Shaded Vision: An Otherworld Novel Read online

  Don’t forget the spirit seal… a little voice whispered inside me, and I focused on the image of the man wearing the sapphire. The seventh spirit seal. I tried to zoom in on his face, to remember every nuance so I could tell the others. The spirit seal was out there and in the possession of someone dangerous. And he knew how to use it.

  “I have to get back.” I turned to Greta. “Am I done here?”

  She nodded. “Walk softly, Delilah. You are coming to a crossroads. As much as I enjoy your company, I’d rather see you still on the living side of the veil than on my side. Get ready, because the train is rolling down the tracks.”

  I sucked in a deep breath, feeling a heavy weight descend on my shoulders. “I know. I can feel it headed my way.” I paused. “Is Arial around?” Even though I wanted to get back to my body so I could wake up and tell the others about the spirit seal, I missed my twin. It had been a while since I’d seen her, at least in a form in which we could talk.

  “Arial is off prowling in her leopard form. She likes to go out and run on the spirit realm, around the grounds of Haseofon.” Greta paused, then touched my shoulder lightly. “Your sister is as overjoyed as you are to be able to meet and speak. At some point, she would like to talk to Camille and Menolly. But it would not work for your sister Menolly. To come to Haseofon, either one must come in spirit—and vampires cannot travel out of their bodies in spirit without being yanked out, and then they are only given a time to walk free—or one must journey in the body, and we cannot have a vampire in the halls. It is forbidden.”

  I frowned. “That doesn’t seem…”

  “Fair? Not all of life is just, or fair, nor understandable. The Master forbids it; therefore we obey. There is no discussion on the issue.”

  “And Arial cannot take human form out of Haseofon?” I already knew the answer but asked anyway.

  Greta shook her head. “I’m sorry, but no. Now, go back to your body, my dear, and attend to your duties.”

  She vanished and I found myself racing back through the streets, back to where I’d started from. As the city skyline began to lighten, I saw a veiled shadow ahead and instinctively dove for it. As I entered the smoke, I fell into my body and sat up with a start, looking around.

  Shade was asleep beside me, but he stirred. As I propped myself up against the pillows and headboard, I thought about what I’d just done. Wylie was dead. Verdict: heart attack. But his soul was gone, forever. I’d sent him to the final death, and there would be no return.

  A fierce sense of pride sprang up. I’d done my duty without flinching. And Greta had been proud of me. She’d also given me valuable information. Now I knew for sure Van and Jaycee were behind this. The bald man wasn’t Telazhar, that I could tell from watching the sorcerer destroy the village. But he was in possession of a spirit seal, which made him terribly dangerous.

  As I climbed out of bed and slipped into a pair of sweatpants and a tank, Shade woke. He blinked, sitting up.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “No. We need to wake the others. I have information and we need to act on it as soon as possible.” I motioned to the door. “I’m heading downstairs. Get dressed and follow. If you could wake Camille and her men, I’ll see if Menolly’s still up. And someone needs to head out to the studio. This is an all-hands-on-deck meeting.”

  Shade slid out from beneath the covers and quietly began to dress as I left the room. I scrambled down the stairs, glancing out the window. Dawn would break in a while, but Menolly would still be up for a couple hours. She wasn’t in the living room or parlor—which meant Nerissa had gone back to her condo for the night instead of staying over—so I opened the bookcase in the kitchen and raced down the stairs to Menolly’s lair.

  “Menolly? Are you down here?”

  “What’s up, Kitten? Is everything okay?” Menolly was sitting on her bed, in a silk bathrobe, reading a book. I glanced at the title. A History of Vampire Mythology. She closed it, dog-earing one of the corners as I peeked around the partition that separated her sleeping area from the sitting area.

  “Yes. No. Just come upstairs, would you? I’ve got some important information on the bombing.”

  She set the book on her nightstand and crossed the room to my side, looping her arm through my elbow. “Did they strike again?”

  “No, not yet. But with what I know, my guess is they’ll continue on until we catch them. They’re out for vengeance.”

