Night Veil (3 page)

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Authors: Yasmine Galenorn

BOOK: Night Veil
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The two-story drop was problematic, but a couple of days ago I’d installed a roll-up ladder. I’d been out flying and landed back on the roof, only to discover that somebody in the house had thought I was off shopping and had shut my window and locked it. I’d been stuck out in the snow, naked, too tired to change back into owl form to fly down to the ground and come through the front door. Now, I had the option of climbing down, which was a whole lot easier than shapeshifting when I was exhausted.
I rolled the ladder over the edge and was about to swing onto the rungs when Kaylin stuck his head through the window.
“What are you doing?”
“Goblin dog or something of the sort in the backyard. I was going to check it out.”
“Give me ten secs and I’ll come with you.” He ducked back through the window as I headed down to the ground. A moment later, Kaylin was shimmying down the ladder to land next to me. The dreamwalker was far older than his looks belied, and he was far more skilled in fighting than I was. Having him at my back made me feel much more secure.
“Where are the others?” I hadn’t seen my cousin Rhiannon all day.
“Rhiannon is out shopping, and Leo is on a last-minute run for Geoffrey.”
Leo was a day-runner for the vampires. More specifically, he worked for the Regent, running errands that Geoffrey and his wife couldn’t do during the daylight hours.
“What about Chatter?”
“He’s in the basement, working on charms against the Indigo Court.”
“I thought the house seemed quiet.” I moved forward, cautiously.
The backyard of the Veil House was more like the back forty. Filled with herb gardens, stone circles, and fruit trees, it lay blanketed in a thick layer of snow, and the rising moon set off a bluish tinge to everything around. We stopped, listening to the owl as he hooted again, his warnings echoing through the yard.
We were as quiet as possible, but at one point I stepped on a fallen branch, buried by the snow. It snapped in two. The creature, which had apparently been working its way toward the house, heard us and froze.
This way
, Kaylin mouthed, circling around it.
I followed his lead, edging closer to whatever it was. We managed to slip behind a nearby bush before it could back away. There didn’t appear to be more than one, and we were able to get a good look at it.
The creature was about four feet tall, with a bloated stomach and long bony arms that dragged along the ground. Its head was distorted, elongated and elliptical, with longish ears. The eyes were wide-set and cunning. As it drew back its lips into a grimace, drool dripped from between its needle-sharp teeth.
“Have any idea what it is?” I whispered to Kaylin, wishing he could talk on the slipstream. It was much easier to avoid being overheard when sending messages along with the currents of air.
Kaylin cocked his head, his ponytail shifting slightly. “Goblin. One of Myst’s toadies, no doubt. If we let it live, I guarantee it will bring others. The dark Fae can get through our wards where Myst’s Shadow Hunters can’t, so she’s probably testing how far she can push into our land using her allies.”
“Kill or wound as a message?”
“Go in for the kill. If we just wound it, we’ll have yet another nasty enemy on our hands.”
I gave him a short nod, saving my breath as we burst out of the bushes and poured on the speed. As we caught up to the thing—the goblin was terribly quick—I pulled out my fan, whispered
“Strong Gust,”
and snapped the fan open, waving it twice.
A quick blast of air slammed against us—and the goblin. Startled, the creature skidded to a halt at the edge of the forest, looking confused. Kaylin dove forward, rolling to come up in fighting stance. He kicked it in the chin. As the goblin lurched back, I slipped through on the left side and brought my switchblade down on its arm, stabbing it deeply.
Kaylin fumbled for his shurikens as an icy gust of wind came whistling from the direction of the forest, and a shadow figure loomed at the border dividing the woods from the magical barrier we’d constructed. A glimpse of pale skin with a cerulean cast to it told us all we needed to know. One of the Vampiric Fae.
A Shadow Hunter.
“Shit,” I muttered, steeling myself as the goblin launched itself at me.
The Shadow Hunter raised a bow, his sight intent on Kaylin. He might not be able to set foot on our land, but his weaponry could. I shouted a warning to Kaylin and waved my fan in the direction of the Vampiric Fae, whispering,
“Strong Gust.”
