Night Myst Part 7

Rhiannon had always been the quieter one, more intent on thinking things through before acting. She wasn't exactly timid, but she seemed delicate to me-almost like a hollow reed.

Reeds are strong, you know, Ulean whispered to me. Ulean whispered to me. They bend during storms, rather than break. They bend during storms, rather than break.

I blinked. Yes, but reeds won't hold up a house. Yes, but reeds won't hold up a house.

They make a good raft, so don't write them off so fast.

Shaking away the thought of Rhiannon being a life raft, I headed downstairs to find her finishing up on the kitchen. It looked spotless.

I yawned as I slid into one of the kitchen chairs.

"So what next? We . . ." I stopped, realizing that we had no idea of what to do after we warded the house. At least as far as finding Heather. "What the h.e.l.l are are we going to do next?" we going to do next?"

"Yeah, I know," Rhiannon said, softly. "I've been thinking the same thing. My mother's gone, and I may never see her again. I love Heather. I know we had our differences, but she stood up for me and I love her. I'm not sure what I'm going to do if she's gone for good."

"Don't say that! We'll find her, we'll bring her back." Even as I said the words, I didn't know if I believed them.

"I can't think about this right now. Everything's too much to take in. So tell me what happened with Grieve."

I shook my head. "What can I say? He's dangerous and I love him. The two are mutually exclusive, aren't they? I guess I never stopped loving him. No man in the past nine years has ever meant anything to me beyond being a one-night stand. Or a friend. Now I know why."

Rhiannon wrapped her arms around my neck and hugged me tight. "I know it hurts to hear, but Cicely, if he warned you away, there must be a reason." One look at my face and she slipped into the chair next to me. "You've got it bad."

"I wasn't ready to stay when I was here before. I wasn't ready to commit myself to him, and Krystal needed me. But now I am. And now it's too late. He belongs to the enemy."

She rubbed my shoulders. "Let it be. What will happen, will happen. And maybe . . . maybe he's still who he was. Maybe he can shake the turning somehow-it's not like he's dead, if what the book says is correct."

There was a sound, like knocking. I glanced at my cousin, who shook her head. "Don't," she said.

I'm here, Ulean whispered. Ulean whispered.

Slowly, I made my way to the front door and opened it. There was no one there. I stepped out onto the porch, looking right and left, and almost immediately felt someone's gaze focused on me from the ravine. A look over at the trailhead showed that a wolf stood half-on, half-off the path.

Grieve.

He padded toward me through the snow, and the next thing I knew, I was on the lawn, then halfway across toward the thicket with the wolf approaching me, eyes brilliant emerald, fur a silvery gray.

I reached out and he touched his nose to my hand. A spark ricocheted up and down my spine, then spread through my stomach where my wolf's head tattoo was located. A resonance tingled across my lower abs, singing through the ink. I gasped as the wolf jumped up, its forepaws on my shoulders, and gazed into my eyes. In another flash, the animal was gone as Grieve pulled me into his arms and pressed his lips against mine.

"Let go of me." Grieve held me so tight I could barely breathe. I elbowed him, trying to break away.

"Stop squirming," he whispered. "It drives me crazy when you struggle, and I could hurt you." And there it was, in his voice. The hypnotic pull. And a deadly threat hiding behind the desire.

"Grieve, please stop." I'd been in enough situations with crack-crazed junkies looking for drug money or a quick f.u.c.k that I'd learned how to relax and avoid setting off panic b.u.t.tons. Grieve might not be a druggie, but I recognized the razor's edge in his voice. He was walking a thin line and I didn't want to push him over the brink.

I forced myself to hold still. Struggle, and I was prey. Submit, and he might come to his senses. Closing my eyes, I willed the wind to give me strength, to sh.o.r.e me up and calm my fears. As a cool breeze raced over me, my pulse slowed and my heart stopped racing.

Grieve loosened his embrace, but my wolf tattoo kept up a warm keening throughout my body.

I stumbled away, keeping my eyes on him. Never turn your back on a predator. Too dangerous. A deviant little smile crinkled the corner of his lips and he darted his tongue out as he brought his fingers up to his mouth, licking them.

"I can taste your sweat," he said, never taking his gaze off of me. "I can smell you. You still want me. Don't even try to lie about it."

