Autumn Thorns Page 28

  By the time Aidan appeared in the kitchen, I was almost done. I still didn’t know any more about what was going on—except that Lila had suspected Magda of stirring up the spirits not only in the graveyard but in the forest. She had also expressed concern that as the power structure of the town changed, Magda’s personal influence was growing while the Hounds were actually waning. And she considered Magda a far worse threat than the Hounds. I set aside the book and looked up at my grandfather.

  He was eyeing the espresso machine with a smile. “Your grandmother loved her caffeine.”

  “And you?”

  “Like a fish to water. May I?” He moved to make himself a drink and I nodded. As he deftly handled the machine, I opened the refrigerator.

  “What do you want for breakfast?”

  “Oh, eggs would be good, and toast. I can fend for myself, Kerris. You don’t have to wait on me.”

  But I didn’t mind. Over the past few days I had discovered that I liked having people around me. I had been such a loner in Seattle that I’d forgotten how social I could be. “Not a problem. How many eggs and how do you want them?”

  “Three, scrambled is fine.” He pulled himself a couple of shots and added hot water for an Americano. As he settled himself at the table, he added, “You have yourself a fine man in Bryan. I’m so glad he’s here for you.”

  I cracked the eggs into a dish, whipping them with a fork as the pan heated, and popped a couple of slices of bread into the toaster. “Tell me more about you. I am so new to this. Bryan changes into a wolf. What about you?”

  “My clan? The Corcorans are lion shifters. Kings of the jungle, kings of the shapeshifters.” His eyes twinkled. “I so wish I could have met my girl. Do you remember her, Kerris? Tell me what happened to my daughter.”

  As I finished cooking his eggs, I told him everything I had found out. “Duvall killed her, but I know he had help. And I know who helped him. I just don’t know how to prove it. I also think that he killed my father. The question is, why did he wait so long to kill my mother? If he wanted revenge, wouldn’t it have been worse to do it while she was a baby? That would have destroyed Lila.”

  “That’s a good question. Tell you what, my dear. I’ll go out today and scout around. I promise to keep a low profile. You tell me where you found their bodies and I’ll see what I can find out.”

  “Are you sure it’s safe?” I set the plate of food in front of him. “What if somebody recognizes you?”

  “Nobody will see me. I’m not going to hang around the center of town.” He wouldn’t hear of me coming with him, so I told him where we had discovered Tamil’s grave, and I gave him a spare key.

  “Just be careful, all right? By the way, can I tell Ellia and Ivy you’re here?”

  He gave me a short nod. “Yes, you can at that. I would like to see them again, if they’re willing. I want them to know why I left. Why your grandmother married Duvall. They were always on my side and I wish to thank them.”

  After he ate and had taken off, I decided to try out one of the rituals I had found in Lila’s journal. She had spelled out a rite to prevent the Ankou from entering the house, though she had also upped the ante through having Ivy enchant some of my toys. I spent the rest of the morning drawing the Runes of the Void onto every entrance in the house, following her instructions. As the energy sank into the walls of the house, a deep peace settled around me. She had recommended strengthening them every month, and so I marked my calendar so I wouldn’t forget.

  By then, it was afternoon, so I headed outside to the garden in back. The house sat on a half acre, and the backyard was a tangle of overgrown foliage. I had no clue why Lila had let it go, but after the mist had crept through, I didn’t have any intention of leaving it to rack and ruin. The less clutter, the less chance for something to sneak in.

  I found the pruning shears and a saw and shovel and hoe, and under the drizzly day, I got to work. My breath coalesced into white puffs—it was downright chilly—but I worked away for several hours, taking my nervous energy out on the undergrowth. By the time it was almost four, I had cut away most of the debris and hauled it over to a pile in the corner. The rosebushes had been in need of a good pruning, as had the butterfly bushes; I cut the wisteria back from where it was threatening to wind over to the house and then weeded the flower beds. It would take me several sessions, but by the time I was done for the day, the backyard looked a hundred times better.

