprawling strands of wheat-colored hair that fell below his shoulders.

“You’re right,” he said after a moment. “I’m sorry. We’re all on edge, I know that. I thought that by dividing the files, we’d be able to get through them faster.”

“Well, it would be faster except that the stacks of files tipped over and they’re now all over the floor of my office. We should’ve just started out taking four or five at a time and worked our way through that way.” I frowned, my anger easing as we talked. I tried to suppress a smile. One thing I had learned during my time at the Wild Hunt: the men who worked here had very little sense of organization. Although Herne’s decisions were being influenced by his focus on the dragon menace. That was a hard reality to avoid or push out of mind.

“Speaking of dragons,” I said.

“Were we speaking of dragons?” Herne asked.

I shrugged. “Well, I was thinking about them. Even though the dead are still on the move, and people are pissed over the curfew, have you noticed how quiet it’s been lately? Regarding the dragons, that is? Gyell is out there, targeting us, but he hasn’t done a single thing to retaliate. When I think of the look on his face the last time I saw him…” I shuddered. “He’d kill us all if he had the chance.”

“I think that’s what’s worrying me most. We haven’t had any reports about the dragons in days. So, what are they doing? We know they’re not just going to give up and go away. Maybe you should contact Ashera to see if she knows anything?”

“I can do that,” I said. “Have you heard from Cernunnos or Morgana regarding Echidna?”

Herne shook his head. “Ever since they transferred her to Annwn, there’s been radio silence. And I don’t feel like I have the right to ask at this point. Morgana and Cernunnos will tell us what they want us to know when the time is right.”

Herne’s parents—Cernunnos, the Lord of the Forest, and Morgana, the goddess of the Sea—had created the Wild Hunt Agency, to deal with the twin courts of Fae.

When we had discovered that Echidna, the mother of all dragons, was still alive, they had swept her away before Typhon discovered she was still alive. Echidna was our one hope in defeating the Father of Dragons, and she was sequestered away in Annwn, discussing strategies with the gods.

I wasn’t sure what to say. Part of me wanted to urge him to contact them. After all, we were in this war, too. But reality was: the less we knew, the better. We were all careful, but should one of us be captured, what we didn’t know, we couldn’t tell.

The phone rang, interrupting us. It was Herne’s landline, so it was probably Angel on the intercom. I shifted so that he could stand up, and he hurried over to his desk to answer. He listened for a moment, then said, “Meet us in the break room.”

He motioned for me to join him and, gathering my tablet and files, I followed him down the hallway. Viktor was already there, along with Angel. Talia and Yutani were almost to the break room when we got there. Rafé wasn’t in yet—he often came in during the evenings, along with Charlie.

When we had gathered, Angel cleared her throat. “I just got a call from Rhiannon. You know, from the Foam Born Encampment?”

We nodded. Rhiannon was the matriarch of the Foam Born Encampment, a Pod of water-horse shifters who lived over on Whidbey Island.

“She’s coming in for an appointment this afternoon. She says it’s urgent and can’t wait.”

A shiver raced down my spine. Shortly after Angel—my best friend—and I started working for the Wild Hunt, we had investigated a case over on Whidbey Island for the water-horse shifters. We thought we had managed to close it, but as time went on, we found out that it wasn’t quite as closed as we had hoped.

We had captured one of the Ante-Fae—one of the ancient Fae. He had been killing people and siphoning off both their life force and their blood. When we delivered him to Cernunnos, Herne’s father had thrown him deep into a dungeon, planning to leave him there for the rest of his life. But then, one of the guards set to watch over him had vanished, and Straff vanished along with her. We had no idea where he was, but we suspected that he was on the prowl again because reports of similar murders had cropped up recently.

“Crap, you know what that means,” I said.

“Don’t assume,” Talia said. “We don’t know yet—”

“Well, I’m not sure,” Angel said. “She did mention that two teens from the Pod have gone missing. One was a young woman named Lecada, and Lecada has a twin. They’re bonded. You know how human twins bond? Well, apparently among the hippocampi, twin-bonds are even stronger and if one of a set of identical twins dies, then the other will feel it.”

“Oh no,” I said, closing my eyes. “Tell me she didn’t feel the pain—because if Straff is involved—”

“Oh, there was pain,” Angel said, a grim look on her face. “But not the way you might be thinking. Aja said her connection to Lecada was abruptly severed. It wasn’t the same as if her sister had been killed or even hurt, but she described it as if she and Lecada had never been connected. It traumatized Aja, because it was like cutting off something in one of her senses.”

Talia paled. “That’s odd. Perhaps the girl was taken through a portal?”

“That’s possible, but Rhiannon didn’t say anything about that.” Angel consulted her notes. “The other girl vanished a month or so ago—her name was Twinkle. She vanished without a trace.”

“We need to talk to the twin, obviously, but I don’t want to scare her. What do the parents have to say? Were the girls prone to running away?” Herne asked.

Angel shrugged. “You’ll have to ask her when she gets here.”

“So, she’s not coming because of Straff?” Talia asked.

“I don’t think so, but again, we’ll have to ask her when she gets here.” Angel glanced at her notes. “She’ll be here in an hour or so.”

“One thing I don’t understand is why Straff returned to Whidbey Island. Surely he has to know that we’ll be hunting him down again?” Yutani was the son of the Great Coyote, and he was a brilliant man, if a tad volatile. He was also our IT guy, and had managed to find a way onto the Dark Web without being traced, which opened up a well of knowledge for us.

“You say that as though we’re dealing with someone sane,” Viktor said. The half-ogre shook his head. “Straff is about as far from sane as I am from being a pygmy.”

I repressed a snicker. “True that,” I said. “But Yutani raises a good point. If Straff’s on the island again, he has to know that we’ll be seeking him out. He can’t think that Cernunnos hasn’t found out that he escaped, can he?”

It seemed ludicrous to think that Straff would be that oblivious, unless he was listening to the guard who had sprung him out of the dungeon. If she was still alive. There was a distinct possibility he had killed her. A sudden thought hit me, one that made my stomach lurch.

“Do we have to contact Blackthorn again?”

“Oh, yes. We’ll need to consult the King of Thorns again,” Herne said. “I don’t relish the thought, either.”

The last time we had met, Blackthorn had shown too much of an interest in me, and I hadn’t forgotten the sleazy, creepy way he had tried to insinuate himself between Herne and me. Blackthorn, the King of Thorns, was Straff’s father, and to me, he had been more frightening than Straff himself.

Angel’s cell phone rang and she glanced at it. “I set the reception phone to forward to my phone.” She moved away from the table to answer, while the rest of us continued to discuss Straff. But less than a minute later, Angel hurried over and turned on the TV.

“Guys, that was Maria Serenades, the deputy mayor. She has what she calls some disturbing news and she wants to talk to us today. She’ll be here around three o’clock. She told me to turn on the television and watch the breaking news.”

We quieted down as the newscaster came on. Marcy Winters—a ditzy bleached blonde for whom the song “Dirty Laundry” might have been written—faced the camera with a blisteringly cheerful smile.

“Today, history was made when Frassáire—the spokesman for the Dakkar Mountain Dragon Clan—bought the entire town of Remington, a small mining town last occupied in the early 1920s by prospectors. Located near Monroe, the town has sat empty since 1941, when the last residents moved away, and has been up for sale the past ten years. Frassáire told our reporters that the Dakkar Mountain Dragon Clan plans to renovate it into a tourist village, with rides and vendors, where families can come to meet and interact with the Dragonkin. They plan to open by early April.”