I stared at him. He knew He knew . . . Part of me didn't want him knowing how I felt because that knowledge would give him an advantage, and part of me wanted to rush right back into his embrace. . . . Part of me didn't want him knowing how I felt because that knowledge would give him an advantage, and part of me wanted to rush right back into his embrace.

"Back off. Don't do anything you'd regret later."

He let out a sharp bark. "Regret? I have no regrets. Not anymore," he added softly, but something in his voice told me he was lying. At least to himself.

"I almost forgot you could change into a wolf." Which I hadn't, but it was something to say, something to ease us back to safety.

"I am born of the Cambyra Fae, the Shifting Ones. There's a great deal you seem to have forgotten about me, Cicely Waters. About us us." He glanced at the house. Rhiannon and Leo were watching from the porch and I prayed they wouldn't make any sudden movements. "I'm sorry about your aunt. But she should have been more careful." He circled me slowly.

I turned, mirroring his movements. "Did you take her? Did you kidnap Heather?"

"Kidnap is such a pale word, don't you think?" He stopped, his face deadpan. Then he shook his head. "No, I didn't take her; I swear on my life that I did not. But I know who did. I told you, Myst rules the town. And she always gets whatever she wants."

"Is Heather still alive?"

"That's information I'm not privy to, Cicely."

I sucked in a deep breath. "So, I guess my next question is, does Myst rule your your actions? Are actions? Are you you truly now a part of the Indigo Court, Grieve? What happened to your devotion to the Queen of Rivers and Rushes? Is Lainule still alive?" truly now a part of the Indigo Court, Grieve? What happened to your devotion to the Queen of Rivers and Rushes? Is Lainule still alive?"

He leaned toward me and I thought he might kiss me again but instead he lingered a few inches away from my lips. "Devotion is an honorable attribute but unfortunately not one apt to prolong my life under certain circ.u.mstances."

I narrowed my eyes. He hadn't hurt me yet, but that was no guarantee my luck would hold. I tensed to run should he decide to come at me.

"I'll ask you again: Do you answer to the Indigo Court? Are you . . . are you one of the Vampiric Fae? What happened to Lainule?"

Grieve's eyes flashed. He laughed, low and throaty.

"I was born of the Cambyra . . . but ask you this: How do you think those of us belonging to the n.o.bility saved our necks? The Queen of Rivers and Rushes managed to escape. We don't know where she is, and for that I am grateful. I would not want to see her at the mercy of Myst. But hundreds in the court were slaughtered. Ma.s.sacred. I watched them die, torn to bits, their souls drained even as their veins were bled dry."

He shuddered, a look of revulsion filling his face. "The Indigo Court feed in a frenzy, Cicely. Like sharks or piranha. They can devour their victims alive. They're b.l.o.o.d.y and terrifying, and entirely without remorse. I decided to forego the pleasure of that particular demise. Chatter was spared for two reasons only: he's not one of the n.o.bility, and I begged them to let me keep him as my pet. I went down on my knees for him, and that is why he lives."

He reached out and stroked my cheek. "Chatter was worried I'd kill you. But trust me on this: I will never deliberately destroy you. I will never deliberately hurt you. Long ago I caught a glimpse of the future, a glimpse of what potential you had, and of who you would become. And of who you are. We're meant to be together, Cicely. I always knew you'd come back to me when you were ready. I told you to go away but . . . I can't bear the thought of seeing you leave again."

I started to back away, but he began to follow. Stopping, I whispered, "You've changed so much."

"More than you can ever know." With another laugh, he ran his hand down my arm, then hooked me around the waist. The cold seeped into my body but I barely noticed it. A swirl of snowflakes fell, twirling around our faces as his breath came in soft puffs, warming my face.

"I can save you and your friends from Myst, as long as you obey me. There's nothing I can do to help your aunt. But you . . . and your cousin . . . I can keep you alive if you cooperate. If you look the other way If you look the other way."

Barely able to breathe, I slowly shook my head. "We can't do that. We can't leave Heather-or the town-to the mercy of the Indigo Court. This is no game, and Heather's life isn't up for grabs, even in order to keep us alive."

He let out a low breath. "Then the only way I can help is to keep silent about what you've told me," he whispered, his breath trailing down my neck in a thin line of mist. He moaned softly and pressed his teeth against my skin.

