Autumn Whispers (An Otherworld Novel) (31 page)

BOOK: Autumn Whispers (An Otherworld Novel)
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Camille shook her head. “No . . . no . . . we just started to repair our relationship. He can’t be dead . . .”

“Are you sure? Are you sure it’s his statue?” Menolly asked.

Trillian nodded. “Yes, I’m certain. I don’t know where his body is, but if he was in the throne room near the Queen, we’re sure to find some evidence as the recovery efforts continue. The dead . . . they are everywhere. Elqaneve has suffered a serious blow and thousands have died. In the city, in the villages, the devastation is horrendous. Delilah and Camille saw the storm. The aftermath? It’s terrifying how powerful the swath of destruction is.”

I closed my eyes as the room began to phase in and out. And then, for the first time in a while, tension and stress hit me and I found myself shifting. Tabby rose up, taking over for me, and the next thing I knew, I was racing up the stairs, heading for the protection and comfort of my kitty condo. The pain was still there, but it felt more removed, and as I hurried into my playroom, I leaped up to the carpeted perch, crawling into the hidey-hole box.

I snuggled deep into the light fleece blanket that Camille had thought to stuff in there, hiding away from the worry and stress and pain. Closing my eyes, I purred to comfort myself, trying not to think about the people I loved, or the people I had lost. Before I knew it, slumber claimed me.

Chapter 16

I’m not sure how much later it was before Camille and Menolly found me and gently pulled me out of the kitty condo. I woke with a start as Menolly gathered me into her arms, whispering comfort in my ear. After a few minutes, I began to relax and Menolly put me on the floor and I shifted back, slowly, leisurely, so it didn’t hurt. As I stood up, it hit me again. Father’s soul statue was shattered. And that could mean only one thing.

“How long was I . . .” It pissed me off that stress could still send me turning into Tabby. I wanted to be more responsible. What if something like that happened during a fight? But then again, it always seemed to be family stress that set it off.

“About ten minutes, Kitten. Not long.” Menolly sat down on the edge of the sofa. She picked up one of my cat toys and began playing with it. She swung the mouse by the tail, staring at the floor. “So, can we be sure he’s dead? Could his statue have shattered any other way?”

“It could have been accidentally . . . or even deliberately broken, but why would his be and not ours?” Camille shook her head. “He was last seen in the palace, with Queen Asteria. I think we have to accept that he’s dead. I guess . . . I guess we contact Aunt Rythwar and tell her about Father. I’ll do that, tomorrow. I just . . . not tonight.”

I wanted to cry, but mostly I felt numb. So much had gone on that the whole past couple of days seemed like a vivid, painful nightmare. We sat there for ten minutes, twenty, none of us saying a word. Tears were too dangerous to give in to right now. Mourning would come later, when we’d had time to adjust.

“Do you remember how he used to take us to the falls every chance he got? Delilah, you hated those outings, but I loved them. I loved swimming in the pool, and pretending I was a mermaid.” Camille shuddered as she spoke, but her words made us all smile.

“I just hated the water. I loved going places with you guys.” I gave her a wan shrug, but the memory of the sunlight on the grass stood out, a ray of light in a dark, dreary evening.

“I wonder how the pond looks by moonlight. We could go back there . . .” Menolly twirled my toy mouse by the tail.

After another silence, I realized we still had to tell Menolly about our mother’s kin. No time like the present, and maybe, in some way, it would help.

I looked up at her. “This is a hell of a time to bring it up, but . . . speaking of family, Carter told us something a couple days ago but it got shoved to the wayside with what went down in Elqaneve.”

She grimaced. “Oh, what
joyful new
s does he have for us now?”

Camille leaned over her shoulder. “Apparently, our mother has blood kin that live in the area. Long story short: we have two cousins living near here. Alive. They’re in their forties, and they are full FBH.”

Menolly’s jaw dropped. “What? I thought she was an orphan.”

“Apparently not . . .” We told her what Carter had found out.

Camille sighed. “So, the question is, do we want to contact our cousins and tell them about Mother?”

A pause, then I looked up. There was no doubt in either of their eyes. “Of course we do. I don’t think we have a choice.”