I stared at the screen. “What the everloving fuck?”

Herne swore, hitting the table with his fist. “I talked to the governor a few weeks ago. I warned him this was going to happen.”

At first, we had been worried that the dragons were going to take over by force, but as the weeks wore on and the dragons made themselves known but backed down in actual attacks, we began to suspect a more devious plot. Though the dead were walking—and they would as long as Typhon was around—we began to realize he was aiming to gain trust. He was a treacherous wyrm, and we had begun to suspect that Typhon and his dragons were going to try to insinuate themselves into society and then demand a seat on the United Coalition, much like the Fomorians had. Now, it looked like we were right.

“What are we going to do?” I asked. “Can’t we stop them from buying up land?”

“No, we can’t,” Herne said. “When I talked to the governor he assured me that his office would keep an eye on the dragons. And when I told him that the gods were looking for a way to drive Typhon out of this realm, he assured me that the state has our back. That the country has our back. The dragons are here on a worldwide basis, and pretty soon the countries will have to come together to decide what to do about this, and that’s just going to end up in one big clusterfuck. Pardon my language, but…we all know it. That’s one reason the gods have taken the reins of this battle.”

I stared at the table. We knew for a fact that Typhon’s end goal was to enslave humanity as both servants and food, but we didn’t dare let that information loose to the general public or panic would ensue. Unfortunately, dragons were both crafty and charming, and they were quite happy to use whatever means possible to bring about their desired results.

“Basically, they’re creating an amusement park and making themselves into a spectacle. On the surface, it seems so undignified,” Yutani said. “But they’ll be able to disarm people. Can you imagine the children begging to ‘go see the dragons’? We’re talking Jurassic Park all over again, except this isn’t fiction, and we aren’t the ones setting up the disaster.”

“Yes, we are,” I said. “We aren’t stopping them from building it.”

“What can we do to stop them?” Angel said. “It’s not like the old days when you could scream ‘illegal immigrant’ about somebody coming over the border and slam the door shut on them. The world is more interconnected, and that’s a good thing. Generally. But it also makes it easier for a group like the dragons to wedge themselves in.”

Herne shook his head. “My guess is that there are laws in place about this, but they’re being overlooked because dragons have money. You can bet that every dragon on this planet has amassed a fortune, and the moment someone who’s both greedy and powerful gets wind of that, the kickbacks are going to be enormous—” he paused as my phone rang.

I glanced at the caller ID and groaned. “It’s Saílle.”

The Queen of the Dark Fae seldom contacted me unless she wanted something, or something so serious had happened that she had to bring me in on it. I was half–Light Fae, half–Dark Fae, and on my way to becoming a goddess.

When I first arrived at the agency, both the Queens of Light and Dark had ignored me. In fact, I had been pariah, a stain on their heritages. Half-breeds, whether the other half was human, Fae, or other Crypto, were excommunicated. But the moment they found out I was engaged to Herne and that I would take my place as one of the Fae goddesses, both Névé and Saílle had done their best to woo me over. I walked a delicate tightrope between the two and felt like I was one step away from tumbling to the rocks below, because with those two, there was no safety net involved.

“Hello?” I had neither the energy nor desire to play their games today.

“Ember, we need to talk to you and your agency about this dragon news. Those beasts cannot be allowed to have a foothold in the land. They’ll—”

Before she could finish, I cut her off. “Queen Saílle, we just heard about it and we’re discussing what to do now. Trust me, we aren’t happy about it either. If you have any ideas beyond taking a nuclear bomb to them, please let us know.”

“Don’t you shush me, girl!” Saílle’s voice thundered over the phone so loud that everybody in the room heard and turned to stare.

I stifled a laugh. We were probably going to need their help and I couldn’t afford to alienate her. “I’m sorry. It’s been a long morning.”

She let out a sigh. “I realize that you’re probably busy and I’m interrupting a meeting, but please tell Herne that we—we being Névé and me—want to meet with him at the first available opportunity to discuss this travesty.” And then, she abruptly ended the call.

I turned back to the others. “That was Saílle. Guess who’s not happy over the announcement about the dragons and wants to meet to discuss strategy?”

Herne groaned. “Wonderful, just wonderful. That’s all we need.”

I sank back into my seat as the others continued to speculate over both Straff and the dragons. Some days, it just didn’t pay to get out of bed.

His eyes were shining, as brown as my own, and it dawned on me that he was trying to present a good appearance for when my father arrived. I let out a soft sigh. “Dude, thank you. I know what you’re doing and I wish you’d stop worrying. Curikan’s going to love you.”

“In my experience, very few fathers want to meet the man who’s fucking their daughter.” Kipa laughed nervously and set the cigars and the chocolates on the table. “Seriously, I know I shouldn’t be nervous, but I am. What if he doesn’t like me? What if he wants you to stop seeing me?”

I tried not to roll my eyes. We had played out this scene every single day the past week. It had never occurred to me that Kipa might actually have insecurities, but they had been presenting themselves loud and clear ever since my father called to say he would arrive shortly after the equinox.

“Kipa, I’m young for my people, but I’m still an adult. I see who I want to see. And trust me, if either one of my parents was going to hate you, it would have been Phasmoria. My mother’s far harder to win over than my father, and she thinks the world of you.” I leaned up on my toes to give him a kiss. The metal hoops of his dolphin-bite piercing were cool against my lower lip, but his embrace was warm and I wanted to scramble into his arms and rub myself against him. Kipa had that effect on me.

My recent time spent in therapy had helped immensely and I almost felt back to my old self, and that included my libido. “You want to do me before he gets here?” Even though we’d had sex the night before, I was more than ready to go again.

Kipa pressed closer to me, kissing me on the nose. “I want to do you all the time. If we could be in bed twenty-four/seven, I’d be happy about it. But I’m afraid that’s not going to happen because I promised Herne I’d show up at the Wild Hunt this morning. He’s got news from the Spiral Web about Gyell and the white-dragon twins.”

The Spiral Web was a secret organization of dragon shifters who were on our side, intent on helping us take down Typhon, the Father of Dragons, and the Luminous Warriors—the dragons who followed him.

That took the oomph out of my sails. Reluctantly, I gave him another kiss.

“Well, that puts a crimp in things, but I understand. Go and be careful.” That phrase—Go and be careful—had become a running refrain between us. We were facing a deadly enemy and everyone at the Wild Hunt Agency had a target on their back. As did I.

“I promise. Remember to lock the door, set the wards, and wand your car if you go out,” Kipa said, stretching and yawning.

“I’ll be going out. I’m reading cards down at the Sun and Moon Apothecary this morning, then I need to shop for groceries, so yeah, I’ll remember.”

Because of the dangers we were facing, Yutani—a coyote shifter from the Wild Hunt—had created wands for everybody at the agency that could detect bugs, bombs, and other such devices. He had made one for me, too, since I worked with them on occasion. When we ran them up one side of the car and down the other, they would emit a high-pitched beep if there was something amiss. The wands weren’t a guarantee of safety, but they could still catch a wide variety of monitoring and explosive devices.

Kipa shrugged into his leather jacket as I walked over to the sliding glass doors leading out into the side yard, off the kitchen. It was raining out, the clouds crowding thickly over the Puget Sound area. The leaves were still covering the boughs but they were in mid-change, turning brilliant shades of copper and rust and yellow as the autumn days began to deepen. While they weren’t ready to go spiraling off the trees, summer was definitely long gone.

