Darklands (19 page)

“I didn’t know she was coming. When I saw her, I thought…I don’t know what I thought. I ran outside and got on my bike because I needed to burn off some energy.”

I tried not to smile at her repeat of her mother’s phrase. It was
one of Gwen’s favorites. “Well, now’s a good chance to start over.”

“She’s not mad?”

“No, she’s not mad. Your grandmother understands a lot more than you think she does.”

I gave Maria a kiss on the cheek, and she went into the garage. I heard her call, “Grandma?” as she opened the kitchen door. With any luck, the truce in my sister’s household would hold for a couple of days.

As I drove back toward Boston, Butterfly stayed quiet in my gut. That was surprising, since I’d made my niece a promise I wasn’t at all sure I could keep. Pryce was out there somewhere, with his kettle full of demons. He’d attacked me twice in two days and would probably try again before the door to the Darklands opened at the full moon.

“Family day” was only a few days away, but it might as well be at the far side of eternity.

GETTING A COUPLE OF HOURS OF SLEEP HERE, A FEW MORE hours there is not an ideal way to let the body rest, but sometimes it’s the best I can do. After a mug of warm milk to help me relax—the “magical sleeping potion” Mom used to give me as a child—I set my alarm, crawled into bed, and did my best to let my mind go blank. It was still afternoon, too early to do battle with Butterfly, so I turned away from guilty or anxious thoughts. I didn’t have to worry, though. I was so tired I sank into immediate, dreamless sleep. Nothing troubled me until the alarm jolted me awake, way sooner than seemed possible.

I hit Snooze and turned over, pulling my comforter closer around me, my body reaching for another few minutes of rest. Just five minutes more…

Kane.

The thought zapped me like a Taser, jolting me awake. I had to meet Kane and explain why I couldn’t be with him this weekend. After that, I’d drive back to Purgatory Chasm and stake out the Devil’s Coffin. This was not going to be a fun night.

No “five minutes more” for me. I threw aside my warm covers and felt around on the floor with my feet until I found my slippers.

In the shower, I realized that I didn’t feel all slime-covered, like I had earlier. Maybe Tina’s technique was working. Or maybe old Butterfly had wised up and slithered back to the demon plane.

I toweled off and pulled on jeans and a sweater. Kane wouldn’t expect me to dress up for our date, but I scraped the mud off my hiking boots as best I could, so I wouldn’t look like I’d tramped through a swamp to get to Creature Comforts.

Juliet was at her usual station on the living room sofa, flipping through television channels with preternatural speed, making me feel a bit seasick. She turned off the TV and tossed the remote onto the coffee table. “I’m bored,” she pouted.

I gestured toward the untouched stack of boxes heaped in the corner. “You could see how that magic egg-scrambler works.”

“Please. I’m not that bored.” She stretched, twisting left, then right. She picked up the remote, looked at it, and put it down again. “But I
am
bored.”

“Must be nice,” I countered. “I could stand a little boredom.”

“That’s because you’re not cooped up in this apartment. It’s beginning to feel a bit too much like the Capulet family tomb. That’s one thing Shakespeare got right: ‘Shall I not, then, be stifled in the vault, / to whose foul mouth no healthsome air breathes in / and there die strangled…?’” She pressed a hand to her forehead and sighed as dramatically as any amateur actress playing her role in a community theater production.

“I take it you’re not going out to interrogate Colwyn tonight?”

“No. Even worse, I’ve been assigned a new pair of Goons. My boys got in trouble because we didn’t come straight back here last night. It wasn’t
really
a detour; Creature Comforts is practically my second home. And I don’t see why it’s against the rules for me to take a tiny little sip of one of my keepers. He was willing; it’s not like I ambushed him.”

“You snacked on one of your Goon Squad guards?”

Juliet licked her lips and smiled.

“The human one, I hope.”

“Brad.” She sighed. “Such a tasty man. Military background, he told me. Did you notice how big and brawny he was? It’s been far too long since I had a meal like that. Mmm. It was like a nice, juicy porterhouse, after all that limp bologna they’ve been delivering.”

I didn’t know how to answer that. It didn’t matter, though,
because Juliet wasn’t finished. “Is there a Craigslist category for Ugly? Because that’s how I think they find my meals.”

“Sorry you’re bored,” I said, “but I can’t entertain you. I’m meeting Kane.”