“Do you have their number?” Menolly gazed at me, evenly. I realized it was a dare.

“Right here in my notebook.” I pulled out my notebook where I’d written it down. “You want me to call now?” Somehow it seemed wrong to call right after we’d gotten the news about Father’s soul statue, but I had begun to realize that there would never be the right time. Not with our lives. There would always be something going on, always some battle brewing, some friend or loved one missing or dead. That was just the way our existence had become.

Camille handed me the phone and I stared at it for a moment.

“Before I call them, let me contact Tim and give him the account name and URL for Supernatural Matchups so he can start trying to hack into Violet’s account. We need to know who she was hooking up with.”

“Good idea.” Camille leaned back on the sofa, crossing her legs. She sounded weary as she reached down to unbuckle one of her stilettos and toss it on the floor. We all looked worn out, and I had the feeling we’d be a lot worse off before we got better.

I put in the call and five minutes later, Tim had written down the information and promised to do his best to break in. As I hung up, I stared at the phone in my hand. No more procrastination. We’d made the decision to do this thing, and we might as well get it over with. If they didn’t want to talk to us, we’d be no worse off than before. And if they met with us and rejected us, well, we couldn’t make people like us. Blood didn’t automatically garner acceptance; we knew that all too well.

I punched in the first number. I was running on autopilot, but when a woman answered the phone, a rush of hope washed through me.

“Hello, I’m looking for Hester Lou Fredericks. Can you tell me if I’m calling the right number?” I paused.

“This is Hester. Who’s calling, and what can I do for you?” The voice was so friendly and open that it lifted my heart. I wondered, what did she look like? Was there any sort of a family resemblance? I looked most like our mother, and my mind began to whirl in a thousand directions.

“You don’t know me, but my name is Delilah D’Artigo. I don’t know how to explain this, but . . . we’re related. We’re cousins. My sisters and I would like to meet you.” How the hell I thought I could explain this over the phone, I had no clue, but maybe if we met and were face-to-face, the words would come.

A pause. Another moment and then, “Of course. Would you mind if we met in a coffee shop? It’s not that I don’t want to be hospitable but . . .”

“No worries. We understand. Would you and your brother—we know about him, too—be able to meet us this evening?”

It seemed we might as well make the date as soon as we could. I half wanted to get it over with so we didn’t sit wondering how it would go down.

Hester let out what sounded like a snort. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to get hold of Daniel, but I can meet you. There’s a Starbucks on Fiftieth and Lexington. I’ll be wearing a chartreuse shirt. Can you be there in an hour?”

I glanced at the clock. It was six thirty now. “Yes, we’ll meet you in an hour. And Hester . . . thank you.” I handed Camille back the phone. “It’s set. She knows my name so we’d better go through with this.”

We stared at one another for the next minute, then, in a flurry, we beat a rush to make ourselves presentable.

• • •

An hour later we walked into the coffee shop, not sure what to expect. Camille was decked out in her usual—a black bustier over a warm plum skirt and ankle boots with mile-high heels. Menolly was in clean jeans, a turtleneck, and knee-high brown leather boots. And I’d changed into a pair of pair of cargo jeans, a pale green sweater, and a black denim jacket. We were about as good as we were going to get, given the circumstances.

On the way over, Menolly had gotten a call from Derrick that hadn’t helped any. The salvage operations for the Wayfarer had yielded very little. It was going to be a complete rebuild from the foundation up. And he dropped the bomb that a lawyer had come sniffing around but had been close-mouthed.

We were all worn out, and when Camille had suggested going dreglin-hunting after our meeting here, neither Menolly nor I were much in the mood. It was too soon after what had happened.

The coffee shop was buzzing with wired java-junkie Seattleites. We didn’t have coffee back in Otherworld but since we’d come over here, Camille had gotten hooked but good on it, and she drank enough to bring a grown man to his knees. The smell of freshly baked cookies filled the air, and the warm lights and hustle of chatter felt like a welcome retreat.

I glanced around, looking for someone we might recognize. Hester Lou had said she’d be wearing a bright green shirt, and within seconds, my gaze landed on the only chartreuse-ensconced woman in the place.