As I opened the sliding door, letting fresh air filter in, I noticed a tang to the morning—that chill that foretold nights filled with woodsmoke and the heady scent of petrichor. This was the first hard rain of the season, and from now on, sunny days would be few and far between.

“I think the season’s going to be rainier than usual,” I said, staring at the downpour.

“I think you’re right,” Kipa said, coming up behind me to wrap his arm around my shoulders. “How are you doing, love?”

“I’m better,” I said, leaning back against his chest. “Sejun has managed to remove most of the triggering emotions. The memories I can deal with, as long as the emotional triggers aren’t there. But I tell you this. If I ever see Pandora again, I will do as much damage to that bitch as I can. I may not be able to kill her, but she’ll never put her hands on me again.”

Pandora, the daughter of Zeus, had kidnapped and tortured me. With the help of an Elven counselor—Sejun—I had come to terms with the memories and I actually felt stronger than before. He had helped me turn the panic into determination. Add to that, I wasn’t nearly as naïve as I had been a few months back, and I felt more capable of facing the world. But I was holding a long, dark grudge against Pandora. One day I wanted to meet her on the battlefield and best her. I wanted her to think twice before ever again trying her tricks on another person.

“I know, love. That’s why the extra wards—she’s still out there. I know. And so are Gyell, Aso, and Variance.”

The latter three were dragons determined to bring down the Wild Hunt agency. But all four of them, including Pandora, weren’t as frightening as the force behind them.

Typhon, the Father of Dragons, had set his sights on enslaving the world, on turning it into a dragon free-for-all buffet. Which was why Kipa and I were helping at the Wild Hunt—they were on the frontlines of this battle. The gods were tackling Typhon, who was a Titan, and Herne’s agency was out to stop his emissaries.

I glanced up at Kipa. “I think it’s going to be a cold and dangerous winter.”

“I agree,” he murmured softly. “But we’re together, and that’s what matters.” And once again, the Lord of the Wolves turned me to face him and pressed his lips against mine.

***

After Kipa left, I wandered into the kitchen to rinse our breakfast dishes and put them in the dishwasher. Raj joined me. A gargoyle, he was my best friend, and I took care of his every need. He was about the size of a large rottweiler, with leathery gray skin and puppy-dog eyes. His wings had been cut off by a demon when he was a baby, and I had managed to rescue him via a winning hand in a poker game. I’d paid a powerful witch to wipe Raj’s memory so he wouldn’t remember the pain the demon had inflicted on him. He had lived with me ever since.

“Raven seems quiet today. Is Raven okay?” Raj asked. He walked on his back feet and his front knuckles, a lot like an orangutan. Now, he sat down on his haunches, leaning forward with his hands against the floor.

“Raven’s fine, Raj. Raven is good. She’s just thinking about the autumn.” I tried not to worry Raj. I wanted him to have as carefree a life as he could.

Gargoyles were intelligent, but their intelligence came through in a different way than human or Fae, or—like me—Ante-Fae. They seemed childlike because they perceived the world in a vastly different way.

“Autumn’s fun. Raj likes to go chasing leaves.” He looked glum. “It’s raining. Will Raven still take Raj for a walk later?”

I winced. “Raven’s sorry, Raj. She needs to stop at Llew’s shop and then go grocery shopping. But when she gets home, she’ll bake chocolate chip bars! How about tomorrow?”

Raj thought for a moment, then nodded. “Raj can wait. Raj will watch Acrobert and the Alphas.” He paused. “Raven’s father comes tonight, right?”

“That’s right,” I said.

Sometimes it was hard to describe family relationships to gargoyles. In the wild, they lived in extended family units and sometimes they never knew who their birth parents were. Everyone within each generation was considered a mother, father, sister, or brother. I wasn’t sure how the dynamics worked, but I had been doing some research on the subject and it seemed to be the norm among the various gargoyle clans.

I paused, turning to kneel by him. “Would Raj like some potato chips while he watches his show?”

Raj nodded, his eyes practically glowing. “Raven usually won’t let Raj eat potato chips this early!”

“It’s a special day,” I said, pulling a bag of chips out of the cupboard and shaking out a small bowl of them. “Just wipe the crumbs off if you spill any.” I carried the bowl to the sofa, waiting till Raj got himself situated with the remote. Handing him the bowl, I returned to the kitchen, relieved to hear the television blaring. I had a lot on my mind and really didn’t feel like trying to talk to Raj while I worked.

I took a last look through the fridge and cupboards, jotting down what we were low on, then set the dishwasher to run while I was out. Heading to my bedroom, I stopped to peek in on the ferrets. I had already fed them and changed their bedding, and now they were tuckered out, asleep in their cages. They had several active play sessions a day between which they were out like a light. Finally, I slipped out of my robe and shimmied into black transparent tights. I dressed in a black full skirt, a black mesh turtleneck, and a purple underbust corset. Sitting on the bed, I pulled on a pair of ankle boots covered with buckles and hardware. It wasn’t terribly chilly, but I added a black and plum bolero jacket. I brushed my hair again—I already had my makeup on—and grabbed my purse.

Raj was fully engrossed in his show, so I kissed him on the forehead, made certain all the wards and the alarm system were set, grabbed the wand that Yutani had given me, and took off for my car.

***

The Sun & Moon Apothecary was owned by my friend Llewellyn Roberts, one of the magic-born. He was a fairly powerful witch, married to Jordan Roberts, a tiger shifter who owned the coffee shop right next door—A Taste of Latte. I stopped there first, and ordered a triple-shot caramel mocha with extra whipped cream, then made my way through the bustling streets over to the magic shop.

Herne had helped the United Coalition—the government council—to hold a press conference, warning the nation about the dragons. It had been a move nobody wanted to take, given the possible panic that might ensue. But when the shadow dragons preceding their father’s return had spread out, bringing the dead back to life to attack the living, warning the public had become a necessity. Typhon’s father was Tartarus—the Titan who ruled in the Underworld—and so Typhon and the shadow dragons were keenly in tune with the world of the dead.

I didn’t think any of the other dragons could bring the dead back. Some were in league with Typhon, while others were on our side. When push finally came to shove, nobody on this planet would be able to ignore the fireworks. Dragons weren’t subtle.

I darted into Llew’s shop just as a deluge of rain drenched everyone who was caught outside. The raindrops pounded down, beating a rhythm on the sidewalk. I paused in the door as the wind picked up, driving the rain sideways.

“Boy, if this is the first rain of the season, I dread thinking what it will be like when we’re into the thick of autumn,” I said, hustling over to my table by the window. I set down my cup and then shrugged out of the jacket. Shivering, I scooted over to one of the heating vents on the floor and stood directly over the heat that radiated up.

“Hey, Raven,” Llew said from behind the counter. He had a perplexed look on his face. “What should I take to the farm this weekend? What do you think would sell best at the fair?”

Llewellyn had booked a booth at his friends’ harvest fair that weekend, and I was going along to read the cards. Llew and I had agreed to a twenty-eighty split on my readings, and that was fine with me.

Rain and Marigold Childs, who owned Dream Circle Farms, were a human pagan couple who lived on the outskirts of Woodinville. Rain had taken Marigold’s last name when they married, even though people kept making jokes about how she was a “rain child.”

They sold eggs, flowers, jams, jellies, and honey that they harvested off their farm, and in the autumn, they sold pumpkins and corn during their harvest fair. Come November, they shifted focus and sold vendor spots to local artisans for the winter holidays.

