Panther Prowling Page 24

  “You start by just being you.” Shade appeared in the doorway, taking all of us by surprise. He caught my gaze and the stern look slid away. “Okay, let’s talk about this—out in the open. I heard what you said, Camille. As much as it stings, you’re right. What Menolly went through? So much worse. I don’t want anybody thinking I’m comparing my fate to hers. Delilah—don’t you dare do that either. On the other hand, this isn’t going to be easy for me. I’ve got a lifetime of abilities that vanished in the course of a few minutes. I’m going to probably get frustrated at times. I’ll try to work through it, but please, be patient with me while I relearn how to live my life.”

  He eyed the table. “I’m hungry. Feel free to ask me questions while I eat. With so much at stake, I can’t nurse my wounds in private, as much as I’d like to.”

  Smoky clapped him on the back. “You don’t have to. We’ll help you.”

  Shade cast him a grateful smile. “Thank you . . . Lord Iampaatar.” The emphasis was deliberate, that much I could tell, but it was also respectful. Whatever Smoky had said, I had the distinct impression that it had helped the issue rather than hurt it.

  I handed Shade the chicken. “What about your family, love? Did you talk to them?”

  “Yes, I did.” Shade filled his plate, as did Smoky. “My mother was understanding and has promised to come visit us because it will make things easier.”

  Oh joy, that meant that I’d get to meet my future mother-in-law, probably sooner than I wanted to. After Lash’s reaction to me, I wasn’t all that keen on the idea. “And your father?”

  “My father . . .” Shade put down his fork. “My father has never appreciated my stance on his work. He didn’t say much when I told him what happened. But then, he’s never had much to say to me.”

  Shade’s father was on the Jury of the Damned, which in the Netherworld was a council deciding the fates of restless spirits. They were pretty hardcore and ruthless. Shade’s sister, Lash, was following in their father’s footsteps and the two had argued over it when she had come to scope me out.

  I’d never pried, never pushed, because I figured Shade would open up when he was ready, but I finally decided enough was enough. “What are the Stradolan? I’ve kept quiet, waiting for you to tell me, but I think . . . if you no longer can be one of them, can’t you tell us what you’ve lost?”

  That put a stop to the conversation. For a moment, I thought I’d just made things so much worse, and I was ready to creep away from the table, but then Shade pushed back his chair. His expression was stoic, but his voice was soft, as if he were feeling out the situation.

  “All right. I suppose I should have told you sooner—but dragons . . . we take our time. The Stradolan are very private as a race. We mingle . . . they mingle . . . mostly with their own kind and the shadow dragons. How the ability to interbreed came about is beyond my knowledge, and only happens if the female of the pair is the dragon. Hybrids like me? Can never breed with others—”

  “You can’t breed with others? But the Autumn Lord . . .” I stared at him. What did this mean for us? Why had Hi’ran chosen him for me?

  “Oh, no worries there. You will bear the Autumn Lord’s child. I’m his proxy, you know that—his energy will . . . quicken my sperm.” He cleared his throat, glancing around. “This is a weird conversation to be having in public, but I suppose, given the circumstances, it’s not altogether a bad idea. Delilah, when it’s time, the Autumn Lord’s energy will give life to my sperm and change the structure of it. That’s the only way I can ever get you pregnant. He chose me for several reasons, but that is one of the primary factors. I can never give you a child, so there’s never going to be any question of who the father is.”

  I leaned back, stunned. Hi’ran wanted to make sure I had his child . . . but yet he’d let me sleep with Chase before I met Shade. “I’m confused.”

  “You’ll have to ask him about the rest.” Shade gave me a shake of the head. “That’s between you and our master. But back to the Stradolan . . . the nature of the race? Very few outsiders even know of us. We are made of shadow stuff. We walk in physical form, but our very nature is composed of the shadows and twilight, of fog and mist and the in-between spaces. The first Stradolan were offshoots of Elemental energy. In fact, they were spawned by the Autumn Lord himself. The Stradolan were originally the children of the Autumn Lord and Grandmother Coyote, in an experiment gone wrong. The only way the Stradolan become mortal is when they are a half-breed . . . and the only time interbreeding happens is with shadow dragons.”

