We silently followed him back to Chase’s room, where the detective mumbled groggily as we woke him up. “Come on, Chase, we need to take you with us.” I turned to Delilah. “Get Sharah. She should come with us, too.” I looked at her pointedly, hoping she wouldn’t say anything to give us away.

But she seemed to understand and left without a word. A moment later, she was back with Sharah in tow, a confused look on the Elfin medic’s face. As Shade and Morio helped Chase dress, we stepped out into the hallway. Sharah started to ask something, but I shook my head.

“Wait. Please, just wait and do as we say.”

“Very well. Thank you, though, for saving Chase.”

Again, I just nodded. When Shade and Morio appeared, Chase leaning on their shoulders, we headed out to the cars. As we hit the cold, crisp air, Camille and Delilah shivered. I glanced at them.

“Put Chase in my Jag. Shade, you go with Camille and Morio. Delilah, can you take Sharah, please?”

While they arranged the drugged detective in the backseat of my Jaguar, I pulled Shade off to one side. “How do we know these bhouts haven’t gotten hold of Sharah or Mallen?”

“We don’t, which is why I’ll have to check her out. But I don’t want to alert Mallen, in case he’s being controlled. It’s odd enough for us to remove Chase from the hospital, but right now we’ve told him we don’t know what’s causing the problem. They may—or may not—believe us. But it buys us a little time. Now let’s head out.”

He was about to head over to Camille’s Lexus when my phone rang. I pulled it out and punched the Talk button.

Iris’s voice came breathless over the line. “Menolly, we have a serious problem here. Can you come home right away?”

“What’s going on?” A cold fright took hold of my stomach. Please, don’t let demons be invading the land again. They’d come through at one time and torn the place to hell and gone. Iris had been lucky to escape with her life.

“The backyard is filled with will-o’-the-wisps. Bruce and I are stuck in the trailer. Hanna’s in the house with Maggie and Vanzir—he’s watching over them. Trillian, Roz, Shamas, and Smoky are trying to figure out where they’re coming from and what to do about them.” She sounded frightened.

“Hang tough. We’re on our way. Do you have any idea what brought them out or where they’re coming from?” I motioned to Delilah before she and Sharah took off. Camille and Morio were still waiting for Shade.

Iris’s voice was shaking. “No, they started to show about an hour ago and now, the yard is filled with them. Bruce and I had just come out to the trailer when they started appearing. I’ve dealt with them before. I know better than to go outside when they’re out there—they’re not good for pregnant women to be around. Bruce thought they were eye catchers at first, but I know the difference.”

“We’re on our way. And we’re bringing a whole ’nother set of problems. Can you call the Wayfarer and tell Derrick I doubt if I’ll be in tonight? And is Nerissa there?” Nerissa had gone to work, but I wasn’t sure if she had returned to her condo or decided to spend the night at the house, and I hadn’t thought to drop in and ask Yugi before we left the building.

“Nerissa? I haven’t heard from her all day. I thought she might be with you. I’ll call her now.” She hung up on me and I quickly filled the others in on what we were facing.

“Will-o’-the-wisps? They usually don’t come out in the cold—at least not this cold.” Camille looked confused.

Will-o’-the-wisps belonged to the Fae family, pretty but tough little buggers. They were mean and dangerous, and we’d faced them once before. The results hadn’t been all that pretty then either. They were also known as Corpse Candles, a delightful name.

“They’re energy eaters,” Morio said. “Remember when we found Aeval in the crystal, in the cave? They were after us because of our magic. The whole town seems to be overrun with psychic leeches of one sort or another.” He let out a long sigh. “We’d better get a move on. I don’t know what we’re going to do, though. What can stop a will-o’-the-wisp?”

I frowned. “I have no idea. Maybe we should contact Aeval?”

Camille shrugged. “No phones out in Talamh Lonrach Oll. How can we get out there in time?”