“Potpourri for the autumn, cinnamon sticks, pumpkin pie spice, garlic braids for magical protection. Actually, any protection oils and charms you take will probably fly off the table given everybody knows about the dragons. I’m surprised there hasn’t been more panic.”

Shortly after the announcement there had been an initial surge in hoarding, but people seemed to have gotten comfortable again, and while visits to graveyards were limited to certain hours during which the cemeteries had protection, the majority of people didn’t seem to have made any adjustments to their lives.

“Good idea. I’ll pack up everything for protection and cleansing that I have.”

Llew was a handsome man, lean and lanky with a perpetual smile. His hair was silken smooth, braided back to keep it out of his way. He had grown out his goatee into a neatly trimmed beard and mustache and was wearing a pair of purple jeans, an autumn-leaf print shirt, and a pair of sneakers. He was eclectic, for sure. He was also one of the best friends I had.

“You might want to take some autumn-themed candles,” I added. “You know, spiritual visitation, venerating the ancestors, house cleansing, that sort of thing.”

“I’ll add those into the mix, along with some orange, yellow, and green tapers.” He glanced over at me. “You have two clients this morning, but I kept this afternoon free as you asked.”

I read the cards at Llew’s shop a couple days a week and I had a steady clientele. I was accurate and to the point, and I took the time to help my clients decipher how the readings fit into their lives. It led to repeat customers, which was always a bonus.

My first client was a young woman who wanted to know how her freshman year in college was going to go. The cards predicted she would be a big hit with the geek crowd and ace her studies, and she seemed satisfied by the time we finished.

The second client was a regular, and he asked the same question he always asked. I was running out of advice to give him. I was also running out of patience.

Gary was a nervous man who lived alone. In his mid-thirties, he was a homebody and afraid to put himself out there. His idea of a wild time was to have a beer with his pizza. He also worked the night shift as a security guard in a big office building. In other words, the dude barely knew anybody, worked a cockeyed schedule, and desperately wanted to meet a nice woman with whom he could settle down.

The cards told me pretty much what I could have surmised on my own: If he didn’t get his ass out in public, he wasn’t going to meet anybody. But the thought of going to a bar made him cringe, and when I suggested he join a group that pertained to his side interests, which were birdwatching, reading, and toy poodles, he kept making excuse after excuse as to why it wouldn’t work.

“Gary, you’re never going to meet anyone if you lock yourself in your house all day. The universe doesn’t just toss women like Mardi Gras beads.” I shuffled the cards and put them aside. The reading had said the same thing the last three readings did.

“But why won’t the cards tell me what to do?”

“They have. Three times in a row. They’re telling you the same thing each time because you haven’t got the message through your head yet. I don’t have a different answer for you because there isn’t one.”

He stared at the table, a glum expression on his face. “But I don’t like going out.”

“Do you want to find a date?” I leaned back and folded my arms across my chest. “Either you get your ass out of your house or you sign up for an online dating service and go out with someone the computer matches you with. Hey, that might be the ticket. Why not give it a try?”

He frowned. “What if we don’t get along? What if we have nothing in common? What if I just don’t like her—or she doesn’t like me?”

He was starting to spiral. “Gary, listen to me. Focus.” I held his gaze. “If you don’t like her, you don’t have to go out with her again. If she doesn’t like you, she’ll just refuse a second date. What can you lose, except one evening?” I stared at him, waiting.

Fidgeting, he finally looked me in the eye. “All right. But I’m afraid.”

“Of what?” I was getting irritated. I had cut off clients before when they kept coming back, wanting a different answer without doing the actual work.

He shifted in his seat and finally leaned across the table and whispered, “I’ve only gone out with three women in my life. I’m just…” He blushed and stared at the table.

I reached across the table and patted his hand. “You’re shy. There’s no crime in that. A lot of people are. But you have a lot of wonderful qualities, Gary. You’re smart, you have a good job, you actually want a relationship instead of just somebody to fu—” As he blushed even deeper I quickly shifted to, “sleep with.”

“Thanks, Raven. I suppose you’re right. Unless I put myself out there, how am I ever going to find someone? I’m just not sure what to do.”

I thought quickly. “Let’s get Llew involved. He’ll set you up with a spell to meet someone who’s right for you.”

As the blush on Gary’s cheeks faded, he gave me a genuine smile.

I motioned to Llew. “Gary needs a love spell to attract a good match for him. Could you get him set up with something? I’ve got to run. My father’s coming in tonight and I have to go grocery shopping and get home before he meets Kipa without me.”

While I was certain my father was going to like Kipa, I had a sudden vision of my boyfriend stumbling over his words and blurting out something the wrong way. If I was there, I could smooth the introductions.

Llew motioned for Gary to follow him. “Come on, let’s go get you situated. Have you ever done any magic at all?”

Gary shook his head as Llew led him over to the counter. Feeling a little guilty about foisting Gary off on Llew, I gathered my things and slung my purse over my shoulder. Dropping my cup in the recycling can that Llew kept in the shop, I glanced outside. The rain was still thrashing the streets. No matter what, I was going to get soaked on my way back to my car.

Steeling myself, I pushed open the door and made a run for it.

The break room was empty except for me, surprising given it was one p.m. on Friday afternoon. We normally all ate lunch together, but today was different.

“Herne’s in his office, talking to the mayor. Angel’s downstairs at urgent care.”

“Urgent care? Is she all right?” Viktor’s smile slid off his face.

I hurried to reassure him. “She’s fine, or she will be. She got into a fight with a splinter. She rammed it right under her nail this morning.”

“Ouch. How’d she do that?”

“She was out in the garden, trying to prune one of the bushes. One thing led to another. She tried to coax the splinter out, but half an hour ago she gave up and Herne told her to go down and get it looked at. As for the others, Talia took the afternoon off. She’s got a headache. Kipa’s not coming in today, and Yutani is in his office, talking to ComputaGeek. We need an upgrade to the computer system, apparently, and he’s giving them the specs. Rafé won’t be in till later, of course. Charlie, either.”

Rafé was our new company clerk, and he came to work in the evenings, so that he could do all the filing and organizing needed after we were all gone. It also prevented him and Angel from getting tired of working together, although it did cut down on how many dates they went on. But Angel said it had been good for their relationship, and they both seemed happy. Rafé working evenings served another purpose. He was able to work with Charlie Darren, our resident vampire, on the evenings Charlie came in, and they got more done together than apart.

“Oh. All right.” Viktor sounded a little dejected.

I took one look at him and realized he was disappointed. He was bursting to tell his good news, and I could tell that he wanted everybody in the office to know. I settled back in my chair, fork and TV dinner in hand.

“So tell me, was she surprised?” I had planned on eating at my desk, but Viktor needed to celebrate and I was determined to make him smile.

He thrust his hands in the pockets of his jacket, sitting down beside me.

“Yes and no, actually. Sheila told me that she thought I might be about to propose, but she hadn’t wanted to get her hopes up, just in case she was wrong. However, she didn’t expect a diamond. My mother gave me my grandma’s ring to give to her,” he added, suddenly somber and staring at the ground.

“Oh, that sounds lovely. Your grandmother, is she still alive?”

“No, I’m talking about my mother’s mother, who was human. My maternal grandmother. Besides my mother, Nanna was the only one who fully accepted me for who I was. I still remember her telling me, ‘I love you because of who you are, and everything you are goes into making up your nature, Viktor. Both your human side and your ogre blood.’ Nanna never once tried to deny my ogre heritage, nor did she praise my human side more.”

Viktor had told us many times that he was estranged from his father and his father’s people, but I hadn’t realized that his mother’s side hadn’t accepted him either.

