Following is a special excerpt from
COURTING DARKNESS
the next book in the Otherworld series by Yasmine
Galenorn
Coming November
2011!
Home.
There it was—waiting
for us. Home, with smoke drifting from the chimney, and clear
sparkling lights surrounding the porch. From the driveway, the
three-story Victorian shimmered like a beacon, both in the physical
and in the astral realms. Flares of energy shot up like sunspots. I
leaned back in the car, smiling. Our home, our haven against the
demons.
A dragon built from
snow guarded the lawn and driveway, rising stark and white out of
the banks piled high around the yard. My herb garden hid under the
creature, nestled under mulch until spring. Winter had claimed the
land, full force, and we were getting hit hard. La Niña held sway
and we were all her toys. At least it wasn’t Loki this time. The
Norse giant had brought the ice and snow with him a year back,
until we’d dispatched his servant.
But as cold as it
was, this was nothing compared to the Northlands, from where I’d
just returned. There, in the high reaches, the winds had raged
starkly through the winter woodland, shaking the timbers and
sending avalanches down the mountainsides. There, life was harsh
and often short, and fire a lifeline. As Smoky, Iris, Rozurial and
I’d struggled through the woods, ranging higher and higher toward
the lair of Howl, the Elemental Wolf Lord of the snow, more than
once I’d thought we’d end up as Popsicles, frozen to the
rocks.
But the trip had been
worth it. We’d helped Iris come to terms with her past and forge a
future for herself. Now, she stood clear and free, able to marry
the man she loved. But she’d been through hell, and now she, like
I, faced a future that promised to swallow her up, to force her
into a position she wasn’t sure she was ready to
shoulder.
As the car slowed to
a stop and Delilah turned off the engine, the weariness of the past
few months welled up in my throat and I blinked away tears. So much
had happened, and yet, so much still lay before us. We were a week
from midwinter, and I was facing initiation into Aeval’s Court,
where I would willingly hand myself over to the Dark
Queen.
As I let out a long
breath and climbed out of the Jeep, a crisp wind swept through the
night and I pulled the elfin cloak tighter around me. I was wearing
the cloak of the Black Beast beneath that, but even with both, they
couldn’t fend off the chill that had lodged itself in my bones and
I wondered if I’d ever manage to get warm again.
“You okay?” Delilah
wrapped her arm around my shoulders. She’d picked us up at
Grandmother Coyote’s portal and now all I wanted was a hot bath, a
soft bed, and a lot of sleep. As Smoky hopped out of her Jeep, then
helped Iris to the ground, Roz slowly hoisted himself out the other
side.
“You’re a good
sister,” I said, leaning against her arm. “I’m just tired. The
journey was harder than I thought it would be. And cold—so
cold.”
“How’d it go? Did
Iris . . .”
I just shook my head.
“It’s her place to speak or not, as she will. She’s with us, and
Vikkommin is dead for good. She survived. But the Northlands are
terrifying. I’d hate to be caught up there.”
We headed toward the
house just as Menolly came racing out, the beads in her braids
clicking in the chill night. She was carrying my
purse.
“Finally! I’ve been
waiting at the door for you. I just got a call from Derrick. We’ve
got problems. Turn right around and head for the cars. Sorry to do
this to you, Camille, but you need to be there.”
“What’s going on?” My
heart sank. I was tired. I didn’t want to fight goblins or
ghosts.
“Demon in the bar,
demanding to talk to you. He’s already mowed down an elf and
Derrick’s got him in a standoff. Iris, you, Roz, and Vanzir stay
with Morio and Maggie. Shade and Trillian are on their way
out—there they are!”
Shade, Delilah’s new
love, and Trillian—my alpha husband—rushed out of the house and
clambered down the steps. Shade was part dragon, part Stradolan—a
shadow walker, and Trillian was Svartan—one of the dark and
charming Fae. They both wore jeans and heavy jackets and Trillian
was carrying a serrated edged sword he’d recently taken up training
with.
“Demon? Asking for
me? How delightful. Not.” I didn’t bother asking if they knew why he
wanted me. I’d find out soon enough, and probably—knowing my
luck—I’d find out the hard way.
Menolly whipped
around, barking out orders. “Delilah—you and Shade take your Jeep.”
She tossed me my purse and keys. “Camille, here you go. You drive
Smoky and Trillian. I’ll go in alone.”
And once again, we
moved to our respective cars, off and running. There was no down
time anymore. Everything had taken on immediacy. With that thought,
I put the Lexus in gear and—as Smoky and Trillian jumped in—hit the
gas and plowed out of the driveway.
