Crimson Veil Page 6


He looked harried, and tired, too. But as usual, the dragon was spotless. “Love, my sweet, I am so sorry about your father.” He looked toward the rest of us. “You, too, Menolly and Delilah. If there’s anything I can do, just ask. I’m here. We are family.”


“Can you bring our father’s body home to us?” Camille whispered. But we could all hear her plainly. All Fae—half-breed or not—had excellent hearing.


Smoky looked at Trenyth, who nodded. “Go ahead. One day won’t make a difference. Not with the chaos that is rampaging through the land.”


As Trenyth moved out of the way, Smoky leaned toward the mirror, staring directly at Camille. “We are still looking for Ben and Venus. So far, we’ve found no signs of them. We’ll bring your father home, then return to continue the search.”


Camille bit her lip. “Can you really spare the time to do this for us?”


“For you, I would spare the world.”


And just like that, the big galoot of a dragon once again proved himself worthy of my sister’s love. I liked Smoky, but he could be a handful and I had no clue how he managed to keep that tremendous ego under lock and key when dealing with Camille’s other two husbands, but somehow, he did. And for that, I gave him props.


Trenyth retook the seat in front of the mirror. “Do not worry, girls. If they haven’t been able to find Benjamin and Venus the Moon Child yet, another day will not matter. Perhaps foolish words, but in this turmoil, there has to be some measure of compassion. I know it’s meager comfort, but you need your father’s body with you.”


Smoky nodded. “Trillian, Rozurial, and I will come home for the night and return here tomorrow. We’ll be there soon. I can bring your father’s body through the Ionyc Seas, and Roz can bring Trillian.”


With that, the fog filled the mirror again.


“Well, that’s that.” I leaned back. “There is no doubt or hope left.”


The whole thing was surreal. Even though our father’s soul statue had been shattered, we still had held on to hope—ill-placed as it was—that perhaps it had been a mistake. That he had survived.


I had to admit that even I had clung to that thin thread, and I was by far the most prosaic and pessimistic of the three of us. Maybe… just maybe, we thought… something else had broken his soul statue besides his death. Maybe a rat or bird or cat had knocked it over. Now that hope was dashed.


Delilah wiped her eyes. “I didn’t want to believe it, but… really… we all knew.” With an inner strength that surprised me, she shook off her tears. “At least we know for sure, and now we can move on.”


“I shall make another batch of cookies and also some sandwiches and soup and bread. The men are bound to be hungry and I doubt if they’ve had many a good meal the past day or so.”


Hanna turned and marched back to the kitchen. A strong woman, she had been through her own losses, and she’d helped Camille escape when Smoky’s father kidnapped and tortured her. Her answer to sorrow was to fortify the mourners with good food, warm clothing, and a soft bed.


Vanzir frowned. “I’m not good at this, but I’m sorry.” He shifted, his eyes whirling with a kaleidoscope of color. They never pinned down to just one—in fact, there was no word for the color of his eyes. It seemed to exist outside the usual spectrum, but still it was there, in the shifting haze that roiled through his eyes. Vanzir could never pass for human, that was sure, even though he took the form. And his natural weapons would give a hentai monster pause.


I gave him a half smile as Camille and Delilah wearily pushed to their feet. “It’s okay. Don’t sweat it.”


Camille turned to Delilah and me. “I thought… I know it’s not usual, but with the war and the fear that Y’Elestrial will be next, what do you think about cremating Father’s body and keeping the ashes for when we can return them to the family crypt without worry?”


Even though she didn’t say it, I knew she was thinking about Mother—and whether our house and land would be standing. Mother was laid to rest in the family shrine. What if the storm destroyed our home? What if our past went up in flames?


“I think that’s a good idea,” I said, forcing a smile. “We’ll have an interment ceremony after the danger has been quelled.”


“If they can stop it.” Delilah turned a bleak look on me. “I’m not feeling very hopeful right now.”