  The phrase you could have heard a pin drop was an understatement. I sat back, not sure what the hell to say. No wonder the Stradolan were so private—they weren’t mortal, at least not the full-blooded ones. Whether they were actually Immortals was another question, but they weren’t like the Fae or humans or elves.

  Finally, Smoky spoke up. “There isn’t much to say beyond that. We should eat and let Shade have his rest. As to the permanence of the situation, regardless of what they say, I’m not fully convinced. We will just have to wait and see.”

  “Thank you. I’m rather tired of talking about it. The tests they put me through were rather invasive, and right now, I just want to relax, eat, and . . . rest.” Shade picked up his fork.

  I did the same, though my mind was whirling with questions and thoughts. But he needed space now, and even though we had all needed to know what was going down—what affected one of us affected the entire household—it was time to shut up. “Of course, love. Whatever you want.”

  The rest of dinner went quietly, though Camille and I told Shade what we’d found out from Leif. But halfway through the meal, a loud noise sounded—like someone banging across the roof.

  Morio went to go see what it was. When he returned, he was holding part of a tree branch. “The wind’s picking up—ahead of schedule. I suggest we turn on the news and see what they’re saying about the weather.”

  There was a small television in the kitchen, precisely for moments like these. Camille flipped it on and tuned to Channel 2—the local news station. The meteorologist was talking.

  “Winds that were projected to come in around midnight have made an early arrival. What this foretells for the rest of the storm, we’re not certain, but we advise caution on the roads. There have already been reports of two downed trees in North Seattle, and flooding over the road in several parts of Bellevue, Redmond, and even as far south as the city of Olympia. It’s a stormy evening out there, folks, so make sure you have your raingear on and don’t take chances.”

  She turned it off. “Well, storm’s hitting early. By the looks of that weather map, we’re going to be feeling the brunt of it.” Just then, the lights flickered and another noise rattled the roof. “We’d better finish dinner and get the dishes washed up.”

  As we went back to our food, Camille’s cell rang. “Hello? . . . Hi, Iris . . . Really? Okay, thanks for letting us know.” She jumped up. “Iris and Bruce just lost power. Clear the table while we can see. If anybody’s still hungry, you can grab food on a paper plate after we clean the kitchen.”

  We all pitched in and the dishes were done in no time. I grabbed a handful of cookies and looped my arm through Shade’s as we headed into the living room.

  “I love you. You know that, right? It’s going to take a while to process everything that has happened—and everything you told us—but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m nuts over you.” I snuggled close to him and he slipped one arm around my waist, pulling me close.

  “I love you, too, Pussycat. Thank you for being here. For not trying to pretend this didn’t happen, or doesn’t matter. And for being honest.” He paused. “I’m not ready to talk much about this. But when I am, I’ll need you there. I’ll need you to remind me of who I am, because Delilah, I just lost a part of my identity. I don’t know what to think—this is going to take time to process.”


  “I’ll be here. I’ll be ready to listen.” I hung my head. “I can’t pretend to know what you’re going through, but I will do everything I can to make the transition easier. Just don’t walk away from me. Don’t pull back—I can handle whatever you need me to handle.”

  He kissed me then, slow and deep, and I could feel the worry and tension in his body as he pressed against me. “I trust you, my love. I trust you with my heart. I know you won’t break it.”

  We settled onto the sofa as Vanzir and Roz readied to fire up their Xbox. Just then, a gust of wind rattled the windows and the lights vanished. The flames in the fireplace offered us enough light for everyone else to finish entering the room and sit down.

  “Everybody stay where you are except Trillian—can you go check on Hanna and Maggie and bring them in here? I don’t know if Hanna has a candle nearby and she can’t carry both that and Maggie.” Camille moved to the coffee table, and within minutes, a sparkling array of candles lit up the room.