“I’m sure she’s watching over you,” I said. “When did she die?”

Viktor shrugged. “Long ago. My father had traveled to Russia and that’s where he met my mother, back in 1767. He married her and brought her home on a sailing ship, back in 1768. Her parents and her two little sisters came along with her. They settled up on Mount Rainier in the ogre compound. The ogres accepted Tatiana—my mother. She and her family were among the first settlers in this territory, but they lived in the village Keyren, the ogres’ village. It was hidden deep in the mountain, though now it’s moved to the area surrounding the national park.”

“I knew your father’s people had first lived up there, but once Mount Rainier was turned into a national park, I wasn’t sure what had happened.”

“After my parents split, we moved down into what’s now the Puyallup area. My grandpa Viktor was strong and with me to help him, we made our homestead thrive. I’m named after him. He wasn’t all that fond of me, but he didn’t mistreat me.”

“I wondered about your name.”

“Right. At first my name was Yalt. In Ogrísh—the language of the ogres—it means Blessed Between Worlds. My father named me. But when the clan leader instructed him to disown me, my father formally reclaimed my name and gave me to my mother. Among my father’s people, if you’re turned out from the community, they steal your name and you’re no longer allowed to use it, under pain of death. So Mother renamed me after my grandpa.”

That seemed harsh, but then, ogres weren’t a gentle people. They could be brutish and crude, although you’d never know it by how Viktor acted. “How did the local natives feel about you and your family?”

“They were friendly enough. They didn’t care for the ogres, which was understandable given my father’s people are given to thievery and loutish ways, but they didn’t hold my blood against me. We farmed and my mother kept the cows and chickens. We traded with the local tribes for what we needed. I think my grandparents longed for their days in Russia, but they never blamed my mother or me.”

“They never went back, then?”

He shook his head. “How could they? If they took me along with them, there would be so many questions and no one would accept me back home. If they left me and my mother, we would have died in the wilderness. No, my grandmother swore up and down we’d make a comfortable home, and we did.”

“She sounds like a strong woman.” I wondered if Viktor had any living relatives besides his ogre family. I had heard him speak of his mother, but she was human. “Your mother…”

“Tatiana is still alive. She remarried when I was eighteen. I don’t often talk about it, because my stepfather died twenty years after they married and he’s long gone. He fell into a river and drowned before anyone could save him.”

“But she’s alive?”

“Yes, Pierre was one of the magic-born. On their wedding day, he offered her a potion that would extend her life by some three hundred years and she decided to accept it. He offered it to the rest of her family as well, but no one else wanted it. The only problem is, longevity potions and spells don’t guard against accidents and murder. So my mother lost him in 1817, and decided that she’d live out the rest of her life, but she wouldn’t seek to extend it further. She told me she’s seen and done more than most people ever get the chance to.” He suddenly blushed. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be so chatty today. I’m sure this is all very boring.”

“On the contrary. I’m fascinated.” I finished my meal and crossed to the counter, where I poured myself a cup of coffee. Viktor was usually reticent about his family, so him opening up made me feel like he trusted me a little more. “Coffee?”

“Thanks, with cream.”

I handed him the mug and set the dish of creamers in front of him. “What about your grandmother? You said you miss her?”

“Oh, I do. Grandmother Anna used to call me her ‘big boy’ and she’d hold me on her lap. By the time I was four, I was the size of a ten-year-old human, but she never said anything bad about my size. My grandmother’s hair smelled like apples and hay, and she always had a cookie in her pocket for me.”

“How old were you when your parents split?”

“I was…oh…ten? Eleven? Somewhere around there. As it became apparent I wasn’t going to reach the expected size of an ogre male, my father started acting out against my mother. He blamed her and wanted nothing to do with me. The leader of the ogres ordered him to either cast me out into the wilderness, or for her and me to leave. My father told my mother she had to choose.

“I overheard that fight. It isn’t a pleasant memory,” he said, closing his eyes. “In the end, Mother chose me. She told my father to go to hell. The next day, we gathered our things, and my father relented enough to give us the supplies to last through the summer while my grandpa and I built a little cabin. We left the mountain and moved down into the Puyallup valley. Grandpa died of a heart attack five years later, but my grandmother and my mother kept the homestead going. Pierre came along a year or so later and he did wonders adding on to it.”

I pressed my lips together, thinking that all of us at the Wild Hunt had been through one form of hell or another. Well, maybe not Herne, and probably not Kipa, but we had all faced our demons as we grew up.

“I’m sorry it was so hard. Your mother has always supported you, hasn’t she?”

He nodded, his voice softening. “She’s never stopped being my cheerleader. She loves Sheila, and while we’ll never have children of our own—Sheila really doesn’t want to go through pregnancy—we thought we’d adopt. My mother likes the idea. You’ll meet her at the wedding, which will be on Imbolc. Sheila honors the goddess Brighid, though she’s not a priestess. So we thought it would be nice to get married then.”

“I’ll be there with bells on, Viktor. Congratulations again.” I reached up on tiptoe and threw my arms around his neck, giving him a long hug. “You deserve happiness, and so does Sheila.”

At that moment, Herne entered the room. I spun around, poking Viktor on the arm as I did so. “Tell him before I do.”

Herne glanced from me to Viktor and a slow smile spread across his face. “You did it! You asked her?” He tossed his file folders on the table and hurried over to Viktor’s side, grabbing the half-ogre’s hand and shaking it as Viktor nodded, grinning.

“Yes, I did—we’re engaged! The wedding will be on Imbolc. We were wondering if you would mind hosting the wedding at your house, Ember? We want a garden wedding—we’re hoping for snow, but that’s something we can’t control.”

“Of course you can! We’d be thrilled to host it. I know Angel will agree.”

“Thank you. And…Herne, I have a special request. If the answer’s no, that’s fine, but I don’t want Sheila to know until our wedding day.”

“What is it? You know you can ask me for anything, man.” Herne pumped Viktor’s hand again, his voice cracking just a little.

One look at Herne’s cornflower blue eyes and I knew that he was putting on a good show, but behind the smile was a trace of worry.

I hadn’t answered his proposal yet. I was close to an answer, but the ramifications of what it meant to be the wife of a god had set in, and I wanted to be fully aware of what I was promising before I gave my word. But Herne was struggling with my hesitation and I knew I had to give him an answer soon.

“I was wondering if you might ask the Lady Brighid if… You see, Sheila reveres her, and I know—I just know if Brighid were to oversee the service or even send her blessing…” Viktor faltered, wincing. “I just realized what I’m asking.”

“No, good gods, man, it’s not a problem for me to ask her. She might say yes. The Lady Brighid can be extremely generous about things like this.” Herne turned to me. “I have to go visit my father in Annwn tomorrow. I’ll drop by Brighid’s palace then and see what she says. Do you want to go with me?”

I shook my head. “Actually, your mother’s coming to dinner at my house tomorrow around six.”

Morgana had been to my home once or twice, but always with Herne, and sometimes with Cernunnos. It felt awkward asking her to come solo, but I wanted to have a heart-to-heart chat with her, and I didn’t want Herne listening in.

Herne cocked his head, squinting at me. “All right, then. Well, you are pledged to her.”

That was another thing. How would that work once Herne and I were married? If I became a goddess—a thought that freaked me out—what the heck did that mean for my interactions with Morgana? It was too much to think about right now.

“So, are we on for Lughnasadh tomorrow night? Marilee’s leading the ritual, if we’re still all good for it.” I leaned back in my chair, thinking about marriage and holidays and all the celebrations that made up our lives.

