Autumn's Bane Read online

  It was a quiet ride and I didn’t remember much of it. Being slung across the room by the Reaver had not only knocked the wind out of me, but given me a mild concussion. The doctor had said I’d be fine with a good night’s sleep, though for the next few days, I was off of active duty—no more bar brawls, whether it be with a ghost or anybody corporeal. I’d split the stitches if I got physical.

  The traffic was light and we made good time. Herne pulled into the driveway, with Yutani and Viktor behind us. Angel asked them all in, which I was fine with—I wasn’t capable of playing hostess, but it was nice to feel there were people around who could pull my ass out of the fire. I wasn’t sure whether it was the concussion, or the fight, or the energy of the Reaver, but I was feeling incredibly vulnerable.

  “We should probably go home and let you sleep,” Herne said, but I stopped him.

  “Can you stay for a while? You and the guys? I’m nervous.”

  He frowned. “Of course, love. Here, let me settle you in the recliner. The doctor wants you to prop up for the night.”

  Though my concussion was mild, the doctor was worried about me throwing up while I was asleep. So he had recommended sitting up on pillows. It would also keep me from stretching my side too much.

  Herne lowered me to the recliner, then motioned to Viktor. “The girls are beat. Can you make a pot of peppermint tea? It will clear their heads and also relax them. No caffeine.”

  Viktor headed into the kitchen. Angel curled up on the end of the sofa, rubbing her forehead.

  “I have a massive headache,” she said.

  “I’ll bet Raven does too,” I muttered. “Will she be okay? Was Kipa there?”

  “Yes, he’s there. He’ll keep watch over her,” Herne said. “He’s nervous. Her father’s coming to visit next month and you know…meeting the parents. Phasmoria likes Kipa, but she’s not nearly as protective as I imagine Curikan is.”

  “Guess again,” Angel said, smiling at Viktor as he brought in a plate of chocolate chip cookies he had found in the kitchen. He started to hand me one but I shook my head. My side felt like I’d been twisted in knots and I was queasy from the pain.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Phasmoria is incredibly protective of Raven. She just doesn’t show it. I get the impression that Curikan is a lot more passive-aggressive.” Angel winced. “My shoulders feel like they’ve been pummeled.”

  Yutani swung himself behind her. Sitting on the back of the sofa, he straddled her with his legs so he could reach her shoulders and neck. “Let me give you a massage.”

  She glanced up at him, a startled look on her face, but when he began to rub her shoulders, she closed her eyes and sighed.

  “Oh, that feels so good.”

  “I’m good with my hands,” he said, winking at me and laughing.

  I laughed back—it felt good to have something to laugh at. But my side thought otherwise, and it spasmed right where the stitches were.

  “Damn it, first time tonight I’ve had a chance to smile and my side goes and ruins it.” I shook my head. “Herne, do you know if Reavers are summoned or are they just… Do they randomly form from ghosts in an area? What causes them to come into being?”

  “I’m not certain. Raven might be able to tell us, though I don’t think she’d even seen one before this. I’ve dealt with a few throughout my life and they’re usually found in areas of tremendous psychic disturbance. I don’t think they’re actually a creature you can summon, though maybe a necromancer can make one, so to speak.” He was sitting beside me in an armless side chair, stroking my forehead. “Drink your tea—and water. The doctor warned against you getting dehydrated.”

  Viktor stood. “I’ll get her a bottle of ice water and a straw.”

  “The bendy kind?” I asked.

  “Sure, the bendy kind.”

  Tears flickered in my eyes and I realized I was seconds away from crying. Everything felt so hopeless and I felt like crap. I gingerly leaned my head against Herne’s arm and closed my eyes. He leaned down and gave me a gentle kiss on the forehead.

  Angel’s phone dinged and she picked it up, glancing at the screen. “Crap, it’s DeWayne. I thought I’d managed to shake him.”

  DeWayne was DJ’s father. Angel had refused to tell him anything about DJ, even as to whether Mama J. had borne him a son or a daughter. DeWayne was a mooch and out to get his hands on anything he could.