  The effect was magical, and none of us seemed to want to move away from the immediate area. Shade and I curled on one end of the sofa. Camille and Morio curled up on the other end. Smoky took one of the rocking chairs; Vanzir and Roz scooted closer to the fire. When Trillian returned with Hanna and Maggie, he guided her to the overstuffed recliner and gently placed Maggie in her arms, then joined Camille and Morio, sitting on the floor by their feet.

  The storm had picked up, and now the sounds of branches skittered across the roof, thumping loudly. Every time some new thunk hit, it made me jump. As serene as it felt, all of us huddled around the fireplace, the noises were jarring and I kept thinking about the devil-wraith.

  After a moment, Shade must have sensed my tension. “Let’s play a game.”

  I stared at him. “What do you have in mind?”

  He grinned. “I shared a lot of secrets with you tonight. I’m willing to share one more, but only if everybody shares something they never told anyone. It doesn’t have to be earthshaking . . . just a secret you keep to yourself—about yourself. Not about anybody else. It’s a campfire game, I gather, that’s making the rounds among the kids today.”

  “What kids are you talking about?” I shook my head, thinking this could be a dangerous game, but then again . . . we were family. “Okay, I’ll go first. My secret is that . . . Camille, do you remember when you made the pumpkin pie last year and everybody thought Maggie accidentally got hold of it and knocked it off the counter?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Yes? Do I detect that this was not the case?”

  Grinning, I shrugged. “Cats love pumpkin. What can I say? I was in Tabby form and I leapt up on the counter and started licking it, and accidentally knocked it off. Maggie was in the right place at the wrong time.”

  It was the right thing to set the mood. After everybody stopped snickering, we went round. When Vanzir’s turn came, I waited to see if he’d say anything about Aeval, but of course, that wasn’t going to happen. But he did admit to using up Camille’s peppermint body wash.

  Camille had just finished admitting how she had pushed me into the pond when we were kids because I refused to take a bath—it hadn’t been Elan, the bully, but she had done it, and then promptly saved me, but made me go home and take a bath to get the “lake cooties” off—when a loud knock sounded at the door. I started to answer, but Smoky stopped me.

  “Not on such a dark night, when a storm is raging. I’ll go.” He carried one of the candles with him. We waited and within minutes Smoky returned, Tim Winthrop behind him.

  “Tim! What are you doing out tonight?” I jumped up. He was soaked and he looked exhausted. “Is Jason with you?”

  He shook his head. “No, he’s at home and probably worried sick, but my cell ran out of juice and I couldn’t call him. The car broke down about a mile from here. I’ve been walking in the storm. I figured somebody would be home here. I guess you lost the lights? Is your phone still working?”

  I picked up the landline to hear a reassuring dial tone. “Yes. Here, call Jason. Trillian—” I was about to ask him to bring some blankets but he was already on his feet.

  “Blankets and food coming up. I’m afraid it won’t be hot, but will chicken work for you, Tim?”

  Tim nodded. He had gotten a buzz cut, so his curly hair was long gone, and he’d dyed it pale green. Tim had a slender build, but he was fit and lean.

  “Chicken is great. Jason does most of the cooking and he’s been into paleo lately. I’ve lost some weight and feel great, but damn, I miss KFC at times.” He shook his head at my offer of a chair. “Wait till I dry off a little. I’m soaked.”

  Trillian reappeared, but stopped before handing him the blanket. “Dude, you’re going to be chilled if you stay in those clothes. Come on, you’re shorter than I am, but Morio’s clothes might fit you. It’s either too short or too long—your choice.” He led Tim up the stairs. While they were gone, Morio went in the kitchen and fixed Tim a plate, bringing it back and setting it on a TV tray. A few minutes later, Trillian and Tim reappeared. Tim was wearing a pair of Morio’s sweats and a sweatshirt. He was using a towel to scrub his scalp dry.

  “Thanks, that feels better. You said something about food?”

  “Right here. Now call your husband before we do.” Morio handed him the phone. “He must be worried sick.”