We knew she was someplace in her forties, but she looked fit. Skinny as a rail, with blond hair like mine tied back in a ponytail, she didn’t have a speck of makeup on that I could see, and she was sitting next to a red-headed woman, also lean and athletic, who had her hand on Hester’s arm. I had the feeling they were more than good friends.

We headed over toward them, and Hester looked up.

“Hi, I’m Delilah, your cousin.” I smiled at her, trying to sound natural.

Her eyes widened as she stood, and she let out a little noise that sounded all-too catlike.

“You have to be kidding. You can’t be . . . I thought you said we were related. If you expect me to believe we’re cousins, forget it. None of my aunts are young enough to have girls your age.”

I glanced at the others as we sat down. “This is going to take some explanation.” We introduced ourselves. Hester’s friend was Sue Ann, and as I’d thought, they were married.

After an awkward pause, Camille spoke up. “Our mother, Maria D’Artigo, was Theresa D’Artigo’s daughter. She was born in 1921, when Theresa was fifteen, and adopted out to a couple because your grandmother was a teenaged unwed mother, and that didn’t go over so well.”

“You are telling me that your mother was seventeen years younger than my mother? You expect me to believe that?” And then Hester stopped, tilting her head as she examined our faces. “
Who are you?
What do you want? You’re not fully human.”

“You’re right on that count. Our mother, Maria, fell in love with a man named Sephreh ob Tanu . . .” As I said Father’s name, I choked, and bit my lip, trying to keep my composure.

“Our father was from Otherworld. He’s one of the Fae. He took Mother home with him and she had the three of us. She was half sister to your mother, Tansy. So that makes us cousins. We’re all over sixty Earthside years old.” Camille gave her a long look, open but not bringing up her glamour. We didn’t want to charm our way into a relationship with Hester Lou. It had to happen naturally.

After a moment, Hester let out a long breath. “So the rumors were right. Grandmother had a baby when she was young. My mother did some genealogical research and something led her to that conclusion. I don’t know what because I never took much of an interest in the subject. But she always maintained that she had a half sister or brother somewhere. Mother didn’t find out until after Grandma died and couldn’t ever confirm her suspicion.”

Sue Ann leaned forward. “Hester, they are of your blood. I can sense it. I can see it—there’s a connection.” She leaned toward me. “You . . . you have the strongest bond with your mother’s spirit.” Shaking her head, she sat back. Sue Ann wore snug jeans and a tank top, and her motorcycle boots caught my eye. Her hair was pretty much the same cut as mine, though she looked older. But she was also FBH, so her years would wear far more on her than ours on us.

Hester glanced at her, then back at us. “Sue Ann is psychic. She’s seldom wrong, and knows her stuff. Let me put in another call to Daniel—he was out when I called earlier.” This time, she got ahold of Daniel. “He’ll be down in twenty minutes. Why don’t we get something to eat? When he gets here you can tell us about your life, and your mother.”

Her demeanor was cautious, but she believed us. We bustled around, found a bigger table, and got food and drinks. At one point, Hester Lou came over to me. She was about my height, and she looked tough, but not worn out. She reached up and brushed my hair out of my eyes.

“It’s so hard to believe that you three are all older than I am. Than Daniel is. We’re close in age, you know. My brother is . . . well . . . he’s trouble at times but I love him.” With a glance over at the table where Menolly sat waiting, she added, “She’s a vampire isn’t she?”

I nodded. “She went through hell on earth. Or Otherworld, as it was. She’s been a vampire for close to fifteen years. Camille’s a witch and priestess. And I’m a werecat. I had a twin, Arial, but she died at birth.” I didn’t know how much to tell her, but figured that it was a safe bet she would find out about our abilities eventually.

“It must be something, having powers like that. Of course, like everybody else, I know about Otherworld and vamps and Weres but . . .” She paused and wiped her eyes. “To know that we have blood kin on the other side of the veil. Your mother and my mother were half sisters and they never knew about one another, and that makes me sad. My mother was so sure there was someone out there. She said she just had a feeling. She looked and looked but could never find concrete evidence, and by then Grandma was dead.”

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