  We headed up the stairs and back into the kitchen. Shade was standing there. We’d given up hiding the entrance to Menolly’s lair from family members—everybody had guessed it by now. But we’d insisted on secrecy and had installed a heavy-duty lock on the door, which Smoky had replaced with a reinforced steel one. Now, when Menolly slept, only Camille, I, and Iris could unlock the gate to her world.

  Oh, a dragon could bust through it, or maybe a strong demon, but they’d have to find it first, behind the bookcase. But Tregarts and bloatworgles and most other vampires—they couldn’t get through to her.

  “Camille and the guys are on the way down. I called Rozurial on his cell phone and woke him up. He, Shamas, and Vanzir will be up here in a few minutes. Did you want Hanna?”

  “Hanna is already awake.” Her voice echoed through the kitchen, and we turned to see her standing there. “What’s going on? Is Iris okay?”

  “Iris is fine, Hanna. We just have important info to go over. Could you please make a pot of tea, and maybe find something for us to eat?” I turned to the others. “I’m going to wait till everyone is here. And then we have some decisions to make. And a table to find.”

  “Table?” Camille, blurry eyed, wandered into the room, followed by Smoky, Morio, and Trillian.

  “Yeah…because we’re stuck on the tracks and there’s a train barreling down on us. And Van and Jaycee are right up there at the controls.”

  My nerves were jumping. Somehow, I knew that even Van and Jaycee weren’t the ones with the final say on things. The image of the bald-headed man kept flickering through my mind. Bigger, badder forces were at work, and I feared actually finding out just who they were and what they could do.

  Chapter 11

  Once everyone was gathered around the table, I outlined everything that had happened. I was still high off the catch and felt like I’d had a triple shot of espresso. And I wasn’t a caffeine junkie like Camille.

  “We have to find that table. If we find the table, we have a starting place. I remember seeing it—I distinctly remember seeing it, but I can’t pinpoint where.” I described it to them in detail, hoping it would spark some memories. After all, most of them had been one place or another with me over the past couple years.

  “The bald man—do you have any clue whom it might be? Did he look like a Tregart?” Camille frowned, playing with a cookie. She looked tired and a little worn around the edges. We all did.

  “No, but he was summoning something with the spirit seal. A force, a spell, a ghost, an entity—I’m not sure what.” I took a long drink of tea and sighed. It was too strong. Hanna hadn’t quite mastered the art of brewing the perfect pot yet. “He was wearing the spirit seal, and I get the feeling he was far stronger than Van or Jaycee. And I’m pretty sure the vampire that he and Van and Jaycee were with was Bryan.”

  “I think we can safely assume you’re right about the vampire. Let’s see…you had several visions. One, with Wylie, Van, Jaycee, and the unknown man. The second…Telazhar destroying a village?”

  “No—but I think he was the older man in the next flash I had. I think the person destroying the village was the bald man, a long time ago. I’d swear it was in Otherworld, probably during the Scorching Wars, so it had to be a vision of the past.”

  “Okay, we have a bald-headed sorcerer both in the present and from the past. And Telazhar. Wylie paying off Van and Jaycee and handing them something about the Supe Community Hall. Wylie beating up a woman. Did you recognize her?” Camille was jotting down notes on a steno pad while Morio had commandee
red my laptop and began searching the Internet for something.

  “No. She didn’t seem connected…probably just one more memory that stood out in his mind. I wonder if that was his child. But he referred to the boy as ‘your’ rug rat, so probably not.” The memory infuriated me. “If we could find out her name, maybe we could find out more about him.”

  “Do you think they were in a relationship?” Morio asked. “I could search for Wylie online and see if there’s any mention of him on the Net. Maybe they were married?” His fingers poised above the keyboard.

  “Yeah, why don’t you give that a try.” I loved the Internet. It had provided us with an amazing amount of information over the years. “Google Wylie Smith, and put the name in quotation marks.”

  Morio tapped away at the keys. “Okay, we’ve got a lot of hits. Anything we can narrow it down with?”

  “Try…Seattle. And coyote shifters, again in quotation marks.” I frowned. I’d become an expert on Internet sleuthing.

  Again, Morio quickly typed in the refined search query. He was quick on the keys, far quicker than I was. “How’d you learn to type so well?”