Milestones were important. They were reminders of crossroads in our lives, and the touchstones that kept us connected to the cycles of the earth. We called it the Wheel of the Year, and the Fae and other Cryptos weren’t the only ones who celebrated the Sabbats—the name for the eight great festivals that marked the quarters and cross-quarters of the year. Human pagans also celebrated the holy days, and together, we bridged gaps in age and race and even species, coming together to mark the tides of life in joy and in sorrow.

“We’ll be there with bells on. Or, corn tassels. Marilee has done wonders for you, and for Angel.” Herne gave me a quick peck on the forehead. “I’ve got to run. Will I see you tonight?”

I shook my head. “No, Angel and I decided we need a girls’ night. It’s been too long since we’ve just climbed into our PJs and binge-watched some of our favorite shows with a big bowl of popcorn and a tub of ice cream.”

Snickering, he merely nodded. “I get it. No boys allowed.”

“Right.” And because I wanted to set him somewhat at ease, I added, “You know before too long I won’t have that option. Not if you and I are…” I paused, biting my lip. Was I really ready to say yes? But then I caught a glimpse of Viktor over at the refrigerator. This was his night and I didn’t want to spoil it for him.

Herne leaned in and gazed into my eyes. “Are you saying…”

“Not yet.” I gave a covert nod toward Viktor. “But soon. I promise you, before the week is up, I’ll have an answer for you. I just have a couple more things to decide.” I kept my voice low, not wanting Viktor to overhear. “Meanwhile, why don’t you take Viktor out tonight, to celebrate his engagement? Get Yutani to go as well, although he doesn’t drink much.”

Yutani, our IT guy and a coyote shifter whose father was the Great Coyote himself, was a borderline alcoholic. He kept himself sober and when he did drink, he never had more than one or two drinks. He was tightly wound, and a Dom, and altogether, a good man who walked on the freaky side of life. But then again, weren’t we all a little freaky?

“Good idea. We don’t have to go to a bar. I think I could persuade Yutani to go bowling.” He glanced over at Viktor. “Hey, want to go bowling to celebrate your engagement? We can take Yutani and Rafé with us as well.”

At that moment, my phone rang. I glanced at the caller ID. It was Angel. Frowning, I answered. “Hey, what’s up? How are you? When are you getting your butt back up here?”

She didn’t bother to answer. “Ember, turn on the TV. Channel 8 KPOZ. Hurry.”

I grabbed the remote from the counter and pointed it toward the break room television and switched it on to channel 8.

“This just in,” the newscaster said from behind the desk. “The town of Klarkson, on Highway 2, has been overrun by creatures that no one has yet been able to identify. They’re attacking the townsfolk. Several people have been seriously injured, including five children. Right now, police are swarming the graveyard from where the creatures are believed to have originated, but officers have been forced to fall back twice. Bullets are proving useless, and the creatures are inhumanly strong and appear entirely uncommunicative. Mayor Willis of Klarkson has appealed to the National Guard for help, and there’s so much chaos that no one seems to know what course of action to follow.”

The news anchor held her hand to her ear, pausing, then looked bleakly at the camera. “I have a report from the Klarkson Hospital. They are reporting the admittance of four adults in critical condition, along with three children who are also critical. If you are in Klarkson, police ask that you please stay in your houses and lock your doors and windows.”

I turned down the volume, looking at Herne. “What the hell?”

He was staring at the screen, a solemn look on his face. “This started in the graveyard? You know what I’m thinking.”

“Yeah, me too. Typhon.” I returned to my phone call with Angel. “How did you find out about this?”

“Urgent care has a TV in the waiting room and I’m waiting to pay my bill. You think it’s Typhon?” She paused, then added, “I have a feeling in my stomach, Ember—it’s not good.”

When Angel had a gut reaction to something, we paid attention. She was human, mostly—and I say mostly because we suspected that she had some degree of magic-born blood in her system—and she was an empath. She was also my best friend and had been since we were eight years old and got in a mud-wrestling battle that netted us both a trip to the principal’s office. After that less-than-auspicious start to our friendship, we bonded instantly.

“Not good, how? Not good as in, gee this sounds nasty, or not good as in, we’d better get ready or get our asses kicked?” I wasn’t sure where Klarkson was, but I knew that I didn’t want to go there.

“Not good as in, we’d better get prepared because there’s something much bigger on the horizon.” Her voice drifted off and after a moment she said, “I’ll be up shortly.”

I shoved my phone back in my pocket and turned to Herne. Both Viktor and he were watching the footage out of Klarkson. There wasn’t much yet, and they were running the same clips over and over, along with video taken by the townsfolk using their cell phones. A lot of it was fuzzy and indistinct, but after a few moments, a clip came on that was clear as a bell.

The creature looked a lot like a zombie in many ways, but there was a brightness to the eyes that whispered “cunning” to me. But zombies weren’t cunning. They had some form of sentience, but they weren’t the brightest bulbs in the socket. These creatures were corpses in varying stages of decay, but they crouched low, skulking along, and there was a malevolence to them that felt like more than the feeding frenzy of zombies. Nor were they ghouls. Given I’d spent most of my adult life cleaning up messes with sub-Fae and the undead, I could spot the differences.

“What do you think they are?” I asked Herne.

He shook his head, his gaze fixed on the screen. “I don’t know, but we’d better find out.”

“Angel thinks we’re in for something big.”

As we watched the report spinning out, I could feel the hair standing up on my arms. Angel was right. Typhon was sending something new at us and, whatever it was, we weren’t going up against a mere batch of skeletal warriors.

I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. All the joy that I had felt over Viktor’s announcement had drained away. We were truly entering the war against the Father of Dragons, and life wasn’t going to let us forget what we were facing. After a moment, I turned and headed down the hall, poking my head into Yutani and Talia’s office. Yutani glanced up and I saw that he was watching the news on his tablet.

“You saw?”

He nodded. “Yeah. But it’s worse than that. The local channel just came out with a report. Something similar is happening in the Worchester District. We’d better get ready to rumble.”

As he stood, I cursed under my breath. Just what we needed right now. Angry that we couldn’t have one day to celebrate—just one day to breathe—I gave him an abrupt nod and headed for my office. It was time to get suited up and ready to go.

My voice rang clear and sure, as I forced as much energy into the command as I could. I had the power to drive her back to the Phantom Kingdom. She couldn’t move on, not until she let go of her anger and accepted her death, but I should be able to break her hold on the material world and send her packing.

However, Lenora didn’t want to go. Instead of obeying me, she reared up, her misty form taking on substance. Crap. That’s the last thing I needed. Ghosts who could take on corporeal form were the hardest to deal with.

“Old mother, back into your bed to slumber! Return to your grave.” I intensified my focus and as I did so, the opening in the fabric of the Veil became visible. I could see the rip that led to the Phantom Kingdom as clearly as I could see the mausoleum.

The Phantom Kingdom was the world in which all realms intersected, and it stood outside of time and space. There, spirits who hadn’t yet gone on to their rest or a new life wandered, looking for rips in the Veil so they could return to the world to which they were still so attached. The Phantom Kingdom also led to the Dreamtime, the spirit world, the astral realm, and other etheric altaverses. It was the universal realm that acted as a gateway to all other worlds, both physical and energetic.