We pulled into a
parking place that miraculously opened up as we neared the Wayfarer
Bar & Grill. With a quick nod to the parking goddess, I forced
myself out of the driver’s seat. In the midst of the holiday
season, a space along Seattle’s city streets was insanely hard to
find. But I had luck with finding open spots, and embraced it.
Hell, considering the rest of my track record when it came to
serendipity, the smallest good fortune was cause for
celebration.
As Trillian opened
the door for me, I paused to give him a long kiss. “I missed you,”
I whispered. “I missed you a lot.”
“Tonight, we’ll see
about wiping away those longings.” He brushed my hair back from my
face. “I never spend an hour without thinking about
you.”
Smoky grunted. “Come.
We have a fight to take care of. I assure you, I took pains to make
sure she didn’t miss you or the fox too terribly.” He arched his
eyebrows in a knowing way and two tendrils of his hair rose to wrap
themselves around my shoulders.
I bit back a retort.
My three husbands were constantly zinging each other, each one
striving for the top place in my heart, but I knew that, beneath
all the bluster and insults, they’d developed a healthy respect for
one another. None of them would ever admit it, but I suspected they
even liked each other—at least a little. On more than one occasion
I’d caught Smoky and Trillian playing chess, or Morio helping Smoky
carry in firewood without being asked.
The bar looked lively
but I could hear the commotion from outside. We trailed behind
Menolly as she slammed her way into the bar. She owned the Wayfarer
Bar & Grill, and it was a hangout for Supes from all
backgrounds, as well as the first stop on the journey for a number
of Otherworld visitors. And now, the Wayfarer also sported seven
rooms, a makeshift bed and breakfast.
As we hit the
polished wood floors, I skidded to a halt, catching my breath. The
bar patrons were crowded against the back wall, huddled together,
terrified. Some were trying to edge toward a side exit, but for the
most part, they stuck together in a little clump, afraid to
move.
At the front of the
bar, a demon watched them, his head bobbing back and forth like a
snake. There was no passing for any generic Supe with this
creature. He looked like the full-fledged demon of nightmares—with
smoky skin and coiled horns rising high over his head. His skin,
leathery and taut, shimmered across muscle hard enough to beat a
sledgehammer against. He towered seven feet high on cloven hooves,
and his hands bore long, razor-sharp nails.
And he was standing
over one very dead body.
Derrick, the
werebadger bartender, had wedged himself between the patrons and
the demon, a sawed-off shotgun aimed at the creature, but the gun
had a better chance of tickling the hell spawn than it did of
hurting him.
Menolly let out a
long sigh. “Yeah, that’s one dead elf.”
I nodded. “And one
freaky-assed demon.”
We were too late to
help the elf, but with a little luck, we might be able to prevent
wholesale carnage. We spread out, motioning for Derrick to move to
one side. He waited for Menolly’s okay, then nodded and stepped out
of the way. As I turned toward the demon, I was clueless as to what
we were dealing with—Vanzir could have told us, but it wasn’t fully
safe to have him and Smoky in the same room just yet. Smoky still
didn’t know what had happened between us, and I intended to keep it
that way, at least until I could ensure he wouldn’t go wholesale
whoop-ass on Vanzir.
Menolly snarled.
“What the fuck are you doing in my bar? Get your ass back to the
Sub-Realms, and tell Shadow Wing we said hello.” She strode
forward, but the demon raised his head and his gaze caught her full
on. She let out a squeak and dropped to the floor.
I rushed over to help
her, but before I could get there, she sat up and shook her head,
looking stunned. “What the hell . . .”
Damn, this was not
the time for Morio to be laid up. Our death magic was far more
powerful than my moon magic. Or at least, it tended not to backfire
so much. But he still had a long ways
to go before he was healed, and would be out of commission for
quite some time. The hungry ghosts from our last skirmish had
siphoned a dangerous amount of life force from him and left him
bedridden for now.
“Stand your ground.”
The creature spoke. “I bring you a message from
Trytian.”
Trytian? Holy crap, this thing wasn’t a demon—it
was a daemon! No wonder we hadn’t been
able to tell what it was.
“What does he want?”
I didn’t trust Trytian. Not only was he a daemon, but he’d tried to
blow us up when we were fighting the Bonecrusher. That didn’t make
for neighborly feelings, even if he was fighting against the same
Demon Lord as we were.
“You are the one
named Camille?”
I
nodded.
“I speak with you.
Alone.”
Alone? No way in
freaking hell was I cozying up with this creature
alone.
“Um. Can I just say,
no? Whatever you have to say, you can
say it in front of the others.” I backed up, motioning for Delilah
to move. If he could knock a vampire off her feet with just a look,
I didn’t want to see what he could do with those claws and muscles
against someone who was still alive.
