Iron Bones

  IRON BONES

  -A Wild Hunt Novel-

  -Book 3-

  YASMINE GALENORN

  A Nightqueen Enterprises LLC Publication

  Published by Yasmine Galenorn

  PO Box 2037, Kirkland WA 98083-2037

  IRON BONES

  A Wild Hunt Novel

  Copyright © 2018 by Yasmine Galenorn

  First Electronic Printing: 2018 Nightqueen Enterprises LLC

  First Print Edition: 2018 Nightqueen Enterprises

  Cover Art & Design: Ravven

  Art Copyright: Yasmine Galenorn

  Editor: Elizabeth Flynn

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED No part of this book may be reproduced or distributed in any format, be it print or electronic or audio, without permission. Please prevent piracy by purchasing only authorized versions of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, or places is entirely coincidental and not to be construed as representative or an endorsement of any living/ existing group, person, place, or business.

  A Nightqueen Enterprises LLC Publication

  Published in the United States of America

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Table of Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Welcome to Iron Bones

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Cast of Characters

  Playlist

  Biography

  Acknowledgments

  Welcome to the world of the Wild Hunt. This is one of those series that has been haunting me for a while, and now, it’s time to put pen to paper (fingers to keyboard) and let the stories out. And boy, do they want loose. By now, the world has fully taken hold in my subconscious and I’m absolutely loving writing this series.

  Thanks to my usual crew: Samwise, my husband, my assistants Andria and Jennifer—without their help, I’d be swamped. To the women who have helped me find my way in indie, you’re all great, and to the Wild Hunt, which runs deep in my magick, as well as in my fiction.

  Also, my love to my furbles, who keep me happy. And most reverent devotion to Mielikki, Tapio, Ukko, Rauni, and Brighid, my spiritual guardians and guides. And to the spirit of the Wild Hunt, Herne, and Cernunnos, who still rule this world.

  If you wish to reach me, you can find me through my website at Galenorn.com and be sure to sign up for my newsletter to keep updated on all my latest releases!

  Brightest Blessings,

  ~The Painted Panther~

  ~Yasmine Galenorn~

  Welcome to Iron Bones

  Life isn’t easy when you bear the mark of the Silver Stag.

  Light and Dark Fae are both dying, caught in the grip of a plague that threatens to sweep through both courts. The deadly disease is spreading, and no one can pinpoint the origins, nor can an antidote be formulated until the details of the contagion are understood. As Cernunnos sets Ferosyn—his best healer—on the task, he also instructs the Wild Hunt to take on the investigation.

  Now, Ember and Herne must race against time, seeking an answer before both Fae Courts are devastated. Their search leads them deep into the mountains, to a hidden burial site where they discover a terrifying secret that could mean the extinction of the entire Fae race.

  Iron Bones: Book 3 of the Wild Hunt Series

  Chapter 1

  I STARED AT the stack of papers in front of me, my pen hesitating over the last signatory line. This was it. There was no backing out. I had made the promises, handed over the money, gone through all the documents, and this was the final step. Once I signed my name, the house was mine. I glanced over at Angel, whom I had brought along for support, and she gave me an encouraging nod.

  Ember Sabina Kearney.

  I wrote it with a flourish. Might as well embellish things a little. After all, this was an event that celebrations were made for. This was also one of the biggest purchases I’d ever make in my life. My condo had felt like a major step, but buying a house eclipsed it. I had already sold the condo, with the stipulation that we had until August 31 to move out. One month from today and it would be history, a part of my past.

  “Congratulations! You now own a house. I’ll walk this over to records and have this filed within the hour. Everything else has been taken care of.” The escrow agent shuffled the pages, glancing through them, then tapped them into a tidy bundle, clipped them together, and slid them into a file folder.

  Rachel Madison, my real estate agent, was thrilled. “I have your keys for you. The seller was so relieved she said to give them to you right now, given everything has gone so smoothly.”

  She slid them across the table, positively glowing. The house had been an albatross around her neck. It had been on the market for over a year by the time Angel and I had stumbled across it. The place had been a murder house, and nobody had wanted to buy the lovely upgraded home with two large lots, given its grisly history. Until I decided we could make it work.

  I glanced at the escrow agent. “Good to go?”

  She nodded. “It’s not typical form to give you the keys on signing, but I foresee no problem, and that’s the owner’s choice. Enjoy your new home!” She swept out of the room, leaving the three of us sitting there.

  I stared at Angel. “We did it. We have a house.”

  Well, actually, I had a house. I had bought it, but Angel would pay me rent. Right now, the condo was far too small for the two of us. The house was twice the size, with a massive lot, and we had been spending a lot of time mulling over colors and options for the garden. The house itself didn’t need many renovations, but the paint job…well…it might not be the ugly “Bellevue beige” that was so popular around here, but neither did I want every room to be white. And the yard and fence needed major work.