  Pausing by the kitchen door, I pulled off my muddy sneakers, thinking that it would have been nice to have a back porch right about now. I shrugged off my jacket and fixed myself another latte. Daphne came in, meowing for petting, and soon I had all three cats perched on the table for a grooming session.

  It was four P.M., and I hadn’t heard from Aidan. I was starting to get worried when his truck pulled into the driveway and he hopped out. He struck a fine figure, all right, and I shook my head, thinking that he was actually my grandfather. It was going to take some getting used to—with Ivy and him.

  And what about Bryan? The thought raced unbidden through my head. What about when you start to age and he doesn’t? What are you going to do then? I tried to shake it away, but a niggle of worry had settled in.

  Aidan rang the bell and I answered. “You have a key, you don’t have to ring the bell.”

  “It’s not my house, and you were home. I wasn’t about to intrude. If your car had been gone and nobody answered, I would have let myself in.” He was soaked, and it was obvious he had been out prowling through the woods.

  “Let me make you some coffee. You look soaked through. Do you want a towel?”

  He held up his hand. “Another Americano, three shots, please. Thank you. And, if you don’t mind, a sandwich or something would do nicely. I’ll get the towel. I know where the bathroom is.”

  By the time I fixed his coffee and made him a thick turkey sandwich, he was back, looking a lot drier. He had changed his clothes and toweled off his hair. He settled in at the table and glanced out the window. It was almost dark, but he squinted through the glass.

  “Looks like you were busy out there.”

  “Yeah, I had to get things in order. Lila loved her gardens. It was hard to see them so overgrown. So . . . find out anything?”

  “Nothing around the graves. But I revisited several old haunts. Lila was right. The energy is shifting. The woods have become far more dangerous. There are creatures roaming out there who have no good in their hearts, and I’m pretty sure that last time I was here, they were sleeping. Magda is waking them.” He took a long sip of his coffee and smacked his lips in a satisfied way. Leaning back, he played with his coffee cup. “What are you planning to do next? I fear for your safety.”

  “Well, I found a ritual to guard against the Ankou. The house should be safe enough from them for now. I am meeting with the Crescent Moon Society tonight. I thought I might ask them for help.”

  “That’s not a bad idea, but I’m going to warn you about something. If they’re the same as they were before I left, they’ll have more than enough internal politics to make things sticky. Mae and Lila used to complain about the bureaucracy even then.”

  “Point noted.” Lovely. Why was it that any group deciding to form itself into an organization seemed to create its own mass of red tape? “I’ll keep my eyes open. You do know that if I tell Ellia and Ivy about you, the CMS is going to find out?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe it’s better that way. But be careful, Kerris. Treachery is sometimes found under the guise of friendship, and people who love you can let you down, even if they don’t mean to.” Glancing out the window, he nodded. “Here comes your guardian. You should get ready for your meeting tonight. Show up neat and composed. You have a better chance of impressing them and not getting pushed to the side than if you show up looking like you just came tromping out of the woods, and your time in the garden has given you
just that look, my dear.” And with that, he insisted on greeting Bryan and making dinner while I went in to take a shower.

  * * *

  The drive to the garage took exactly seven minutes, and as we pulled in, I noticed the cars parked along the side. Bryan hoisted the binders and ledger as I opened the door and slid out. The garage seemed empty, though the lights were on, but a man was sitting inside, waiting for us.

  “Wait here.” He spoke into a cell phone.

  A moment later, Ellia appeared from a door to the back and motioned for us to follow her. We passed into the hallway leading to the office and restroom, but Ellia stopped in front of the janitor’s closet. She held her finger to her lips and opened the door, shooing us into the tiny room. The floor was concrete, with a pink and blue design in the center of it that looked like tile to me. Once we were inside, she closed the door and turned to the back wall, where there was a row of coat hooks. As we watched, she pressed the second one from the left and a panel opened up to a hidden staircase. “Be cautious, there are railings but it’s steep.”