“What time is it?”

“Almost nine. I have to leave in a few minutes.”

Juliet heaved another sigh. “Over an hour to go before they deliver dinner. And I’m
famished
.” She slumped on the sofa. Then she brightened. “How about you bring me back some take-out?”

“Why do I think you’re not talking about a bucket of fried chicken?”

“You’re going to Creature Comforts. They know me there. I’m sure some little puppy would be happy to follow you home.”

“I’m not coming home.”

“Oh. So you get to spend the night having fun at Kane’s place, and I sit here alone. And hungry. Well, that just sucks. Or doesn’t—and that’s the problem.” She didn’t even crack a smile at her joke, and that showed how unhappy she was. Maybe it was all that Shakespeare, but puns (especially bad ones) are Juliet’s favorite form of humor.

“No fun for me tonight. I’m working.”

“I thought all your clients have canceled.”

“It’s not a paying job. I got a tip on a place where Pryce might show up.” I briefly explained about the Devil’s Coffin. “Did Colwyn ever mention the place?”

She shook her head. “A portal to the Darklands, you say? Colwyn has spent centuries trying to stay
out
of the realm of the dead. If he knows about your Devil’s Coffin, it’s only to avoid it.”

“Well, that’s where I’ll be tonight. I’m going to stake it out.”

“I get it. You’re a fighter, not a lover. You sound like Hotspur in
Henry the Fourth
: ‘This is no world / to play with maumets and to tilt with lips. / We must have bloody noses and cracked crowns!’”

I wasn’t sure what she was saying, but everything from “Hotspur” onward sounded dirty. The only dirty thing I’d be doing tonight would be lying in the mud, and I told her so.

Juliet leaned forward and snatched up the remote. She clicked on the TV and tuned in to the Weather Channel, where the local forecast was just coming on. It didn’t sound good.
Cold…
fog…steady drizzle…chance of precipitation is one hundred percent.

Juliet muted the sound. She was smiling. “Well, now I feel better. It’s good to know there’ll be one person in Massachusetts tonight who’s more miserable than I am.”

CREATURE COMFORTS WAS PACKED. ACTUALLY, “PACKED” WAS an apt description in more ways than one, because the place was brimming over with werewolves. They clustered around tables, sharing pitchers of beer, talking, and laughing. They kept Axel, the bartender, hopping. For years, I’d wondered what species Axel was. At seven feet tall, he had a hooked nose, beady eyes—and what I’d like to call a kind smile, but it was hard to tell behind that bushy beard. Axel, I’d recently learned, was a troll. Instead of a bridge, Creature Comforts was his territory—and nobody messed with Axel in his territory. Partly because he was so damn big and scary looking, and partly because they didn’t want to get banned. Creature Comforts was the most popular bar in the New Combat Zone. Now, Axel moved as fast as I’ve ever seen him, supplying the werewolves with drinks.

For werewolves, the night before a full-moon retreat is like the beginning of a mini-vacation. Even though they’re compelled to go—any werewolf caught outside a retreat during a full moon can legally be shot on sight—werewolves treat retreats like a holiday. And why not? In a way, that’s exactly what they are. Three days away from jobs and societal responsibilities, when they can loose the inner beast—running through the woods, hunting deer, and howling their hearts out at the moon.

Right now, that sounded pretty damn good to me. And I couldn’t go.

“Vicky!”

My name cut through the buzz of conversation.

Kane leaned out of a booth near the back of the room, waving and wearing a big grin. I waved back, thinking he wouldn’t look so happy in about five minutes. My palms were sweating; I wiped them on my jeans and took a deep breath to steady my nerves. Kane was a grown-up. He could handle this. If he couldn’t, then maybe our relationship wasn’t what I thought it was.

I squared my shoulders, plastered a smile on my face, and made my way through the crowd toward the booth.

To find myself face-to-face with Simone Landry.

The smile dropped from my face like a boulder tumbling off a cliff.

Simone slid out from the seat opposite Kane, beaming as though running into me were the most wonderful thing to happen all day.
Hah.
I knew the reason behind her smile—she’d wanted me to see her with my boyfriend.

Kane stood and put his arms around me, brushing his lips against my cheek. I kept my gaze on Simone.
He’s kissing me, not you. Got that?