  “We have a month, but I’d like to get started right away. Why don’t we take over supplies tonight so we can start painting tomorrow after work?” I was excited. I wanted in by mid-month because I really didn’t like waiting till the last minute. Plus, we had already packed most of our things and the condo was in total chaos.

  “Sounds good,” Angel said, grinning. “I can feel the excitement bouncing off you like a frog on steroids.” Her smile lit up her face. Angel was one of the few people I knew who could shift the energy of the room without saying a word. She was human, an empath, and she had been my best friend since grade school when she shoved me into a mud puddle. I had dragged her down with me, and after a brief tussle, we had become BFFs. Best friends forever.

  “Well, it’s not every day I take on a half-million dollars of debt.” That wasn’t entirely accurate. I had put down thirty thousand dollars on the house, and once I closed on the condo, I’d be filtering most of that money—about three hundred thousand—into the loan. But still, I was going to end up owing over two hundred thousand dollars on the mortgage.

  “I suggest we celebrate. Why don’t you let me buy dinner?” Angel asked, looping her arm through mine.

  On that note, I pocketed the keys to the house, and we headed out for our favorite fast food joint, Anton’s Fish Shack.

  AN HOUR LATER, full of fish and chips, we stopped at HomeTown Central—a mega store with everything you could hope t
o find for home repair and renovation—and picked up the paint order I had put in the day before. Angel wanted her room to be an early-morning blue, while I wanted mine in forest green and pale lilac. We had decided on a warm apricot for the kitchen, and a watercress green for the living room. I chose the same sky blue Angel wanted for her bedroom to paint the office. We were starting there, and would tackle the rest of the painting after we finished the primary areas. As we carted all the supplies out to our cars, my personal phone rang.

  I glanced at the Caller ID. Crap. My grandfather again. I sent the call to voice mail.

  “Who is it?” Angel shaded her eyes as she watched me ignore the call.

  “Who else? Farthing. My grandfather.”

  She nodded without comment. None was needed. My paternal grandparents had never once contacted me during the time I was growing up. They hadn’t contacted me when my parents had been murdered, nor when I moved in with Angel’s family. They hadn’t reached out when I took on freelance investigating. Only now, after I went to work for the Wild Hunt Agency, had my grandfather decided to get in touch with me. I wasn’t much interested in talking to him and hadn’t bothered to answer any of his calls after we spoke the first time.

  “I’ll meet you at the house.” I gave her a wave as I slipped into my car and eased my way out of the parking lot. For better or worse, I owned a house, and it was time to make it my own.

  WHEN WE GOT to the house, we had a surprise waiting for us. Herne was there, along with the rest of the Wild Hunt Agency. Talia, Yutani—fresh out of his cast—and Viktor were standing beside him. Viktor was holding a big basket stuffed to the gills with sandwiches, pastries, and a couple six-packs of dark stout.

  “We thought we’d help with the painting party,” Herne said with a grin. He held out his arms and I slid into them, meeting his lips with my own.

  He was a tall man, though the word “man” was misleading. Herne was as much of a human as I was. Meaning not at all. He was the son of Cernunnos, Lord of the Forest, and Morgana, Goddess of the Fae and the Sea. And he was my boyfriend. Gorgeous, with wheat-colored hair that hit the back of his shoulder blades, and muscled to just the right degree, Herne and I had been drawn to each other from the start.

  “How did you know we were going to be here?” I asked, resting my head on his shoulder.

  “A little bird told me.” He glanced over at Angel, who grinned. “I know you planned to wait till tomorrow night to start painting, but we decided to make the job a little easier.”

  They stood back, lining the path to the door. Angel and I glanced at each other.

  “This is it. We own a murder house,” I said, a shiver running up my back. I couldn’t tell if it was excitement or nerves, or a combination of the two. But I loved the house, and I was determined to make it into a safe haven.

  I marched up the sidewalk. The path was broken in places with grass and weeds popping through the cracks. Rhododendron bushes crowded in on both sides, overgrown, and at least eight garden spiders had made a tunnel of webs between the massive plants.

  I paused, looking around for a stick. I found a small twig on the ground and used it to bring down the striped arachnids that wove their massive webs between the branches. The orb weavers were fat and all shades of green and brown, and they quickly scuttled off as I broke through the anchor lines of their webs.

  “Sorry, guys, but you need to find a new home,” I said, watching as they hurried away. They’d be back within the hour, though. The critters were nothing if not tenacious. “I have the feeling we’ll need to either keep a spider-stick at either end of the walkway, or cut back the rhododendrons quite a bit. Maybe even take them out.” I didn’t like removing plants and trees willy-nilly, though.

  “You can move the sidewalk to skirt around them,” Yutani said. The coyote shifter glanced around the yard. “Although that would look a little odd, with two rows of rhodies sitting smack in the middle of the yard.”

  I shrugged. “We’ll figure it out.”