I glanced over at Shade. We needed him here, and he wasn’t keen on carrying people through the Ionyc Seas because of his Netherworld energy. Apparently it wasn’t exactly a comfortable mix. But…Smoky…

“When we get home, you and Smoky immediately head out there through the Ionyc Seas. Meanwhile, I need to make a phone call.” I didn’t want to tell her I was calling Ivana Krask, because she’d blow up and argue with me, and we couldn’t afford to waste time in a bitchfest.

“To whom?” Camille looked at me suspiciously.

“Never mind. We’re rapidly running out of options. We’ve got a town overrun with ghosts, and now the will-o’-the-wisps are moving in. We need help. Just fucking trust me.” I pushed her gently toward her car. “Go. And the minute you get there, you and Smoky head out.”

“Menolly, be careful.” But she shut up when she saw the expression on my face. “Fine. Meet you at home.”

And with that, we split off to our cars. I glanced at Chase, safe in the backseat. How to get him to the house without the will-o’-the-wisps interfering would be another matter, but we’d deal with that when we got there.

I hit the steering wheel, angry, but at least I had enough restraint not to rip it off the column. “Why the fuck is this happening to us? Why can’t we ever catch a break?” Not expecting an answer—and not getting one—I flipped open my phone and put in a call to Ivana Krask, the Maiden of Karask. It was the last thing in the world I wanted to do, but I couldn’t see any other way out.

Chapter 13

Ivana Krask. To say she was a freak show was putting it mildly. One of the Elder Fae, she lived by her own rules and complained about the lack of “bright flesh,” her chipper term for babies. Served raw. On a plate. Ivana also kept a little garden out back, a kitchen garden to which she confined the ghosts she so loved to torture. I had a feeling those were just the bare bones of her delightful antics.

She answered the phone on the second ring. What the Maiden of Karask was doing with a phone I didn’t know, but some of the Elder Fae had tried to assimilate into society, if only to continue wreaking havoc on the world.

“Ivana? It’s Menolly.” I wondered if she’d remember me, but I needn’t have worried. She remembered me just fine.

“Well, Dead Girl. What are you thinking of tonight, meat on the hoof?” Her tone was jolly. I must have caught her at a good time.

Rule One: Never ask the Elder Fae for favors. If you admit to asking their help, you’re in their debt forever and they’ll take it by the pound out of your hide.

Rule Two: Show respect. But never show fear if you want something from them. Fear would get you in deep shit.

Rule Three: Never welsh on your debts.

Rule Four: Never, ever turn your back on one of the Elder Fae.

All other rules were subject to the matter at hand. And when in doubt, throw the rules book out the window, and run like hell. Because if you have to ask what to do next, they’re going to chase you down till you wish you were dead.

“Ivana, I thought you might be interested in striking a bargain. If you can produce results.” I waited, knowing the inevitable response.

“Bright flesh? You have bright flesh for the bargaining?” Her hungry voice gave me the shivers, and even though I’d be considered the monster by most people, I knew very well she was by far and away worse than I could ever imagine being.

“No bright meat,” I scolded her. “Never bright meat! But prime beef or plump chickens.”

She sounded disappointed. “You are a harsh one, Dead Girl. But…I think I hunger for oinkers. A suckling babe of an oinker, if the deal be struck. But before I commit to such a deal, tell me what you wish to trade for.”

I could have sworn I heard a shriek in the background. I did not ask who—or what—was with her, especially when she giggled.

“Can you dispatch will-o’-the-wisps? And we may have some ghosts for your garden.” I watched the wording carefully. Elder Fae were worse than the djinn for twisting the meaning of words.

Ivana paused, and I could practically hear the turning of those nasty little wheels in her head. After a moment, she said, “Aye. I can suck up the Corpse Candles and spit them out through my teeth. They fear neither Younger Fae nor Elder Fae, but Ivana knows how to handle them. Bugger the nasty pests, they get in my garden at times and I shoo them away when I don’t feel like dispatching them.”

“So you can take care of them? We have a yard full of will-o’-the-wisps and we need to get them off our land.” I glanced at the clock. I had to get moving. I settled the phone in the docking bay and activated the speaker as I pulled out of the parking lot.