  “I had a job in Japan as a data entry operator for about ten years. That was before Grandmother Coyote summoned me to come here.” He glanced up. Camille gave him a long look, smiling. She’d obviously known this.

  “Really? I thought…” I paused. “I don’t know what I thought.” It occurred to me that we really had very little clue on the backgrounds of some of our loves and allies. “What kind of information did you enter? Was it with a private company or a government?”

  He gave me a feral smile. “I worked for a hospital. I was inputting insurance information for patients. It was a boring job but allowed me to live in the city without being suspect. I moved around every ten to fifteen years so people wouldn’t suspect something odd when I didn’t appear to age.”

  Camille was sitting next to him. She leaned her head against his arm, and he leaned over and kissed the top of her head. “I’m so glad you’re healed up. I was so worried about you.”

  He pushed the laptop over to me. “Here you go, take a look.” And then he draped his arm around Camille’s shoulder and began kissing her, long and deep. I glanced over at Menolly, who was eyeing them, an indescribable look on her face. She didn’t look angry, but her gaze was hungry, almost predatory. I decided to put a stop to any potential altercations.

  “No necking at the table, please. At least not right now.” I scrolled through the search results. Wylie had been part of several forums. The Supe Community Forums, for one, but that wouldn’t do me much good, considering he’d been hiding so many secrets. But then, two references caught my eye.

  The first was FangGirlWannabes.com.

  “Well, well, well…looks like Marion’s sister wasn’t the only one trolling this site.” I scanned the forums until I found the search function. First, I typed in Wylie. I found his profile, but it stated he had no postings on the site—he’d just registered for the forums. He’d registered in October.

  After that, I typed in Trixie’s name—she’d registered in September and had ten pages of postings. A number were simple fan-girl postings to other fang hags, but then I found a series of posts between Trixie and a vampire who went by the user name of Luv-Bites. They started out flirty and grew progressively more sexual. And then—in one of them—the post to Trixie was signed Luv U—Bryan. Another quick search and Luv-Bites’ profile showed that he’d registered in October, the same day as Wylie.

  “Bingo. We have Trixie and Bryan and Wylie on this site. Wylie didn’t make any public postings, but what if he and Bryan were private messaging? They registered on the same day, a month after Trixie joined the site—a couple days after we took out the Koyannis’ warehouse.”

  “Okay. So the Koyanni have been planning revenge since then. That gives them several months to raise havoc that we weren’t aware of. Who knows what else they’ve been up to since then? So, anything else on Wylie?” Camille jotted down a few notes on a steno pad.

  “Looking…looking…here.” Another forum site, this one called, Fire Burn Me. But the bulletin board forum system was locked. A strange feeling ran through me as I stared at the logo.

  “Camille, look at this. Do you recognize this symbol?” I motioned for her to come look.

  She leaned down, staring over my shoulder. “That looks…yes, that’s Sorcerer’s Tongue. Firespeak. Crap, Shamas, get over here. You studied sorcery. You look at it.” She shifted to give him room.

  Shamas gave her a long look as he headed over, holding her gaze. “Let’s get this out in the open. You’re pissed at me for what I did. I accept that. But I was stupid and when I realized that Feris had planned an attack on the Moon Mother’s grove, I did what I could to stop it. I didn’t do this to hurt you, Camille.”

  Camille turned on him, furious. “You should have known! Everybody knows the Scorching Wars were a battle between the moon and the sun, at the heart. We grew up hearing the stories about the sorcerers and the evil they brought with them. You made the choice—you turned your back on your race, your family…on me!”

  Shamas lashed out at her. “I screwed up! I fucked up. I almost died for doing so. Nothing can change the past, but I’m not the idiot I was. I’m not the same man. And I can help you with what I’ve learned.” He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. “Please, forgive me. I can’t stand that you hate me so much.”

  “I don’t hate you—I just hate what you did! Let go of me.”

  Smoky was at their side instantly, and Shamas found himself dangling from the dragon’s grasp. The look on Smoky’s face was terrifying and cruel.

  “You dare to shake my wife?”