I stood perfectly still as the razor-sharp points nicked my flesh, poised for the bite. A drop of saliva hit my skin, then another, and-reacting to the warmth of his body-I leaned against him.

"Grieve." I murmured his name. "Oh, Grieve . . ." As if he sensed I'd lost control, Grieve shuddered and pushed me away. "Go. Go before I take you right here. I can no longer help my nature."

I stared at him, my breath ragged. "You're lying. You wouldn't be here, warning me, if you couldn't control your instincts."

"Don't doubt me! I know who I am. I know what what I am. Now, go, d.a.m.n you!" He whirled, his eyes blazing, then the air shimmered as he shifted back into a wolf and bared his teeth. I am. Now, go, d.a.m.n you!" He whirled, his eyes blazing, then the air shimmered as he shifted back into a wolf and bared his teeth.

Ever so slowly, I backed away toward the house, praying that neither Rhiannon nor Leo would utter a word till we made it inside. One wrong move, one wrong sound, and Grieve would be on me and he'd either tear me to shreds or carry me off. As I reached the porch and climbed the steps, he turned and loped back toward the ravine.

"Get indoors," I said hoa.r.s.ely. "Now!" "Now!"

Leo slammed the door behind us, then locked it. A thin plank of wood was all that stood between us and the dangerously seductive Indigo Court.

"How are those protection charms coming?" I hurried from room to room, making certain all the windows and doors were locked. "We've got to have some sort of protection for the doors tonight."

Rhiannon motioned for us to follow her into the utility room. "I found the batch of protection oil that Heather made up. While you were upstairs unpacking, I covered enough wooden pentacles with it to hold the windows fast."

"And I charged up several witches' bottles." Leo lifted the bottles, clear gla.s.s filled with threads and sparkling salts and herbs. "Set one by each door leading to the outside. Then a drop or two of blood on them should trigger the spell and they'll keep out intruders. But they won't last against a sustained a.s.sault and I have no doubt that any magicians the Indigo Court has within its ranks will be able to break through. I wouldn't trust these for more than two days, tops."

"Let's get to it then. I'll hang the protection charms over the windows upstairs. Rhiannon, take the downstairs windows. Leo-you made the bottles, so you should put them by the doors. Make sure all the cats are inside for the night."

Rhiannon and Leo grabbed their supplies and took off. I headed for the stairs, but stopped in the living room, drawing back the curtain to peer out of the window. Twilight had fallen and lights flickered from the ravine.

Faerie lights, they looked like Christmas lights, twinkling against the snowscape, but I know they were willo'-the-wisps. Masks of illusion, the corpse candles were harbingers of death and I knew without a doubt that Myst controlled their movements. The Mistress of Mayhem was in charge, and one of her servants had a direct feed into my body and heart.

Chapter 8.

The next morning, on my way to the gym at New Forest Conservatory, I kept my eyes open, but nothing seemed out of place. I'd promised Rhiannon I'd meet her for coffee after my workout before she headed into work.

Early morning, the skies were brighter than they'd been the day before, but a silvery luminescence to the clouds promised more snow later. The chill seeped right through my leather jacket and I decided to take it in to an alterations shop and have it lined.

On my way across campus, it struck me how silent the conservatory seemed. New Forest Conservatory was a small school on a large campus. Along with a focus on basic learning, the school taught magical and physical skills to the magic-born in the area, as well as community service cla.s.ses for older Supes-vamps and Fae primarily-in order to help them adjust to life out in the open. But the majority attending were under eighteen, and of the magic-born.

Set on a thousand acres of wooded land on the outskirts of the town, the school accepted a total of one thousand students each year, with preference granted to returning students who met the strict requirements for progress.

The conservatory had an Old World feel to it, which wasn't a surprise, considering Geoffrey's people were in charge. The vamps ran just about every school like this. They were the ones with the money. Most of the magic-born did okay, but nothing like what the vamps could pull in.

I glanced at the large bay windows dotting the sides of the buildings. Lights shone from within, except for two buildings, which seemed to have no windows at all. At first I couldn't figure it out, but then it clicked-vampires. Must be the buildings where most of the night cla.s.ses were held.

"Man, this place has a lot of trees," I said, staring up at thick stands of oak, cedar, and fir that towered around the buildings. That's one thing I'd missed down in LA-the trees.