Simone said, “I guess I’ll be going.” When Kane pulled back from me and nodded, she reached out and grazed his arm with her fingers. Her touch was both light and brief, but it conveyed extraordinary intimacy. It wasn’t a touch, it was a caress, damn it.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Her low, throaty voice thrummed with promise.

“You’ll see both of us,” Kane said. “Remember? I told you Vicky is coming with me.”

Simone’s glance flicked my way, frost chilling her smile. “How nice.” The words held a subtext of challenge. Her face warmed as she turned back to Kane. “I’m looking forward to it.” She sauntered away, hips swaying. Several male werewolves injured their necks whipping their heads around to watch her go.

Bitch.

Of course, that isn’t exactly an insult to a female werewolf.

Kane wasn’t one of the throng drooling over Simone. His eyes were on me, and they shone with pleasure. Damn, I wished I didn’t have to disappoint him.

“Let’s sit down,” he said, scooting over to make room.

I sat across from him. It felt wrong to be getting all snuggly just before I broke the bad news that he’d be spending the weekend alone.

No, I reminded myself, seeing Simone’s cold smile. No, he would most definitely not be alone.

Damn it all to hell.

Deep breath time. “Kane—” I began.

“No, wait.” He reached across the table and took my hand in both of his. So warm. “I want to start things off right tonight.”

“But—” As if by some signal, Axel appeared at our table, bearing a silver champagne bucket. He put it down, and then set
two flutes on the table. Behind him were a couple of werewolves who worked with Kane. They carried trays and were handing out glasses of champagne to everyone in the room.

“Kane—” I tried again.

With a flourish, Axel popped the cork. Everyone cheered as bubbly fizzed from the bottle. Even Axel was smiling as champagne frothed into our glasses.

Kane stood. He pulled me up to stand beside him. One arm around my waist, he raised his glass. I wanted to sink through the floor.

“May I have everyone’s attention?” His courtroom voice rang out.

“Stop,” I hissed, jabbing his ribs with my elbow. He kissed the top of my head.

“Most of you know my girlfriend, Vicky. And everyone who knows her also knows how crazy I am about her.”

Applause rippled around the room. Someone started clinking a champagne glass with their silverware, like we were at a wedding reception, and within seconds the whole room had joined in. Kane pulled me to him and gave me a deep, lingering kiss. The kind that would have melted me if it weren’t happening in the middle of a disaster.

I pulled away. “Kane, don’t.”

Kane smiled and turned back to the crowd. “So I’m pleased—no,
thrilled
—to announce that Vicky has agreed to come with me to Princeton this weekend.” Another round of applause. “Now, those of you who don’t know Vicky may wonder how this is possible. She doesn’t smell like a werewolf. And that’s true.” He pressed his face against my neck and inhaled deeply. “Although she does smell delicious, she’s
not
a werewolf. She’s a shapeshifter. She can become whatever animal she chooses. And this full moon, for my sake, she’s choosing to be a wolf.”

Why, oh why did Kane have to make such a production out of it? It was too late to put the brakes on this train wreck. I managed a feeble half-smile.

The werewolves cheered loudly, clapping and stamping their feet. Howls rose. Then, everyone quieted down as Kane lifted his glass.

“I just wanted to say how honored I am that the woman I love is coming with me on retreat. So please raise your glasses and join me in a toast to Vicky.”

“To Vicky!” everyone shouted. But suddenly it felt like my ears were stuffed with cotton.

Love.
The word echoed in my mind. All I could think of was that he’d said, “The woman I love”—
love
—and there were too many eyes on me for me to even begin processing how I felt about that. Couldn’t he have said it in private first? Or was it just part of the show he was putting on?

Love.
A small word, a tiny word. But one that was way too big for me to deal with right now.

Especially when I was about to blow him off.

Kane tossed back the contents of his glass and kissed me. He tasted like champagne. And guilt. A whole lot of guilt. No, the guilt was all mine. Butterfly would be feasting tonight.

“Oh, and one more thing.” The crowed quieted as Kane’s voice took on an edge. “This weekend, Vicky is under my protection. Anyone who messes with her, anyone at all, answers to me.” He subjected the entire room to a hard stare, one table at a time. Some of the werewolves stared back at him, their features just this side of a scowl. But sooner or later, every single wolf dropped his or her gaze and looked away.