  Shamas kicked at him, livid. “She’s my cousin and I loved her before you ever knew she existed!”

  “You really choose to say that to me?” Smoky turned toward the door, Shamas struggling against his grasp. “I will show you what I do to—”

  “Stop.” Camille’s voice was sharp. “He didn’t hurt me. Smoky, you have to let me fight my own battles. I need your help when it comes to the demons and dragons of the world, but not my relatives.”

  Smoky slowly put Shamas down. “I am trying, my wife. But remember: I am a dragon. This is not easy for me.”

  “I know.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned up to kiss him. “You have nothing to worry about. Shamas and I are cousins. Nothing more. What we felt years ago has long changed.”

  I glanced over at Shamas. I was sure that he didn’t feel the same way. He rubbed his neck where his collar had chafed him. After a moment, he cleared his throat and turned to Smoky and Camille.

  “I’m sorry. Camille, I’ve never forgiven myself for not standing up to my family about us. I crumbled. And I ran away because of the pressure.” He hung his head. “Forgive me? Please? Smoky, I would never intrude on your relationship. It’s obvious Camille’s madly in love with the three of you. I just…I just want to be friends. Cousins, again. Without her hating me.”

  The silence in the room was deafening. Shamas looked heartbroken, his cockiness vanished under a wave of despair and loneliness that was tangible—palpable. Camille closed her eyes, breathing deep. Smoky waited for her move. After a moment, she reached out, took Shamas’s hands in hers.

  “I believe you. I forgive you. You’re with us now. You’re helping us. You made a hard choice. We all make mistakes. I should know about that.” She glanced over at Smoky, who gave her a nod and took his seat again.

  Shamas held out his arms and Camille hugged him, kissing his cheek. “Thank you. I promise, I’ll make you proud of me.” He gave her a faint smile.

  “If you’re done with the feel-goods, how about taking a look at this symbol already?” I wasn’t sure why the scene bothered me. Maybe it was that Shamas had never had much use for Menolly or me, but it was obvious he chased after Camille. Or maybe it was that I thought Camille was too quick to forgive, and it probably stemmed from her
being afraid Smoky would mangle our cousin rather from her truly being okay with what was going on. Or maybe…maybe I was just on edge lately and taking it out on everybody around me. We’d all been so stressed, I was surprised we hadn’t gotten in more arguments than we had.

  Shamas blinked, then shrugged and peered at the symbol. “Sorcerer’s Tongue for sure—Firespeak. And that…is the symbol for the Subterranean Realms.”

  “The Sub-Realms.” I bit my lip, staring at the website. “What the fuck is information about the Sub-Realms doing on the Internet?”

  “There’s one way to find out.” Shamas pointed to a link. “Register under a fake name and find out.”

  I shivered. The last thing I wanted to do was hang out in a sorcerers’ chat room. “I don’t know the lingo. What about you?”

  “Me?” Shamas cocked his head. “I could do it. But we need to create a fake e-mail address on one of the webmail servers.”

  “You learn fast. They could still look up our IP address, but not if I call Tim and ask him if we can use his proxy server. He can route us around so that whoever owns Fire Burn Me will never find us. Or find Tim.” That was an absolute must. We needed to make sure Tim didn’t get caught in the crossfire. I jotted down a note to call him first thing in the morning. “For now, we’ll create your e-mail address—how about using webbeemail.com? What do you want?”

  Shamas thought for a moment. “Ixsornosum at webbeemail dot com.” He spelled it out for me. “It’s a sorcerer’s term meaning ‘My desire is my Will.’ It’s a specialized credo that will be recognized by anybody who’s seriously studied sorcery. They’ll know I’m experienced. No one would use that name without the training to back it up. They’d be setting themselves up for retaliation if they were discovered.”

  The look on his face scared me. He noticed my reaction and shrugged. “What can I say? There are harsh penalties in the world of sorcery for those who tread on toes. And pretending to be a sorcerer when you aren’t brings with it harsh repercussions. So does knowing the secret dialects of Firespeak if you haven’t been given the training. Spies have been killed before for trying to infiltrate the inner societies.”