I focused on the opening, softening my gaze. The rip didn’t look like a natural portal, but rather like it had been torn open. Over the past few months, more and more tears like this had occurred, and they were directly related to Typhon’s waking. He had not yet come into the physical realm, but he was awake and hiding out someplace in the Phantom Kingdom. As he spun out his plans, more breaches in the Veil were occurring. This was the fifth time I’d been called out by Herne and the Wild Hunt to drive angry ghosts back to the grave.

Feeling both irritated and exhausted, I resorted to one of the oldest tricks in the book. It was an old remedy, but effective. I opened my traveling bag o’ magic and sorted through it until I found what I was looking for. Goofer dust. A variant of the usual hoodoo blends, I had mixed it with the specific intent to drive ghosts back through the Veil. First, I had blended a mixture of graveyard dirt, ground black pepper, silver filings, asafetida, and powdered raven’s bones. Then I added clippings from my mother’s hair—which she had willingly given to me—and charmed the whole mixture in Circle, invoking Arawn’s energy into the cauldron.

Hand on my hip, I stared up at Lenora. She was rapidly taking form and it occurred to me that I’d better work fast, because by the look on her face, she was getting ready to dive-bomb me.

Frowning, I edged back a step as I tried to twist the lid off the jar of goofer dust. Apparently, that’s all the impetus Lenora needed. I went flying through the air and landed on my butt at the base of a fern. The goofer dust went rolling to the side as I landed on a sharp rock jutting out of the ground.

“Motherfucking…” I groaned as I eased my tailbone off the rock, but froze as the spirit came barreling toward me again, this time in the shape of a misty ramrod.

“Oh no you don’t!” I rolled to the side, grabbing up the jar of goofer dust. I came to a squatting position, keeping my eye on Lenora. The attack had disrupted her form, and she was now a scattered mist, but she was trying to gather herself together again—the mist was beginning to coalesce again.

Panting, I wrenched the lid off the goofer dust and waited for her to attack me again.

“Come on, bitch! You want a taste of me? Come on, try it again, I dare you!” I usually had respect for the dead, but not when they were trying to kill me. And with her attack, Lenora had crossed the line into my I don’t give a fuck category. I would do whatever needed to send her back to where she came from.

As the sun vanished below the horizon, Lenora took on an ethereal glow, shimmering in the twilight. She was eerily beautiful, like a memory caught in time, transparent and tragic. Her face was vaguely skeletal—she had lost the vestiges of the woman she had once been. Chances were, she hadn’t chosen to wake up. Chances were good that the Father of Dragons had been responsible for her waking. But even though it wasn’t her fault, she was here now, awake and angry, and I was her current target.

“Time to go back to the grave, Lenora.”

As she began to take form again, the mist thickening, fear rose in my throat. She’s just a spirit, I whispered to myself. You’ve tackled far harder jobs than this before.

But then, before Lenora could attack again, I caught a glimpse of my hands. I was wearing fingerless lace gloves, but they couldn’t hide my memories. My nails were shiny and new, they had grown in quickly, but there were scars all over my fingertips. I stared at them, feeling dizzy, and then…

***

I was staring up at Pandora, chained to a metal table in a cavern, and nobody knew where I was. The blonde who had been so friendly to me at Fire & Fang was now leaning over me, gently stroking my face. But there were stars in her eyes and she swayed as I watched, the look on her face terrifying and cruel.

“I’m afraid this is going to hurt you a lot more than it does me, darling,” she said, her smile turning feral. She held up a wicked pair of pliers. “We’ll start easy, how about that? Now, buck up. I know you can handle this, lovely one. You’re one of the Ante-Fae. You can handle far more than you think you can. I promise you that.”

I tried to speak, but my tongue felt like cotton. She had charmed me so I couldn’t say a word. I could scream, but I couldn’t form words.

I struggled to speak, but I could barely open my lips. Frustrated, I let out a faint noise, the sound ripping out from my throat.

“Oh, love, don’t thank me.” A sneer replaced the smile. “Trust me, by the time I’m done with you, you’ll curse me, you’ll hate me, you’ll fear me, and with every scream and every tear you shed, I’ll feast on your sorrow. You’ll never, ever forget me. I’ll live in your dreams and your nightmares.” She raised the pliers and moved away from my face, turning her attention to my left hand.

I felt her take my fingers, but couldn’t see what she was doing. She had me shackled to the table, and the iron cuffs chafed at my wrists. Thank the gods I was Ante-Fae and not Fae or my skin would be blistered and burned by now. As it was, the iron would take its toll but it would take longer to do so.

As she held my index finger, I stiffened, realizing what she was going to do. I shifted, fighting against the restraints, but to no use. The cuffs were rock solid.

“Don’t worry, this won’t take any time at all,” Pandora said.

I tensed as I felt cold metal touch the tip of my finger. And then, the next moment, she laughed as a blistering pain registered through my finger. Before I could scream, she moved onto the next finger and by the time the screams ripped out of my throat, she was on the third. My voice echoed against the ceiling, ricocheting off the walls.

Pandora laughed and moved up to gaze in my face. “Delicious. You’re absolutely delicious.” She licked her lips, looking lascivious and wanton. As the fire spread through my hand and into my body, she returned to my side and took hold of the fourth finger.

Once again, the flames roiled inside…

***

Lenora cackled as she body-slammed me to the ground and I shook out of my memories. I rolled up, crouching low as I finally yanked the cap off the goofer dust. As the ghost launched another attack, I poured a mound of the dust in my hand and tossed it at her.

The dust hit her square in her face and confusion spread over her face as she went reeling back through the rip in the Veil. I held my hand up to the rip, focusing on smoothing it shut, and the tear sealed back together.

Lenora was back where she belonged. At least, for now.

I sat down on the grass, staring at the graveyard around me. It was quiet now, and although I could see a few spirits wandering the grounds, none of them seemed out of place or intent on causing trouble. I leaned back, bringing my knees to my chest. I wrapped my arms around my knees as the sound of birdsong echoed around me. As dusk settled, I gazed up at the emerging stars and began to cry. Around me, the spirits passed by, giving me muted looks of sorrow from their shadowy realm.

***

“I’m home,” I said, opening the door. I had texted ahead. Kipa was constantly nagging me to let him know where I was and that I was all right. While I understood why, the truth was—his constant need for reassurance was beginning to bother me.

Raj came lumbering up to rub against my legs. While I had always loved him, lately we had grown closer. He kept an eye on my moods and it was as though he could sense I was lost in my thoughts again, trapped in my memories.

“Raven looks sad,” Raj said. He stared up at me, his eyes wide and welcoming. “Is Raven in the bad place again?”

That was Raj’s way of asking if I had slipped into another flashback. Ever since Pandora had kidnapped me, I found myself slipping into fugues, reliving the things she had done to me. And if Ember and Trinity hadn’t come to my rescue, I’d be dead by now. I was all too aware of that fact. I prided myself on my ability to take care of myself. We Ante-Fae were hard to kill, but when a goddess took it into her mind to turn sadist, there wasn’t much that mortals could do to stop her. And I had been reminded all too violently of my mortality.

“Raven’s all right, Raj. Raven’s home now.” I knelt down and wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing him on the head. “How’s Raj doing?”

Ignoring my question, Raj said, “Kipa misses Raven. Raven spend time with Kipa?” He gave me those big brown puppy-dog eyes that only gargoyles, cats, and dogs could muster.

I bit my lip, feeling torn.

Kipa had been nothing but wonderful since I had come home from the Healing Center in Annwn. But as much as I appreciated Kipa’s protection, I chafed against it. Part of me wanted to retreat inside his arms, to beg him to go with me every time I left the house, just in case that psycho bitch was still gunning for me. But another part of me wanted to fight back, to prove that she wasn’t ruling my life now.