  I dashed up the porch. The steps and porch were in good condition, as were spindles of the railing that flanked the sides and front of the porch. I had already ordered a porch swing to be installed. The house was painted a navy blue with white trim, and the paint job was still relatively new. Angel and I both liked the color so we decided to spend our time and money elsewhere.

  The roses were in bloom, crowding the porch on either side of the steps. We needed to cut them back, but for now, their heady scent filled the air as the deep burgundy blooms spread wide. Talia stopped to smell one of them.

  “I love roses,” she said, smiling. “They remind me of someone I knew once. He was a gardener, and he took care of his flowers like most people take care of their children.”

  As I inserted the key into the lock, Herne gave a quick drum roll on the side of the house, and then, the door was open and we spilled through the entryway. I glanced over at Angel.

  “Honey, we’re home.”

  She giggled. “Let’s just hope we don’t have any squatters of the ghostly kind.”

  I nodded, my smile fading. Chances were good we’d have something to contend with. The energy of the house was heavy, but we hadn’t been able to ascertain whether it was because the house was haunted by actual spirits, or simply by the energy trapped in the walls. The murders had been gruesome. Murder-suicides usually were. A freakshow stalker had barged in and axed his ex-girlfriend and her grandmother in the kitchen, then shot himself. We needed to cleanse the energy of the house, but whether or not we would have to call in a professional, we weren’t yet sure. Either way, we had some serious psychic housecleaning to do.

  “Where do we start?” Herne asked. “Put us to work.”

  “Paint first, then we do the psychic cleansing. Why don’t you set the food in the kitchen?” I motioned Viktor off to the right. “Bring all the supplies in to the living room.”

  The others made several trips carrying in the paint and supplies, while Angel and I did a quick run-through of the house to make certain everything was as it should be. I had already called a locksmith, asking him to meet us here, and he showed up as we were carrying in the last of the paint.

  “Please, change all the locks in the house,” I told him. “Even the internal doors. I don’t want the same locks anywhere.”

  As he went to work, we gathered in the living room to sort out the paint cans. Viktor and Angel carried the various colors into their respective rooms while Herne and I spread out tarps. Talia and Yutani began the laborious process of taping off the windows and taking off the switch plates. As I knelt on the floor, evening out the tarp beneath me, I felt something pass by. I thought it was Herne, but when I glanced up, he was standing across the room, focused on taking down one of the light fixtures. I blinked, deciding it must have been my imagination.

  “Hey, we didn’t buy any ladders.” I realized that we had forgotten to add stepladders to our list of necessary supplies.

  “I have two in my truck.” Herne stood, dusting his hands on his jeans. “I’ll get them.” As he headed out of the room, Talia laughed.

  “You really didn’t think that we were going to let you two cope with this on your own? You’re part of our family now.” Her long silver hair was pulled back in a braid, and this was the first time I had ever seen her in jeans. She was wearing a tank top that showed off her well-defined arms. Talia might look like a woman in her early to mid-sixties, but she was still a harpy under the permanent glamour, even if she didn’t have most of her native powers.

  I sat cross-legged on the floor. “You know, even though neither one of the Fae Courts will accept me because of my mixed blood, I consider myself lucky. I have had three families in my life. My parents, then Angel and Mama J., and now—you guys.”

  The sting of being rejected by my own people hurt less and less with each year, which was why the request to meet with my paternal grandparents weighed so heavily on my mind. They were Dark Fae, while
my mother had been Light Fae. My parents had been brutally murdered for daring to fall in love. I had come home after school to find my mother and father butchered, the floors soaked in their blood. I knew my grandparents were behind it, though I never could prove it. If I had been home that day, I probably would have been killed, too. The Fae weren’t squeamish about killing those who crossed their rules. And my very existence was enough reason for them to consider me a rule-breaker.

  Talia put down her roll of painters tape and sat down beside me. In a show of affection, she reached out and took my hand. “Seriously, we’re glad you and Angel came to work for the agency. You two brought a much-needed spark into the company. And you make Herne happy. He’s been a friend of mine for hundreds of years, since long before we brought the Wild Hunt over from the UK. I’ve never seen him seem so at ease.”

  She spoke softly, but I noticed Yutani glance over at us. I still hadn’t fully forgiven him for the backhanded compliment that he had given me over a month before, when he had implied that he was surprised I was good at my job. But I was trying to let it go. He caught my gaze and nodded, a rare smile crossing his lips. He was altogether too serious, more than was good for him.

  “Thanks,” I said, looking around the empty room. I suddenly felt exhausted, and I lay down on the tarp, crossing my hands behind my head and bending my knees. I crossed one leg over the other as I stared at the ceiling.

  “Feeling a twinge of buyer’s remorse?” Yutani asked.

  “Maybe. No. I think it’s actually weariness. The whole process is tiring and right now, I just want one of those beers that you brought, but I feel too tired to get it.” As I spoke, Herne entered the room, carrying both stepladders, one on each shoulder. I stared at him. “Good gods, you’re strong. Anybody ever tell you that?”