  “What do you want?” Angel wasted no time on pleasantries. She paused, listening, then in a seldom-seen fit of anger said, “Get the fuck out of my life. You aren’t even the father. My mother was having an affair and he’s the father of her child. I know this because she told me.”

  Another pause and then, “You can believe it or not, but I guarantee you, if you try to make waves, I will hit you so hard you’ll end up on your ass in the corner. You’re not welcome in our lives, you have no place in our lives, and you can just go scam off somebody else who doesn’t know what kind of a leech you are.” She hung up, staring at the phone as it rang again. She turned it off and tossed it on the coffee table.

  We were all staring at her, but I was the first to speak. “Is that true, Angel?”

  She frowned, shrugging. “Who cares? Maybe it will shake him off. He’s just so sure that Mama J. left money for DJ and he wants to get his hands on it. I will never let him near my brother. He doesn’t give a flying fuck about his kid—he only wants to steal any inheritance that might have been left.”

  Herne cleared his throat. “Would you like me to look into DeWayne’s background and see if I can find some way to put a stop to him bothering you?”

  Angel frowned. I knew that she hated to ask for help, but DeWayne had been a thorn in her side for far too long now. “Yeah, could you? I’ll email you all the info I know about him.”

  “Fine. We’ll make sure he can’t ever bother DJ…but…do you think DJ might ever want to know his father?” Herne asked the question slowly.

  But Angel just shook her head. “No. DeWayne was trouble when he was with Mama J. and he’s trouble now. He’s a lone wolf—rogue from his pack, I believe. I think they excommunicated him and that usually means a criminal record or something equally as bad.”

  “All right. I’ll get on to it as soon as you send me his info.” He glanced at the clock. “We’d better get Ember to bed. Tomorrow’s a full day, but the two of you don’t have to come in until noon, given what you’ve been through. Ember, if you are still feeling queasy or sick, just call and we’ll bring Ashera over here.”

  He stood. “I’ll get you some blankets.”

  “Thank you. And another pillow?” I paused, then added, “Do you think you could stay the night and sleep on the sofa? I’m feeling so…vulnerable.”

  Angel glanced over at Herne. “I wouldn’t mind if you stayed, either. The Reaver really threw me. I’ve never…been possessed…before.”

  “Of course I’ll stay.” He turned to Yutani and Viktor. “Vik, could you drop Yutani off at home? Thank you both for your help.”

  Yutani slid off of the sofa from behind Angel. “Better?” he asked her.

  She nodded. “Yeah, thank you so much. You really are good with your hands.” She laughed. “I’d better not let Rafé hear me say that. He might not understand.”

  Yutani smirked. “Never hurts to give them something to think about. Anyway, come on, Viktor. Let’s head out. I have a program I’m working on that I need to check. I left it running to test it and I want to see what’s happened, if anything. I’m working on a way to penetrate the Dark Web with absolutely no trace-back. I have the feeling we may need more access to it as the months go by, and I want to put as many layers between it and my computer as possible.”

  They headed toward the door. Herne followed them, locking it behind them.

  Angel groaned as she forced herself to stand. “I’m going to bed. I need a shower, but I’m too exhausted to stand up.”

  “Use my bathroom. I’ve got the walk-in shower wi
th a bench. You can sit down and just let the water stream over you.” It sounded good to me, too, but I was too sore and the stitches too fresh to subject myself to a stream of water.

  Angel waved, hauling herself up the stairs, holding onto the railing like a lifeline. Mr. Rumblebutt looked confused but decided that my lap would make the perfect bed, so he jumped up onto the arm of the recliner.

  “I’ll get you a sleep shirt and some pajama shorts,” Herne said.

  As he vanished up the stairs toward my room, I struggled to sit up and gingerly eased my shirt over my head. My side screamed as I raised my arms, but I managed to undress. By the time Herne returned with my nightclothes, I was sitting in my underwear on the ottoman near the recliner. He rubbed my back with a liniment I had gotten from Ferosyn for aching and bruised muscles, scrupulously avoiding the gash. As he helped me dress, he kissed my shoulders and neck.