  “Maybe. We had an argument. It was stupid, but now I regret it.” He put in the call, and a couple minutes later, he and Jason had made up and Tim was ensconced in a chair, eating.

  “So why were you out this way?”

  “I was trying to reach out to one of the newest Supe Community Action Council members. She’s very reclusive, and she’s having trouble with her landlords. We could help her with anti-discrimination information, and one of the lawyers in the group has offered to take her case pro bono, but she’s nervous about coming into town and I wanted to encourage her to actually take action on this.” He bit into the chicken and, within minutes, had devoured everything on his plate.

  “Who is she?” I was so out of the loop, I had no clue what was going on right now with the council.

  “Feras Dannan. She’s an autumn nymph—a wood nymph connected to trees when they begin to go dormant. She hates being in the city and is extremely shy and suspicious of humans.” He laughed. “Which begs the question of why she even lets me come talk to her, but somehow we’ve managed to find our way to a friendship of sorts. Maybe it’s because I’ve always understood what it’s like to be an outsider, too.”

  “Where does she live? I don’t think we’ve ever really met one of the seasonal Fae.” They were very much connected with the cycles of the year and tended to fade into the background during the other seasons.

  A few had ventured into the open. They were not nearly as quick to out themselves as the more conventional ES Fae, but now—with global warming—they were coming to the forefront and lobbying for immediate action to shift the environmental damage. The government didn’t know what to do with them, so they did what they always did—ignored the issue and hoped it would just go away.

  “She lives on the other side of Grandmother Coyote’s land, actually. They’re neighbors, of a sort. Trouble is, Feras has a landlord who wants her off the land. He says she’s squatting. She’s claiming Fae Sovereign rights. It’s a dicey case. Since she’s connected with the forest, she has a case, but only if she gets herself a top-notch lawyer and learns to cope with being in constant contact with the FBH world. And that, she’s having trouble doing.”

  Oh gods. Fae Sovereign rights were the big issue affecting the human-Fae communities right now, and the Triple Threat were spearheading it. Some of the Fae who were intimately connected with natural areas, as in they would die if their woodlands or deserts or lakes were destroyed, had begun trying to fight back against the developers.

  Years ago, it would have been mysterious things happening to the bu
lldozers and loggers. Now, fueled by support from Talamh Lonrach Oll, their weapons were court orders and demands for equal rights to a quality lifestyle, which included maintenance of their necessary habitat.

  The whole thing was one big ball of wax and would take years to play out. On this issue, the government was walking a tightrope. Paid off by lobbyists who wanted bigger and better shopping malls, but under pressure from Fae Rights groups—along with Supe and Vampire Rights organizations—they hadn’t figured out yet what to do about the issue, which was, namely: Humans no longer were top rung of the food chain.

  “I take it this is a new cause for the Supe Community Action Council?” Which meant a long, tedious string of speeches and debates about what step to take next.

  Tim grinned. “I’m looking forward to it just about as much as you are. Remember, I’m human. But . . . also remember: My kind fought for our rights, too. For the right to marry, for the right to not be fired or beat up or discriminated against.” He tapped his wedding ring. “I won my battle. I’m sure as hell going to help others win theirs.”

  And that was all he had to say.

  “We’re with you, Tim. All the way.”

  He looked around. “By the way, where is Menolly?”

  My phone rang as I was about to answer and I picked up. “Yes?”

  “Hey, Delilah.” Menolly was on the other end of the line.

  “Speak of the devil. Tim’s here. We were just talking about you. What’s up? We’ve lost power, by the way.”

  She sounded irritable as all get-out. “I’m at the Wayfarer. We’ve all lost power—Seattle’s black. The storm is taking a nasty turn. Derrick and Digger are outside, in the dark, closing the wooden shutters. But Tolly and Garth haven’t shown up yet to guard the portal. So I can’t leave here until they get here. I don’t dare leave it unguarded.”

  I didn’t like the thought of her staying there alone. “Can’t Derrick stay with you?”

  “I don’t want to ask him to do that. Digger might, though. I’ll ask him and call you back.” She hung up.