The arrow came zinging our way, but missed by inches.
The goblin landed on me and we both went down, rolling into the snow. I couldn’t use my fan in such close quarters, so I struggled to catch the creature by the throat. I was bigger than the goblin, but not as tough. After thrashing against his leathery skin, I finally managed to get one hand on his neck.
Gnashing his teeth, the goblin lashed at my hand and I pulled away just in time. Even if I didn’t lose any fingers, chances were good he had some nasty bacteria in that mouth and I wanted no part of any infection he might be carrying. We wrestled, me trying to force back his hands as he scrabbled to reach my face. One swipe of those clawlike nails could take out an eye. The stench of the creature was putrid, like a combination of gas and vomit, and his eyes were round and lidless.
I sucked in a deep breath and heaved, pushing with both hands and feet, and managed to roll on top, trapping him between my knees. I squeezed my thighs together, trying to keep the goblin from slipping away from me. At that moment, Kaylin let out a shout and I jerked around. A muscle pulled in my neck.
“Fuck!”
The Shadow Hunter’s second arrow had grazed his arm.
The bolt had penetrated the heavy leather he was wearing but looked like it hadn’t gone too deep. Kaylin yanked the arrow out, tossing it to the ground, and dashed over the boundary line. The Shadow Hunter hadn’t been prepared for him to go on the offensive and went down, Kaylin atop him in the snow, a flurry of fists flying.
I turned my attention back to the goblin. If I let this thing get away, he’d be back, with reinforcements. I flipped the blade on my switchblade and paused. Killing creatures—even our enemies—was still new and did not come easy to me. I sucked in a deep breath.
You can do it. Steady. Aim for the forehead. Goblins are vulnerable in the third eye area.
Ulean flurried around me, trying to keep the snow from blinding my vision.
With a surge in the pit of my stomach, I brought the blade down, wincing as it slid through the goblin’s head. New Forest had become a town of
kill or be killed
. We no longer had the luxury of allowing our enemies to live in peace.
I drove the blade in to the hilt. The goblin screeched, loud and jagged through the twilight, and then fell limp as a fountain of blood stained the snow red, diluting into petal pink. The scent of the creature lingered, joined by that of blood. I withdrew my blade, yanking when it resisted.
Another shout. I looked up to realize that—in my fight—I’d also passed the boundary line and the Shadow Hunter was on the run, aiming directly for me. I froze, but he merely shoved me aside and fell to the side of the goblin’s body, his face pressed against the creature’s wound.
As I backed away, horrified, he lapped at the blood, and then began to transform, his mouth unhinging like that of a snake as he shifted into a doglike monster, his jaws lined with spiny teeth. With ravenous fury, he bit off the head, chewing it, spattering bits of brain matter every which way.
Kaylin brushed his fingers to his lips and slowly edged up on the Shadow Hunter. He brought out a short dagger, serrated and coated in a magical oil. As he plunged the knife into the side of the Vampiric Fae, aiming for the heart, the oil encouraged the blood to flow and the crimson liquid stained the snow still further.
The Shadow Hunter turned, but I was quicker, stabbing his haunch with my blade and dragging it through his tough hide. Then Kaylin and I lightly danced backward, out of reach of those deadly teeth.
A voice echoed from behind us and I turned to see my cousin Rhiannon, panting as she stretched out her hands, a small red charm in the palm of her right. She whispered, just loud enough for us to hear,
“Flame to flame, bolt to bolt, fire to fire, jolt to jolt. Lightning, let me be thy rod.”
All hell broke loose as a bolt of snow lightning came forking out of the gathering clouds, ripping to the ground to shatter the Shadow Hunter into a thousand pieces, as if he were a glass dish smashed on concrete.
As soon as the spell sang out of her body, Rhiannon collapsed and Kaylin raced over to catch her. I stared at the remains of the Shadow Hunter and the goblin. Not much left. Nothing to take home with us, except two more notches on our belt, and the hope that we’d be able to sleep soundly, knowing there was one less member of Myst’s court in the world. One less toady of hers to slip onto our land.