“No, but we can’t let that stop us.” I wasn’t sure what to do next—grief has a way of freezing a person, and I could tell both Camille and Delilah were on the edge of a meltdown. While I’d managed to escape the destruction of Elqaneve without witnessing the worst of it, they’d been forced to journey through the carnage as it was happening and shell shock had set in.


There was a noise behind us, and then, as we turned around, Smoky appeared, a shrouded figure in his arms. Rozurial appeared next, his arm around Trillian. They had come through the Ionyc Seas, silently, without so much as a whisper. As we stood, watching, Camille caught her breath and Delilah gasped. Me? I just stared. I had no breath to catch, no pulse to race… but still, a quiver in my heart told me that I hadn’t fully been prepared for this.


Vanzir moved forward, pushed himself between us and the silent figure of our father. “Here, let’s take him to the studio. We can… he can… we can use one of the bunks for the night until arrangements can be made.”


“I want to see.” Camille stepped forward. “I have to know—for myself.”


“You don’t want to see him, love. He’s been dead for a couple of days, and while the conditions were dry and cool… I don’t think you should witness the damage done. Remember him the way you last saw him.” Smoky pressed his lips against her forehead. “Will you accept my word that it’s him?”


She glanced at me. I nodded. There was no use in going through that—Smoky would never lie to us. At least not to her.


“Very well.” She looked at the shrouded figure, and let out a choked cry. “Now that he’s here, now… it’s real.”


Delilah wrapped her arms around Camille. “Let’s get some tea.” And for one of the first times in her life, except when she’d been attacked by Hyto, Camille’s shoulders slumped and she let Delilah lead her away.


I turned back to Smoky and the guys. “Thank you for bringing Father home to us. I didn’t have a good relationship with him, not after I was turned. But this… I never thought he’d go like this.”


“Death is always unexpected, even when you know it’s coming.” Smoky lifted the body and Vanzir went to open the door for him. I watched them exit.


“So this is it.” I stared at their backs as they disappeared.


Nerissa moved in and wrapped her arms around me, cradling me. “I love you, Menolly. Tell me what I can do. Tell me what you need.” Her voice was gentle against my ears, and her lips tickled my skin.


I closed my eyes, relaxed into her embrace. “First, I have something to do. Then… I need to talk to Amber and Luke. I haven’t really had a chance yet. And after…” I turned to her. “After, I want you. Need you.”


She let go. She wasn’t one of those clingy spouses who had to know everything I was thinking or doing. Lately we’d been on the scritchy side, but for the most part, I thought we understood each other.


“I’ve got some reading to catch up on. Just let me know when you’re ready. I’m all yours.” And with that promise, she vanished into the parlor and closed the door behind her.


I looked over at Roz and Trillian. Both men looked shaken and tired. “Has it been very bad?”


“Worse than you can imagine. Or maybe not. Delilah and Camille came through hell. As bad as the aftermath is, the storm must have been a fury beyond any I’ve ever dreamed of.” Roz’s usual good cheer had vanished, and he slumped down on the sofa. The incubus had seen far more than his share of death and dying over the centuries he had been alive, and still he looked shaken to the core.


“The dead are everywhere. The goblins are behind every tree, every bush. The smell of blood is so thick in some villages that it overpowers everything else…” His words drifted off, and he stared at his hands. “I thought it was bad when Dredge killed my family. But that was nothing compared to what we’ve witnessed.”


Trillian clapped him on the shoulder. “Bad it is, and worse still, there’s nothing we can do to help. The destruction is of such a magnitude that we give our food to the children we find sitting on the side of the road. They are everywhere. No place to go, no parents, no shoes or clean clothes or water. And no one to look out for them.” His face was bleak, and for the first time, I began to see beneath the arrogant exterior. I knew there was more to him than met the eye—that had become clear over the past couple of years—but now… now it was visible.


“What… what can we do?” The thought of the devastation was enough to overwhelm anybody.