“You wish me to speak
freely in front of all of these patrons? You really want them to
know about Shadow—”
“Stop!” I glanced
back at Menolly. We couldn’t let him talk about Shadow Wing. No one
in the general public knew that Earth was on the verge of a demonic
war. Yet. And we were inclined to keep
it that way to stave off panic.
“You can’t be
serious. He’s already killed one person.” Menolly pointed toward
the dead elf. We’d have hell explaining his death to Queen Asteria.
She’d believe us, but she sure wouldn’t be happy.
“I have to.” I
lowered my voice so nobody but the nearest Supes could hear me. “We
can’t have anything come out in public.”
Smoky glowered. “Not
my wife. Not alone with you. One other must join you and I claim the
right.”
The daemon looked at
him and sniffed. “Dragon. Silver dragon—and a mix at that. The world is full of half-breeds
tonight, it seems. Two halves of a dragon, a dragon-shadow mix.
Three human and Fae girls. Interbreeding weakens the strains, you
know. But you, dragon, you are a lord among your kind. I do not
play toad to royalty. There are reasons you will not be present, my
own skin being one of them.” His voice was harsh, like the vocal
cords had been burnt long ago, and he kept moving his head in a
sinuous dance, as if he couldn’t keep it still.
“Then my wife does
not attend you.”
“Actually, your wife
will attend him.” I glanced at Smoky. “I have to—we can’t discuss these matters in public.” Turning
back to the daemon, I added, “We’ll have our chat alone, but in a
place of my choice.”
It occurred to me
that if we went to the safe room in the basement of the Wayfarer,
the daemon wouldn’t be able to (a) teleport out with me, (b) shoot
magic at me, or (c) bathe me in fire. He could still break me in
half; but if he’d wanted to do that, he already would
have.
I pointed toward the
floor. “Menolly, we need to use the room downstairs.”
She frowned, then her
eyes lit up. “Oh, that room. All right.
Come, follow me. Don’t hurt anybody and don’t destroy anything,
either of you. Daemon, I hold you on pain of death that you won’t
hurt my sister.”
The daemon grunted,
looking suspicious, but followed Menolly, shaking the floor with
each meaty step. I swung in behind. Smoky, Trillian, and Shade
followed, leaving Delilah and the staff to take care of the dead
elf and the frightened patrons.
Downstairs, we came
to the safe room. No magic could enter here, nor creature teleport
in or out. All natural abilities were muted. If a nuclear blast hit
this bar, the safe room would stand.
I gazed at the door,
swallowing my fear. Being shut in a room with the daemon—alone—was
a daunting thought. Not so much fun. Not so much safe. But we
didn’t dare let him broadcast everything he knew.
None of the FBHs—the
full-blooded humans—were aware that the demonic army led by Shadow
Wing was trying to break through the portals to take over Earth and
Otherworld. Only a handful of our friends knew we were on the trail
of the spirit seals, the pieces of a broken artifact that, alone,
could seal off the Subterranean Realms from the rest of the worlds.
We had to gather as many of them as we could before Shadow Wing
did. Not such good news to have flying around as common
knowledge.
As it was, we were in
for a lot of damage control just from the daemon’s appearance in
the bar.
I motioned for him to
enter the room and, with a scowl, he ducked his head so that his
horns cleared the archway. As I followed behind him, Menolly
touched me on the arm.
“One peep and we’re
coming in. Don’t get near him. He can’t work his magic but he could
tear you apart.”
“I know. Believe me,
I know.” And, reluctantly, I shut the door and turned to face the
daemon, crossing my arms. The best defense was to show no fear.
“Trytian has a message for me? Deliver it and then scram, hell
spawn.” I didn’t bother asking for his name—chances were he
wouldn’t give it to me.
The daemon looked
around. “A no-magic zone. Not stupid—not so stupid as some.” A dark
grimace crossed his face. “I would relish a fight with you, girl.
And your friends. But this is not my battle to wage.”
I decided to let that
one pass. No need to press my luck. Letting out a long sigh, I
asked, “What do you want? Why did you kill the elf
upstairs?”
“He sought to
interfere with me. He had to be eliminated.” He said it
nonchalantly. A given: Dare to interfere with
the daemon? Poof—you die.
“Again, I ask: What
do you want?”
“I bear a warning
from Trytian.”
Trytian was, like we
were, attempting to stop the demon lord Shadow Wing, only he was
going about it in a totally different manner. Unfortunately, since
he was a daemon, he had no compunction
about killing us if we happened to get in the way. And he was rude.
Very rude. This warning—whatever it was—meant that he either
anticipated needing our help, or he had suddenly sprouted wings and
become a cute little cherub. And I sincerely doubted the
latter.