As I came to Terrance Hall, the center where the gymnasium was located, I looked around for Peyton, but she wasn't anywhere in sight. We were supposed to meet at the front desk, but I thought we might run into each other entering the building. Pushing through the double doors, I jogged over to the gym and stopped at the check-in counter. A young woman was sitting behind the desk, her eyes brilliant topaz, ringed with black. Fae? No . . . werewolf. I could smell her right off. Odd that she'd work here, but at least New Forest Conservatory didn't discriminate in employment.

"I'm looking for Peyton Moon Runner. Has she checked in yet?"

The girl's nose twitched and she gave me a disdainful look, but checked the register without a word. She shook her head. "I'm sorry, I don't see her listed here. Everyone who enters is required to leave their membership card at the desk, so I'd know if she came through."

"Are you sure?" I glanced up at the clock. Seven thirty. Right on time.

"I'm positive," she said, less friendly. "You want to check yourself?"

Shaking my head, I moved over to one of the benches by the large window looking out to the main square. By seven forty, I was growing concerned. I pulled out my cell phone and punched in Peyton's number.

After five rings her voice messaging came on and I left a brief message. By seven fifty I was getting worried, and by eight, I grabbed my duffel bag and headed out. I debated whether to call Anadey or the police, but decided to wait to see what Rhiannon had to say.

I crossed the campus to the Grove, the main eatery at the school, and called Rhiannon on the way. "Listen, can you meet me early? . . . Yeah, the Grove, it is . . . I don't know if anything's wrong but I don't have a good feeling about this."

As I hung up, I entered Brekhart Hall and took the stairs down to the bottom story. The halls were wide and welcoming, if old, and made me wish I'd been able to attend here when I was younger. But those days were long past.

Maybe you can attend a night cla.s.s or two, a community-sponsored cla.s.s, Ulean said. Ulean said.

Maybe . . . but with what's going on, I'm not too sure that's a good idea.

The Grove was a pleasant, airy room. In place of long dining tables stood dozens of square tables, each sitting four to six people. The atmosphere definitely felt more restaurant restaurant than cafeteria. The average age of students seemed in line with what I'd read-early teens to mid-twenties. And all of them felt tingly with energy. than cafeteria. The average age of students seemed in line with what I'd read-early teens to mid-twenties. And all of them felt tingly with energy.

Rhiannon came rushing in just as I picked up my order-a triple-shot mocha and a sausage and cheese breakfast sandwich-and slid into the seat opposite. She was shivering.

"Let me get hot coffee-it's snowing hard." While she hurried up to the counter, I tried Peyton again. And again, no answer. Now I was getting seriously freaked. Peyton didn't strike me as the type to blow off an appointment without calling.

When she returned, Rhia was carrying a white chocolate mocha, a bowl of oatmeal, and two hard-boiled eggs. She slipped out of her coat and took a sip of the steaming mocha, her eyes closing in grat.i.tude.

"Cripes, it's cold out. But this makes me feel almost human." She let out a long sigh. "What's up?"

"What's up is that Peyton didn't show and I can't get her on the phone. I tried calling her several times. Nothing."

Rhiannon's expression dropped. "c.r.a.p. Have you called Anadey?"

"I was waiting for your advice. I don't want to scare her in case it's just car trouble. But Peyton had my phone number and I'm sure she would have called me if it had been that."

"Unless she forgot her phone at home. But then, Anadey would have answered when you called, wouldn't she? Give her a call. She won't be at the diner yet-she usually works afternoons and evenings."

While Rhia warmed herself with her coffee, I phoned Anadey, who answered on the second ring.

"Cicely? Why h.e.l.lo-I thought you were with Peyton."

"She was supposed to meet me this morning for a workout, yes, but . . ." I paused, not knowing exactly how to phrase it.

Just say it outright, child. That's the only way you can. Ulean's calming presence helped and I cleared my throat. Ulean's calming presence helped and I cleared my throat.

"Peyton never showed and she hasn't called. I thought maybe she forgot her cell phone at home and has had car trouble?"

Silence. Then, a soft but audible gasping for air, as if someone had knocked the wind out of her. "No, she had it with her when she left. She was fully intending on meeting you, Cicely. I think I'd better call the police."