  She led the way down, and we descended the spiral staircase. We must have gone down forty steps before we reached the bottom of the chamber, which opened into a large room with two doors, one on either side. And there, watching us, was Michael Brannon, the owner of the Broom & Thistle. He was holding a long sword, the edge of which glistened with a razor-sharp glint.

  Ellia nodded to him. “We’re here.”

  “You’re late—but you’re the last, so get a move on. I’ll be right behind.” He was brusque, and gave me a look that made me think, as I had in his shop, that he wasn’t all that keen on my presence.

  Ellia swept past him, motioning for us to follow. “Come, we don’t want to disrupt things any more than they already are.”

  She led us to the room on the right side of the chamber. I half expected some secret knock, but she just opened the door and filed through. Bryan and I followed.

  The room was smaller than the main chamber, with a long rectangular conference table in the center. Around the table were several people whom I recognized, and some I didn’t. I knew Oriel, Ellia, and Ivy. I recognized Frank O’Conner from the police station. Michael Brannon, of course. Trevor Riversong was there. But the others, I wasn’t sure of.

  A woman, tall and thin, looking very much the rich-bitch soccer mom, stood up and held out her hand. “Kerris Fellwater. Welcome to the Crescent Moon Society. I’m Starlight Williams, and I’m the president.”

  As she spoke, Ellia took a chair and pointed Bryan and me to the two adjoining. “I’m sorry we’re late.”

  “Let’s get things moving, then. I know we all have busy evenings. Kerris, Bryan, you know Ellia, Oriel, and Ivy. And Michael, Frank, and Trevor said they’ve met you. Everyone else, please introduce yourselves.”

  They went down the row, each giving their name and a brief introduction, starting with Niles Vandyke, the owner of the garage. He was heavily tattooed and gorgeous, just as Peggin had said. Then, Gareth Zimmer, a hulky biker who looked like he could just as easily gut a person as a fish.

  Tonya Pajari was a fortune-teller. Her husband, Nathan, sat beside her—an ex-military man. Clinton Brady, owner of the Fogwhistle Pub, who looked like another old biker. Nadia Freemont, owner of the Mossy Rock Steakhouse. And last, Prague Helgath, owner of the Herb & Essence, who looked so Goth that he could easily pass for a vampire.

  As I gazed at the faces, a few of them began to come back to me. Besides Michael, Starlight and Tonya were around my age, and I vaguely remembered them from high school. Frank and Trevor were a bit younger. Nadia, Niles, Prague, and Nathan were all in their mid- to late forties, I would guess. Oriel and Gareth looked about the same age. And then Clinton, Ivy, and Ellia were in Lila’s age group, though Ivy didn’t look it at all.

  Starlight picked up a judge’s gavel and rapped on the table. “If you had trained under Lila, you’d already be a member. As it is, allow me to explain who we are and what we do.”

  I detected a note of disapproval in that prim little voice of hers and gave her a long, icy look.

  She rapidly cleared her throat. “Yes, well, simply put, the Crescent Moon Society was formed back in 1936, when your great-grandmother first took up her post here as spirit shaman. At first, we were an adjunct group, dedicated to backing her up with whatever she needed, and to counter an organization bent on pushing the spirit shamans out of Whisper Hollow.”

  “Cú Chulainn’s Hounds.”

  “You know of them?” Surprise, and a hint of wariness. And, next to her, I could see the misty form of an older woman, looking a lot like Starlight, shaking her head. The spirit looked vaguely disappointed and turned to me.

  My daughter, the prig. But she’s trustworthy.

  I smiled softly at Starlight’s mother but said nothing, simply inclined my head gently. Moving my gaze back to Starlight herself, I patted the binders. “Yeah, and more about that in a minute. I have some valuable information for you. But first, finish telling me about the Crescent Moon Society.”

  Starlight frowned. I had the feeling she had rehearsed her speech down to the last nuance in tone, and my interruption had thrown her off balance.