Trillian sighed. “Make damned sure Earthside is protected. The three of you and our ragtag army here, we’re all that stands between the far worse carnage that would happen should Shadow Wing break through. Can you imagine the response if a horde of demons came trampling through? Opposing governments would assume it was their enemy, setting a new weapon to strike.”


Morio joined the conversation. “Should that happen? Watch the nuclear bombs fly. And the resulting radiation would only strengthen the demons. All Shadow Wing would have to do is start the whole mess. The humans would do the rest and leave Earthside open to utter destruction and enslavement.”


“He’s right. What’s going on in Otherworld?” Trillian said. “That will only be multifold should the Demon Lord make it through the portals.” He brushed his hand over his eyes. “I’m going to the kitchen and check on my wife, if you’ll excuse me.”


As he left the room, I turned back to Roz, but the incubus was leaning back on the sofa, asleep. He must have been exhausted. I picked up a throw and gently covered him with it. None of the men had slept much—of that I was sure.


At that moment, Smoky and Vanzir returned.


I pointed to the kitchen. “Camille is in there. Trillian and Delilah are with her. And Roz is asleep. Let him rest, if you can.”


Smoky gave me a gentle nod. “I’ll go to her then.”


Vanzir gave me a speculative look. “Do you need to be with them—your sisters?”


I shook my head. “I don’t think I’d do much good right now. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” I stepped past him, then headed outside. I knew what I had to do, even though I didn’t want to.


The rain was slashing down, stinging needles against my flesh. Vampire I might be, but I could still feel jabs and punctures and bruises. They may not hurt as much, in fact most of them bounced off, but I was aware of them.


Clouds boiled across the sky and I stared up at the racing storm. We were in our rainy season, and it would last until June. The Seattle area managed about fifty-five to sixty cloud-free days a year, most of them in the summer. I relished the chill gloom—it seemed more appropriate than winters in more southern climes, where I’d still have to stay in my lair, asleep until the pull of sunset woke me. I loved the rain and wind that swept through, making the Northwest its semipermanent home.


As I approached the shed-cum-apartment, I stopped for a moment. I was better suited than either of my sisters for this, but still… I wasn’t sure just how it would affect me. It had been only hours ago that I’d attended the funeral of a good friend. Now, I’d be standing vigil by another corpse, but this one… this one I had roots with.


After a moment, I summoned my courage and pushed through the door. There, neatly laid out on the sofa, was the shrouded figure of Sephreh ob Tanu, the man who had loved our mother, the man who had shared his genetic code with us. I knelt by the leather couch, pausing before I reached out and slowly pulled the shroud away.


It was Father, all right. Even through the pale, bruised skin… it was Father. I thought about lifting the cover all the way, seeing just what had happened to him, but then I decided to forgo the idea. I didn’t need the gory details. I’d lived through my own death and torture. I didn’t need to see what pain he’d been through when he died. I could afford him that much privacy.


As I watched his face, I realized I was searching for any sign of life—a flutter of breath, or a flicker of the eyelashes. But silence ruled, and Father remained still as the silence of my own body. Only for him, there would be no second chance, there would be no life after life, no living death. He had gone to our ancestors, and I had no doubt he stood arm in arm with Mother now.


The thought made me smile. He’d missed her so very much, and had never been quite right after her death. He’d become hardened, harsher—more demanding. Poor Camille had born the brunt of his expectations, but we’d all felt the withdrawal. A guardsman at heart, Sephreh’s grief had turned him from stoic to rigid. But in the end, he’d given more than we ever thought possible, and he’d tried to make his peace with us.


“I don’t know if I can ever forget the years you ignored me after I was turned,” I found myself saying. “Or the way you treated Camille… she was just a little girl and you turned her into the household servant. You were only kind to Delilah, but even then you ignored her.”


Pausing again, I thought about what I wanted to say to him. His spirit would most likely be around, and I was certain he could hear me. “But… despite all that… despite the way you treated Trillian, in the end, you made the effort to return to us. You were kind to my wife. You apologized to Camille. You apologized to Trillian. And in the end of things… I believe that you meant what you said. I believe you were sorry.”