  “I love you and I worry so much about you. At least, once you’re married to me, I won’t have to worry about you dying in some godawful fight.” He started to wrap his arms around me but then froze. “Crap, that would have hurt. I’m sorry.”

  I turned around, feeling ragged and sore and ready to cry. “I just need a good night’s sleep,” I said. “The doctor gave me a sleeping draught that works for the Fae. I didn’t want to take it while everybody was here. Can you get me some water?”

  He nodded, darting into the kitchen and returning with a glass of cold water. I poured the potion into the glass and then, after staring at it for a moment, I drank it down. Herne tucked me back into the recliner and I leaned back, but was still upright enough so that I wouldn’t choke if I vomited.

  As Herne bedded down on the sofa, Mr. Rumblebutt rejoined me, curling up on my lap. I closed my eyes, wondering if the ghosts who had once inhabited my house would ever return. This had been a murder house, with a double murder taking place. We had cleansed it and evicted the spirits. But if there were any spooks waiting to pounce, they kept to themselves for the night. I dozed off, thanks to the sleeping potion and Mr. Rumblebutt’s churning motor—he kept up a steady purr-PURR-purr-PURR until I fell asleep. I slept through the entire night, not even waking once.

  By the time I opened my eyes, Herne was gone, and Angel was in the kitchen making breakfast. She must have heard me stir because she peeked into the living room, a smile on her face.

  “You need help?”

  I started to say no, but as I brought the recliner to an upright position and started to stand, I realized I was sore as shit and that my entire body felt like it had been run over by a semi.

  “Yeah, I think I do.”

  She came over and helped me stand. As I straightened, the stitches on my side pulled and I let out a groan. I pulled up my sleep shirt and took a look. My body had already been bruised up from the last go-round, but now my entire side was black and blue. I couldn’t see the stitches—they were under the bandage—but there didn’t appear to be any seeping blood, so that was good.

  “Let’s get this changed and then I’ll help you shower and get dressed.” She wouldn’t take no for an answer, so I let her help me up the stairs and into my bedroom. While she set the shower temperature to warm, I stripped out of my clothes. I felt grungy and grubby and covered with a layer of grime.

  “Can you scrub my back for me? I think I’m going to need some gentle stretching for a couple days to get back to full strength.”

  “A couple of days? Woman, you’re dealing with a row of stitches and a body covered in bruises. I think it’s going to take more than a couple days. Now come on, get in there and sit on that bench.” She made me sit on the shower bench. “What ‘smell-good’ do you want me to use for your back?”

  I grinned. That was Angel’s term for all the various body washes, gels, soaps, and lotions we had accumulated.

  “The wild lilac.” I loved the smell of lilacs. While I also liked the scent of roses, lilac was one of the only floral fragrances I liked. I loved the smell of most flowers, but when they were made into a body wash, so many of the floral scents were pungent and unnatural.

  She poured a stream of the gel onto the bath poof and gently began scrubbing my back for me as I leaned forward, letting the water stream over my head.

  “You’ll get wet,” I said, feeling a little guilty for needing her help.

  “So what? I’m wearing a T-shirt and jeans. I can change.” She finished scrubbing my back and then handed me the poof. “Here. I’ll just sit on the vanity bench outside and wait for you. I don’t want you to get dizzy and fall.”

  I finished washing, lathering up as she pulled out her phone and began reading a book. I washed my hair, too, and when I finally felt clean, I eased my way out of the shower and she draped me in a large bath sheet. I toweled off, wrapping my hair in a smaller towel, and she examined the bandage, easing it off and grimacing.

  “Well, he did a good job on the stitches and it doesn’t look infected but dang, woman, that’s a nasty gash. That piece of wood hit deep, but at least it didn’t hit anything vital.” Angel slathered it with the cream that the doctor had given me the night before, then affixed a new dressing over the top. “There. At least you heal fast. I wish I could say the same.”

  The Fae healed faster than humans. That was yet one more perk we had.