Ivana snorted. “I can take care of them. An oinker babe, suckling and plump, juicy and raw.”

I groaned. Where the fuck was I going to find a suckling pig this time of night? But we had to have her help. “Fine, a deal struck. I will meet you in two hours at the edge of our land. We live—”

“Oh, I know where you live, Dead Girl. Never think I don’t know all about you and your sisters. A deal is struck on a tentative bargain. But ’tis not set until we shake in person.” The line went dead.

“Phone, off.”

Disconcerted that she knew where we lived, I stared at the road.

Where the hell was I going to find a suckling pig? I’d have to have it when she showed up. And then, I remembered. One of the werewolves we knew kept pigs and sheep. It was late—too late for a social call, but I didn’t have time to wait. I stared at my phone, trying to decide whether to call first. But that would give Frank a heads-up, meaning a chance to forbid me to drop over. Weres and vamps weren’t always the best of friends, though we were doing our best to put some of the old animosities to rest.

I brought up Frank’s contact info and checked his address. He lived about twenty minutes out of Seattle, and with the light traffic at night, I could make it there and back before Ivana met me at the house.

At times like this, I missed being able to let out a long sigh. There was something so satisfying about letting out a breath, oomphing, as it were. Oh, I could do it, but it required me to focus, rather than being instinctive, so it was pretty much a waste of time.

I missed that, just like I missed making noise when I walked, which was why I wore the ivory beads in my hair—they clinked, reminding me that I was still alive. And high heels clicking on sidewalks helped, too. There was an eerie silence that went along with being a vampire. No breath filling the lungs, no heart or pulse beating. Once I’d died and been turned, I began to realize how many sounds the living body makes, sounds that I never noticed, but took for granted. As a vampire, all the sounds of life within were silenced. Oh, we had blood in our veins, but it moved slowly, quietly, magically.

As I turned onto the exit leading to the freeway, I glanced at the clock. It was eight thirty. I hoped Frank would still be awake. He tended to keep farmer’s hours—early to bed, early to rise. I knew that because we got my bottled blood from him, and from a few other farmers around, and sometimes I came out instead of my sisters to buy blood, meat, and eggs. I’d show up at five in the morning, and every time, he was fully awake, breakfast tucked away, coffee in hand.

When he slaughtered the meat, he’d drain the blood, sanitize it, and pop it in the freezer. Selling it to us brought him some extra cash, and supplied me with necessary sustenance.

I glanced over my shoulder and, seeing no one behind me, shifted lanes, speeding along at a good pace. Seattle was a bustling metropolitan area during the day, but in late evening, when there weren’t any baseball or football games in play, traffic was fairly light. Afternoon rush hour tended to last from around three to seven P.M. After that, the streets were relatively clear.

The rain started up again, bouncing on the windshield in fat drops. I flicked on the wipers, then turned on the radio, running through the stations until I found the evening news.

There had been a murder in downtown Seattle—gangbangers roughing it up. And a policeman—no one we knew—had been hit while he was directing traffic around an accident. But the announcer said the cop would recover. I breathed a sigh of thanks. I didn’t pray to the gods much. Oh, I knew they existed, but I had no truck with any of them. They’d never done anything to help me, and they’d done plenty to hurt others. But for the cop’s sake, I whispered a simple thank-you to the powers that be. There was too much bad news in the world, and I was grateful for the good that we heard about.

My phone rang.

“Answer phone,” I said. There were laws against holding a cell phone while driving—for good reason. While we might break a lot of rules, there were some laws we actually followed.

It was Iris. “Camille and Morio are home, and they’re trying to do something about the will-o’-the-wisps but not having much luck. Menolly, I’ve tried to call Nerissa several times and she isn’t answering. I tried both her home phone and her cell. I’m worried. This isn’t like her.”

I kept my eyes on the road, but my mind began to spin. Where the hell was she? “Iris, can you call Yugi and ask him if she showed up at work today? Then call me right back.”

“I’ll do that now.” Iris hung up.