  After a pause, she continued. “As more issues came to light, having little to do with the spirits who walk here, we increased our scope in order to take on cases that law enforcement cannot handle. We focus on the other entities that make the forest here their home.”

  I nodded. “That’s pretty much how I figured it worked. Okay, now let me say a few things. You all know that I ran off when I was young. You know why? Duvall was a bastard—a vicious old man. And I have also found out, as you surely know, that he belonged to the Hounds. What you may not know is that he was president of it—or something like that—and that he had a treasure trove of information on them. Which I am prepared to hand over to you as long as I am totally kept in the loop.” I shoved the binders and the ledger forward.

  The collective gasp from the group told me that they in no way expected this. Ellia smiled softly, as did Ivy, who gave me a good-going nod.

  I pushed myself to a standing position. “Furthermore, I refuse to be treated like a traitor because I had to get away from Duvall. For one thing, evidence proves he’s not really my grandfather. And, as Frank has no doubt told you, we just found my mother’s remains—and I’m pretty sure Duvall had a hand in killing her. I also expect that one of his buddies is involved. We also found my father’s remains. I intend to ferret out his killer, as well.”

  The gasp turned into silence as all eyes focused on me.

  Starlight chewed on her lip, then let out a little huff. I could see the wheels turning in her head as she frantically tried to regroup. “We have to walk softly, Kerris. There are too many powers at work here to charge in and send things spinning. I can’t let you go off half-cocked.”

  “Half-cocked? I’ve got Ankou invading my house, a toxic mist tried to kill me, and I’m trying to sort out why Duvall wanted my mother dead. Hell, I wonder why he even wanted to marry Lila in the first place. He drove off Aidan—I know you have heard about him.” I had already decided to keep the fact that he was in my house under my hat. I didn’t like Starlight, and I wasn’t sure how much I liked the Society as a whole. They rubbed me the wrong way.

  Gareth spoke up. “Duvall was a danger to many people, but he’s dead now. I think we can take this on more directly now, Starlight.”

  “Duvall was not the only power player in this town! He is not the only danger. There are other powers at work, far more deadly than he was.” Starlight turned on him, her eyes flashing. A sudden flicker of the lights startled me, but nobody else except Bryan seemed surprised.

  “Maybe so, but we can serve him up as a sacrifice. We can use him to play on them—get them to think that we’re pinning everything on him.” The scarred biker barked out a sarcastic laugh. “Duvall’s
dead. Unless he decides to rise—and Kerris here can take care of that. We can make him a scapegoat and throw them off track about how much we know.”

  “What the hell are you all talking about?” I was getting pissed off by now as I realized with growing apprehension that the Crescent Moon Society was determined to play the puppet master. “My grandfather and his cronies murdered my mother and father. I want to know why, and I want them brought to justice.”

  Oriel cleared her throat. “We can answer the why—or at least I think we can.”

  I stayed standing, so tense I could barely breathe. Had Oriel just admitted that they knew Duvall had murdered my mother and yet done nothing about it? “Are you saying that you know he killed my mother? That you’ve known she was dead all along and you didn’t tell me anything?”

  “No.” Oriel gave me that cat-and-canary smile again. “I’m saying we suspected she was dead. We knew Duvall had something to do with her disappearance, but we didn’t know he had actually killed her. But . . . I suppose you might as well know the truth before you go opening a can of worms that we can’t slam the lid back on.”

  Slowly, I sat back down. Bryan reached for my hand and squeezed it. He was just as angry as I was—I could feel his emotions as clearly as I could feel my own. “Then tell me. Now.”

  Without waiting for a go-ahead, Oriel let out a long breath. “Your grandfather murdered your mother because he believed a prophecy that Magda told him. She had a vision that together, Lila, Tamil, and you would have the force to bring down Cú Chulainn’s Hounds. He believed it would take all three of you, so he removed Tamil from the equation, hoping to nix the chance.”

  I gasped. “When did he find this out? And how?”

  “He believed it before he ever married your grandmother. We know this for a fact—one of the Hounds told us after he managed to extricate himself from the group.”