I pressed my lips together, stroking the leather hide of Raj’s back. He looked so worried that I finally smiled and nodded. “Yes, Raven will spend time with Kipa. Raven loves Raj.”

“Raj knows Raven loves him. Does Raven love Kipa?”

Kipa and I were still dancing around those words, though I had the feeling he really did love me. But neither one of us approached the thought easily, and neither one of us took the declaration lightly. So the words remained unspoken, and I figured that—if they came—they would come in their own time. However, when it came to Raj, there was a fine line between love and like. He looked so anxious that I just nodded.

“Yes, Raven loves Kipa.” And it was true, if I let myself admit it.

Satisfied, Raj wandered back to the living room where he fired up the television. The lively sounds of Acrobert and the Alphas blared out, breaking the silence. I leaned back against the door, took a deep breath to steady myself, and then plastered a smile on my face and headed toward the living room where Kipa was waiting with Raj. He glanced up, his eyes lighting up.

“I’m glad you’re home. Did you scare away the ghost?”

“She’s back in the Phantom Kingdom, but it wasn’t easy.” I shrugged off the light jacket I was wearing and hung it on the coatrack. “I swear, there has to be a better way to deal with the situation. The gods are no closer to having an answer than they were last month, and things are getting very real, very fast.”

Kipa scooted over on the sofa and patted the cushion beside him. “The gods are doing everything they can, but as long as Typhon’s hiding out in the Phantom Kingdom, there isn’t much we can do. To be honest, none of us know how to drive him back into stasis. There’s a lot of talk and bluster, but not much to act on. Did you have any trouble tonight?”

“No, it was all pretty standard.” I didn’t want to tell him about the flashback. I was tired of having flashbacks, and I felt like I should be over them by now. Also, if I told him, he’d start to panic and then he’d try to make things better and we’d only end up in an argument.

“Is there any spaghetti left? I’m still hungry.” Instead of sitting beside him, I headed toward the kitchen. I saw his smile fall away before I left the room.

He followed me into the kitchen, leaning on the counter as I rummaged through the refrigerator and found the cold spaghetti, neatly packed away inside of a plastic tub. Kipa had certainly gotten better at cooking over the past month or so, and he had also taught himself how to clean up after I had laid into him about leaving a sink full of dishes for me to do. I knew he was trying, and I wished I didn’t feel so prickly.

“You want me to heat that up?” He moved to get a plate, but I shook my head.

“I like cold spaghetti. I’ll just eat out of the container.” I grabbed a fork before he could get it for me, and skirted him as I headed toward the table. He caught me around the waist though, pulling me in for a kiss. I stiffened, but let him kiss me on the cheek, then quickly disentangled myself and headed for the dining room.

“Do you want me to stay over tonight?” He followed me, but didn’t sit down. Instead, he stood behind one of the chairs, leaning on the back of it. He was gorgeous, and he cared, and I hated that I really didn’t want to be around him right now. I felt horrible because he was so good-hearted, but that was also why I didn’t want him around right now. I was snapping at anybody over every little thing, and I didn’t want to make him a target.

“No. Go ahead, I’m sure you must have things to do. It’s so late that I think I’m just going to eat dinner and crash for the night.” We had only had sex two or three times since I had escaped Pandora’s lair. When anybody held me too tightly, even for a hug, I began to panic.

His shoulders slumping, Kipa let out an exhausted sigh. “Fine. I do have some errands to run.” He paused, glancing at me.

I could feel the hesitation there and finally set down my fork. “I know you want to say something. I can tell. Please, just be honest.”

“Do you even want me around? I’ve tried to give you space, I’ve tried to help. I don’t know what to do anymore. I don’t know if you want me here, or if you just want me to leave. I’m never certain that you mean what you say nowadays. I don’t know if you even still like me.” The broken notes in his voice almost broke my heart.

Tears flecking my eyelashes, I turned to him. “I don’t know what to say. I do care about you, more than you can possibly imagine. But I’m not coping very well with the aftermath of all this. I don’t like being touched. Every time somebody hugs me, I feel like I’m trapped. I wake up in a panic if the blankets are too tight. I’ve…” I paused. I hadn’t told him about the flashbacks yet.

“What? You’re not telling me something.”

“Kipa, I’ve been having flashbacks—I had one tonight while I was fighting that ghost and it gave her the chance to knock me over. I’m afraid every time I go out. I know I should be stronger than this. Hell, what she did to me hurt, but it wasn’t as bad as what she did to the others. And I survived. I’m one of the Ante-Fae. I’m supposed to be strong. I’m supposed to be able to cope with things like this.” I stared down at my spaghetti, not wanting to see the look of disappointment on his face.

Kipa pulled the chair out and slid into the seat. He didn’t reach for my hand, but his voice was soft. “Raven, you may be one of the Ante-Fae, but you’re still young. And you’ve never had to face anything like that before. Pandora didn’t get as far with you as she did her other victims, but she was headed there. You have a right to be terrified. Neither I—nor anybody else—expects you to come through this without help. If you think that I expect you to just pretend it didn’t happen, or be some strong silent heroine, you’re totally wrong. I do want to be here for you. And I’m okay with not having sex right now. I’m okay with you not feeling capable of cuddling or hugging right now. What I’m not okay with is you keeping all of these emotions bottled up.”

I hung my head. “Great. I feel guiltier than ever. No, really, you are being so good about this, and I feel like I’ve just turned into a total bitch.”

“I wish you would talk to someone. I wish you would talk to Ferosyn. You have PTSD, and don’t you even try to deny it. He could help.”

It felt like I could barely breathe. I wanted to say yes. I wanted to ask for help. The trouble was, I wasn’t quite ready. I felt like I was trapped in some horrible dream and every time I turned, there was something to remind me of that night. Whether it was the new teeth growing in my jaw where she had ripped out all my molars, or whether it was looking at the shiny new nails on my nail beds, or whether it was catching a glimpse of the scars on my body when I looked at myself naked in the mirror, Pandora was everywhere in my reality. Her reminders were everywhere on my body. It didn’t help that she was still alive, either. The gods were immortal, and I felt like I’d never be free of wondering if she was still out there somewhere, waiting to come after me again.

“I wish I could, too. I wish it was simply a matter of me saying yes, I want help. I just don’t think I can talk about it yet, to anybody. Any therapist is going to want me to relive it, and I don’t think I’m ready to go through it again.”

“Raven, you’re facing it every day,” Kipa said. “You’re coping with this alone, locked in your heart. Nobody can handle memories like yours without a little help.” He paused, then let out another sigh and stood. “I’m here when you need me. I’ll spend the night at my place, but if you call, I’ll come running. You don’t have to say anything, you don’t have to do anything except just say the word—just one word—and I’ll be here. Meanwhile, I’ll give you some space.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, tearing up. “I’m so sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Kipa slipped on his leather jacket, and headed for the door. Pausing, he looked back over his shoulder. “I’m not letting you push me away. I know that’s not what you want, and I know you’re trying to protect me from your moods. Trust me, I can handle far more than you think, and I’ve seen far worse. I’m here when you need me.” And with that, he patted Raj on the head and took off out the door.

I pushed back the container of spaghetti, trying to steady my breath. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted to break things and throw things. It was like I had an inner spring that was coiled so tightly that it was ready to break. Finally, I managed to calm down. I stared at the table until I could breathe again, then began eating again.