  “I’ll make it down to the office, though it would help if you drove. I’m not going out in the field today, even if I wanted to.” I frowned, staring at the bandage. “I should keep a running tally of all the wounds I’ve gotten since I started working at the agency.”

  “Granted, they’re worse than before, but you already had a number of scars when you and I came into the Wild Hunt.” She followed me into my bedroom, where she handed me a loose gauze sundress. “Here, wear this. It won’t irritate your side. If you put on a close-fitting shirt today, I guarantee you’re going to regret it.”

  I nodded, accepting the dress. Angel fastened my bra for me because reaching around my back hurt, but I couldn’t go without one because my boobs were just too big to leave swinging in the wind, so to speak. As I pulled the dress, an olive gauzy shift—over my head, Angel found a pair of slip-on sandals.

  “You don’t want to chance any residual effects of the concussion unbalancing you, so wear flats today.” She handed them to me, then began to comb my hair, carefully untangling the wet locks. “Sit in front of the mirror and I’ll dry your hair for you.”

  “Yes, mother hen.” But I grinned as I said it. Truth was, Angel was a born nurturer. It struck me that if she and Rafé were ever to have a child, things might be just a little easier on the kid due to the fact that I was setting a precedent with the Fae Courts. Oh, the child would still be regarded as an abomination, but perhaps I could instill enough change so that the bigotry would be lessened by some degree, if only legally.

  I closed my eyes, enjoying the play of warm heat as she dried my hair. It was naturally wavy, long to my mid-back, black with a blue sheen in it. My eyes were deep green and I hoped that wouldn’t change when I went through the ritual. I still wanted to be me, even if I was a becoming a goddess.

  When Angel finished drying my hair, she braided it back for me, tying it off with a pretty bow over the hair tie.

  “There, you’re set. Well, makeup but…you finish your face and I’ll go start breakfast. You call me before you come down the stairs. I don’t want you to chance tripping or losing your—”

  “Balance. I know.” I sighed. “I’m really okay, but yeah, I will call you.” I knew she wanted to help. It made her feel good and Angel was the type of person who needed to feel useful.

  She hugged me gently, then headed out of the room.

  As I sat there, staring at my makeup-devoid face, it hit me once again that I was going to miss these moments. There was something about a platonic close friend—a best friend—that couldn’t be replaced by a spouse. Yes, most people thought their spouse was supposed to be their best friend, but the truth was that I liked having separate categories.
I liked having a best friend who wasn’t my lover, and a lover whom I didn’t share quite everything with. It felt like it made life more bearable, and by not relying on just one person to meet all my needs, I would never feel totally adrift if I lost one of them.

  I glanced over at the sun shining through the window and, trying to shake off gloomy thoughts of death and loss, I quickly finished my makeup and texted Angel that I was on my way down for breakfast.

  Chapter Fourteen

  We made it to work by eleven-thirty, and found everyone there except Rafé, who had a dentist’s appointment. As we stepped out of the elevator, Talia, who was sitting at Angel’s desk, let out a loud whistle.

  “Well, thank you, but you’ve seen me in a dress before,” I said with a grin.

  She snorted. “That wasn’t for you. Herne wanted to know when the two of you arrived.” She straightened some papers, then yielded the chair to Angel. “I fielded several calls already. Mostly just inquiries about how much we charge, things like that. Also, one former client who’s worried that their goblin problem has returned. I took their name and number so that you can return their call and do whatever it is that you do.”

  “Thanks,” Angel said, sitting down and glancing through the notes. “I’ll call them back in a while. Do you know if we’re going to have a morning meeting as usual, considering it’s almost noon?”

  “Herne said no—we’ll be meeting with Ashera at four, and we might as well just use the time until then to get organized and finish up paperwork.” Talia glanced over at me. I was slowly headed down the hallway. My head wasn’t hurting anymore, but I was still a little dizzy and my side burned. “You really got the stuffing beat out of you, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah, I did.”

  Herne popped out of his office at that moment. “Hey, love.” He kissed me quickly, but there was a distracted light in his eyes and he looked concerned about something. “Talia, we’re having the morning meeting after all. I just learned something that is…rather disconcerting.”