Kaylin shivered. He was bleeding through the rent in his jacket from the arrow. At that moment, I noticed a trickle running down my own shoulder. I glanced down. A puncture wound had penetrated my jacket. I slipped it off to see blood saturating my top. The goblin must have stabbed me with its claw. I hadn’t even noticed.
“We’re growing numb to our pain,” I said as we turned away from the carnage we’d just inflicted.
“We have to,” Kaylin said. “We have to learn to weather the battles because there will be far more to come before things get back to normal. If there even
is
such a thing as ‘normal’ anymore.”
I nodded and looked at Rhiannon. “You saved the day.” The
thank you
was implied.
She slipped her arm around my waist and leaned down to kiss my forehead. “I just got home and saw the commotion from the car. Leo’s still in town and I don’t know where Chatter is.”
“In the basement, working with the charms.”
“Ah. Good. We’ll need them.”
“I guess we’d better get back on our land, before anything else comes out of the woods. We need to tend to our wounds and make sure they don’t get infected.” I wearily turned back to the house.
As we crossed the demarcation line that magically divided the Golden Wood from the Veil House, I couldn’t help but shudder. Like it or not, we were pawns in a war between two powerful enemies—Geoffrey and Myst—and we were doing our best just to stay alive.
Chapter 2
 
“Cicely? Are you ready? It’s time.” Leo’s voice echoed up the stairs. My cousin’s fiancé, and a day-runner for the vampires, he’d gotten home shortly after our encounter with the goblin.
After a long shower to wash away my aches and pains, I’d dressed in a cobalt sweater and black jeans, making sure I was neat and tidy. Geoffrey and Regina owned my services—quite literally—and they demanded that their employees appear before them nicely dressed.
My wolf growled as I ran my hand over the tattoo of the beautiful silverish beast that spread across my body, over my stomach.
“Sshh . . . ” I whispered. “Hush. I know, I know you’re out there hurting, but I can’t do anything about it right now.”
The wolf growled again and I pressed my lips tight, my heart sore. The memory of Grieve’s face, of his hands on my body, his needle-sharp teeth nipping at my skin, swept over me and I dashed my hand across my eyes, careful not to mar the mascara and liner I’d put on. Grieve was lost to the enemy. Myst had claimed him for her own. I was determined to win him back, but in the depths of my heart I was afraid that none of us would come out of this alive.
“Cicely! Get a move on!”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.” I hurried into my favorite boots—a pair of Icon Bombshells—and slung my purse over my shoulder. Polishing a smudge off my left boot, I decided that I was as good as I was going to get, especially after a tussle with a goblin and a Shadow Hunter.
My hair hung free, smooth and ink-black to my shoulders, and I pulled it back into a sleek ponytail, then slipped on a pair of driving gloves and my leather jacket. I slid my moonstone pendant over my neck and secreted it beneath my sweater, then clattered down the stairs.
“Let’s get this show on the road,” I said.
Rhiannon was waiting, freshly showered herself, in a pair of khakis she’d paired with a plaid button-down shirt, and a camel wool coat.
My cousin was as bright as I was dark. Heather, her mother, used to call us Amber and Jet—fire and ice. Her hair was flame red, my own jet-black. We were both twenty-six, both born on the summer solstice—she in the waxing hours, me in the waning. I was short and sturdy, Rhiannon tall and willowy. Opposites, yet we had referred to ourselves as twins when we were little.
Leo looked snazzy as usual. Geoffrey insisted he dress well for work, and most day-runners had extensive—and expensive—wardrobes. Leo was lucky. In his case, Geoffrey financed his expenses. Leo’s tawny hair was a mass of curls barely skimming his neck and he towered over me, more lean than gangly.
“Be careful,” Kaylin said, looking up from his spot on the sofa, where he was reading while petting a half dozen cats who sprawled around him, including Bart, Leo’s Maine Coon familiar. “You go off half-cocked and try to stake Lannan and you’ll be in a world of hurt.”

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