“Okay, I’m listening.
What is so important that Trytian sent you over here to stir the
pot? And why you—why not someone who can pass out on the
streets?”
I leaned against the
small bistro table that was pushed against one wall. The room had
signs of occupation—Erin, the daughter Menolly had sired into the
vampiric life, was staying down here during the day, sleeping in
safety. The bed was piled high with comfy blankets, there were
cards and books on the table, and an empty bottle that had held
blood.
“I was the only one
available to send at the moment. Here is Trytian’s message.” He
handed me a letter. “You will understand why I did not want to be
alone with your husband when you read it.”
Oh hell. Something to do with Smoky.
Gingerly, I took the
paper and opened it. The writing was tight, neat, and precisely
printed in red ink—at least I hoped it
was ink, considering the color. As I began to read, I started to
sink toward the floor, but one grunt from the daemon and I
straightened back up again. No dropping my guard, not with a big,
bad daemon in the room. Trytian had no scruples, and I didn’t
expect his cohorts to have any, either.
I glanced up at the
creature. “Wait here, please.” Before he could say a word, I
slipped out of the room and slammed the door, locking it behind me.
He could hammer all he wanted on it, he was locked in there till we
let him out.
“What’s going on? Are
you all right?” Smoky leaned over me, and I could tell he was
looking for signs the daemon had laid hands on me.
“I’m fine . . . at
least physically. He gave me a letter from Trytian. If it’s true,
then you and I are fucked. Just plain and simple.”
“Read it.” Shade was
staring at me, concern creasing his face.
I cleared my throat
and held up the paper.
Rumors are running rife through the grapevine, but I assure you, this is no rumor. A white dragon was recently seen in the halls of the Demon Underground, hanging out with a snow monkey. He is not welcome there but no one dares tell a dragon to leave.Camille: Scuttlebutt is that he’ll be marching in your direction soon. He’s made it known that you and your husband are on his shit list. And frankly, though you and I disagree on the method, all allies against Shadow Wing are valuable at this point, and I may need to call on your aid at some point. So be cautious and don’t get yourself killed.~Trytian
I let out a long
breath. Hyto was in the area. Which meant death was sure to follow.
And dying by dragon was so not my idea of fun.
Smoky’s face drained
of what color it had and his eyes began to swirl. Very softly, very
slowly, he spoke. “My father has just signed his death
warrant.”
“Crap.” Menolly
leaned against the wall. “He’s here, in Seattle, hanging out with
demons and daemons? Not the news we needed right now.”
I fingered the paper.
“What’s a snow monkey? Why would he have an ape with
him?”
“Trytian’s not
talking about an animal,” Shade said. “A snow monkey is slang for a
powerful monk from one of the upper monasteries in the Northlands.
Usually, snow monkeys are rogues—having been kicked out of their
order. They’re most often mad as a hornet, and they don’t give a
damn about anybody but themselves. If one’s taken up with your
father, Smoky, then he’s bound to have been offered a great reward.
They’re dangerous.” He gave me a sad smile. “I’d start watching my
back if I were you.”
“Like we don’t
already.” Sighing, I leaned against the wall, letting them talk
around me.
Mad monks were bad
enough, but it was the thought of Hyto being so close—the thought
of him actually being in the city—that made me want to run home to
Otherworld and hide. But I couldn’t do that, either, having been
exiled from Y’Elestrial by my father.
Smoky’s father hated
me. He hated my breath, my life, my existence. He had nothing to
lose, he’d been cast out of the Dragon Reaches, denied by his wife,
disowned by his children. And he blamed it all on me.
My cell phone rang
and I flipped it open. Caller ID told me it was Chase Johnson. I
punched Talk and answered.
“Camille—I was hoping
you were back. I need you down here. We’ve got a problem in
Tangleroot Park, and I am pretty sure it’s magical in nature. In
fact, so magical that I almost pissed my pants when I saw it. I’ve
got my guys blocking it off for now, but I’m scared to try anything
before you come have a look-see.”
“It? What are you talking about? A monster or
something?”
“I don’t think so.
Honestly? I’ll bet you my paycheck it’s a portal of some
sort.”
My blood ran cold.
Hyto was my big worry right now, but he wasn’t standing here in
front of me. If Chase was right and there was a portal opening up
in Tangleroot Park, we could be in for big trouble of a different
sort. Because the random portals that had started showing
themselves around the city were rogue, and could lead
anywhere.
“We’ll get our asses
over there right now. Meanwhile, don’t let anybody touch it or go
near it.” As I shut my phone, it occurred to me that my life was
quickly coming to resemble a roller coaster, and right now, we felt
at the peak, ready to take a long, dark ride down the
tracks.