“I do not know how to work a microwave,” Thema said from the door, a hint of panic in her tone. “I do not know what to do with this child. I will fight all of the warriors of the Flayer of Mithrans myself alone, if someone will take thisbébé.”
Cassy began to scream. It was a high-pitched, demanding, furious wail. Thema looked as if she might faint. Or drop the infant. Or toss her like a basketball on fire.
“I’ll take her,” a soft voice said from the side. It was one of Lincoln’s servants, Barbara, or maybe Bridget.Something with aB. She gave a soft smile as Thema all but flung the child at her. “I’m an empty nester for over thirty years, but some things you don’t forget, like how to take care of a little one. Hey there, sweetums. Let’s get your tumtum some mama’s milk, yes, that’s a good baby.”
“Tumtum?” Thema said, before adding what might have been a prayer or a curse word in that liquid African language.
“I’ve called Lincoln to let him know we need Shiloh and to gear up to meet the visitors,” B said as she wended her way to the kitchens, bouncing the baby in her arms.
I shook my head at the utter composure of some blood-servants. Squalling babies, kids out cold, vamps in panic mode, witches on the floor, me in half-form, and... tumtum. “Shaddock trains his scions and chooses his clan members well,” I said. “I’ll be ready. How are we getting to Asheville? Shaddock’s snowmobiles will take hours.”
“Weather is holding,” Eli said. “No reason we can’t take Grégoire’s helo.”
I stopped and turned back to my partner. “You still got the helo up here?”
“It never left Asheville Regional Airport. Pilot will set down on the front lawn inside of thirty.”
That would be dusk for real. Probably true-dark and zero visibility in this weather. “Good work, Ranger man. You”—I pointed at Thema—“gear up. You said you’d fight the warriors of the Flayer of Mithrans? Well, you might get your wish. The Dark Queen commands your presence.” I almost saidLook alive, but that might have been taken as snark by the undead woman.
I raced up the stairs and stripped, shoved aside the new armor Eli had ordered for me, and pulled on the older, scarlet fighting leathers and my double gorgets. I tucked my father’s fragile medicine bag inside my own, mostly empty, much more modern one. Eli had made it for me, telling me it was time to live my life as the Cherokee did, by Full Circle and harmony. I had done nothing with the bag, putting it off because I was dying. I sealed the bags into a pocket in the lining of my beat-up red leather jacket, thinking that I should have done what Elisaid and tried to find some harmony sooner. I sorta kinda needed some harmony right now.
I considered the sword I’d practiced with but never mastered and put it aside. Instead I sheathed the vamp-killer I’d used when I was fighting Titus, the former European emperor. I’d taken his head with the steel-edged, long-bladed, silver-plated knife, one created especially for beheading vampires. I added the curved Mughal ceremonial blade, arranging it across my middle in its scarlet scabbard. These were the same blades I had used when I took the head of the Son of Darkness too. My lucky blades. I snorted with amusement.
No guns. Eli would have enough weaponry to take down a T. rex. No holy water, because it was old and the blessing wore off after time. I shoved seven silver stakes into the sheaths on my left outer thigh and seven ash wood ones into the sheaths on the right. Added all my throwing knives, which included the one I had thrown at the SOD to shut his sorry yapper up, long before I killed him. Three lucky blades.Coolio.
I combed out my hair, yanking on the tangles, and left it loose, like a taunt, an insult.You’re such a poor fighter I didn’t even bother to braid my hair out of the way.That kind of taunt. I rearrangedle breloqueon my head and studied myself in the bathroom mirror. The scarlet nails were the perfect complement to the red leathers. Thought about putting red lipstick on my cat lips. I raised my lips, showing my fangs.
Beast chuffed.Would look like kill. As if Jane ate enemy as prey.
“In that case I should paint Brute’s mouth.”
“I beg your pardon?” Bruiser asked from the bedroom doorway.
I chuckled, liking the vicious sound of my Beast-voice, feeling strong and in control. “Nothing. You look spiffy.”
He was dressed in deep charcoal armor, nearly black, from head to toe. Military-style stuff, except tight, to show off muscle and weapons, and solid-color matte, no camo. He stood beside me, one arm slipping around me, pulling me tight to him, not the gentle caress he gave myhuman shape, but a firm, almost demanding pressure. In combat boots he stood five and a half inches taller than me in my bare paws. I reached up and scruffed my knuckles across his beard. “Don’t get killed.”
“Don’t get killed,” he echoed.
Outside, I heard the sound of the helo. “Who’s guarding the inn?”
“Shaddock’s humans are guarding the children and Alex, who is well trained with firearms, thanks to his sessions on the range. Stop worrying.” He indicated the front lawn. “After you, my Dark Queen.”
***
This was the helo’s third trip into Asheville, which was possible only because the refurbished Bell Huey had new deicer systems on the rotors, couplings, windows, and pretty much every other part. A storm system slid along the mountain range, which always made the weather unpredictable, but Eli had kept a bored former military pilot on retainer to fly at a moment’s notice. The first two runs had brought in equipment and the support team. I had watched them take off from the parking lot at the inn, two of the heavily dressed bodies carrying long cases and gear bags that clanked, probably long-distance rifles or maybe that rocket launcher I had thought about, as well as equipment for accessing empty buildings and getting to the roofs. B and E stuff. I didn’t want to know. Even with the extra seats removed and multiple trips, the refurbished Vietnam-era Bell Huey could only carry a few people, so it wasn’t like we had many fighters on our side.
Kojo, Thema, Shaddock, Eli, and several of Shaddock’s humans with combat experience were already in place—people risking their lives and their undeaths trying to save my friend. For this trip, the seats had been put back in and the passengers were Molly, Big Evan, and me strapped into chairs, with Bruiser crouched down in the cargo section behind the seats. I had forgotten how horrible the vibration was. No ear protectors worked on my not-human-shaped head and the sound was deafening. Beast growled and complained the whole way. I ignored her.
The Huey jostled hard on landing. The empty parkinglot on Hendersonville Road chosen by the pilot as landing site hadn’t been scraped and was still carpeted in many inches of white, the asphalt beneath deceptively lower. Fortunately or otherwise there were so many of us in the helo that we didn’t slam against anything hard enough to injure, though my teeth did clack together. We disembarked from both sides and sped away from the helicopter, through clouds of prop-dusted snow, good cover as we raced into the protection offered by a brick wall. Eli appeared out of the night, shouting over his comms systems. He asked how we were, filed away the answers, filled us in on who was where, and passed out headgear with mics and earbuds.
Mine didn’t fit. We had never tested for my higher-than-human cattish ears. Beast chuffed in amusement as Eli made a fix that included a part of a plastic spoon, some duct tape, and an extra shoelace. The shoestring tied under my chin, hidden in my pelt. It might have been a pretty cool idea except that the spoon was red and the duct tape was some special-order pink stuff. Not badass at all. But it worked and that would have to do. As he worked, the snow stopped and the city lights flickered, throwing us into snow-bright darkness. The earbud crackled. I adjusted the mouthpiece.
“Yellowrock, you copy?” Alex asked into the earbud.
“I copy.” The helo rotored out of sight. The city lights came back on, a dull yellow that slowly brightened.
“Listen up,” Eli said. “Everyone maintain prearranged positions unless fired upon. Thema at my ten. Kojo at six.” That made Kojo the best shot, and me the one who was being protected. A well-armed human woman appeared out of the weather and took her place at Kojo’s side.
