I wanted to turn around and go home, but now we needed that pig, and even though I was worrying up a storm, I had to keep going. Less than two minutes later, Iris called back. “Menolly? I talked to Yugi. He said that Nerissa was at work today. She told him she had some shopping to do this evening. I would think she’d be back by now.”

I eased down my speed. “Not necessarily. A lot of the malls are open until nine, and you know that Nerissa can shop till the stores close. I think I know what she’s looking for.” Images of wedding dresses flashed through my mind. “If she’s not back by the time I get home, I’ll go out looking for her. But right now, I’m working on a solution to those fucking will-o’-the-wisps.”

“What are you doing, Menolly?” Iris sounded suspicious.

“I’ve engaged help and she’ll be there in about ninety minutes. I’m procuring…payment.” I knew what Iris was going to say but there was no getting around it. She’d out me if I didn’t out myself. “I called Ivana.”

There was a brief silence, then Iris exploded. “Are you mad, girl? You contacted the Maiden of Karask, after we warned you against it?”

“She can suck down the will-o’-the-wisps as well as ghosts. You yourself said that nobody was having much luck—”

“Yes, but Smoky and Camille just left for Aeval’s. What do you think will happen if the Queen of Shadow and Dusk comes here, and then one of the Elder Fae shows up? Don’t you realize what a terrible combination that is? The Elder Fae detest the Fae Queens, and the Fae Queens have little love for the Elder Fae!” Iris sounded horrified. “Menolly, what were you thinking?”

“Listen, I’m tired about worrying who’s going to piss off who. Iris, I have to go. I’m coming up on my exit and need to focus on the road. Phone, hang up.”

The phone went silent. There’d be hell to pay once I got home, but I’d deal with that later. Iris’s hormones were in full form, and she’d become a terror on heels. Well, not heels—she was wearing flats now, and she was already starting to show. Which made sense, now that we knew she was carrying twins.

I changed lanes and eased onto the exit ramp. Frank lived just north of Mountlake Terrace, on three acres nestled in a suburb. He didn’t keep a large farm, but it was tidy and neat and provided meat for his family as well as several friends. Camille said he made the best sausage she’d ever tasted, so we bought all our pork from him. Not that I ever would be able to taste the meat, but at least the rest of the family loved it.

As for animal blood, what we bought from him wasn’t too bad. I never tasted antibiotics or hormones in it, like some of the commercial animal blood on the market.

I eased off on the speed and turned onto the private lane Frank lived on. There were plenty of kids in the neighborhood, including Frank’s three daughters, and animals running around, so I edged along slowly. The street was lit by a couple of streetlights, but it was still dim. As I pulled into the driveway, I was relieved to see lights on in the house. I parked and hopped out of the car, dashing for the door to escape the rain beating steadily down around me.

As I rang the bell, a noise sounded inside, and then the door opened to reveal Esme, Frank’s youngest daughter. Around eight—or what the equivalent would be among Weres—her eyes went wide as she stared up at me. Her hair was curly, held back in a ponytail, and she was wearing a modest jumper and saddle shoes. Frank did not allow his daughters to dress beyond their ages.

Esme called over her shoulder, “Da! Miss Menolly’s here.” And then, she looked back at me and solemnly curtsied, her finger crooked in her mouth. “Da will be here in a moment.”

“Thank you,” I said, stifling a grin. She was too cute for words.

A moment later, Frank appeared. He opened the screen door. “Menolly, is something wrong? Did you run out of blood? Come in.” I was touched by his concern. He could have forced me to stay outside, but instead he had assumed I needed help and allowed me into his household.

“Thank you, Frank. I’m sorry I came around so late. I wouldn’t have, if it wasn’t a matter of…well, not life and death, but we have a situation with will-o’-the-wisps and need your help.”

“I have no clue on what to do about Corpse Candles, Menolly.” He ushered me into the living room.

“Oh, it’s not them in particular that I need help with. It’s…well…”

I sat in the chair he showed me to. Frank’s house was modestly decorated, tasteful, cozy, and homey. I smiled at the family photograph hanging over the fireplace. That was new, and they were a handsome-looking clan.

“What do you need?” Frank Willows was tall with broad shoulders. He had black hair with a shock of white through it, and thick lips. He looked like a farmer, and he was proud of his work. His wife worked in IT, but she seldom came out to speak to us. Frank was definitely the head of the household, as was common among werewolves, but we never saw any sign of abuse of power when we visited. And we’d never heard a word against his character.

I cleared my throat. “I need a suckling pig. Preferably still raw.”

Frank stared at me. “That’s your solution to an invasion of will-o’-the-wisps? I didn’t know they liked pork.” A smile escaped his lips.

“Well, yes, in a way. I’ve engaged one of the Elder Fae to come help us and she demands an ‘oinker’…a suckling piglet. It’s better to meet their demands rather than to try to circumnavigate them.”

Frank’s mirth quickly vanished. “You’ve called on the Elder Fae? Do you have a death wish?”

I shrugged. “I’m already dead, so that’s rather moot. Seriously, I’ve worked with her once before and she was of great help. We can’t seem to figure out a way to get rid of the damned things, and she can.”

Tapping my fingers on the blue upholstery of the chair, I said, “I know it’s a fool’s venture, Frank, but we have a lot of worries right now, and we can’t be distracted from our main tasks. A yard full of will-o’-the-wisps may not seem like much of a danger, but anything that interferes with our primary focus is an impediment.”

Frank rubbed his temples. Most people didn’t realize that he was part of the Supe Community Council, but he was. And he was one of the few who knew about the demon menace. He was quiet, always staying in the background, but he exerted a steadying influence on some of the more volatile Weres, and since Exo Reed’s death, Frank had been assuming more power in the Council.

“Menolly, the danger has come to town again, hasn’t it? I’m hearing rumors, especially from those who use magic.” He looked at me, straight in the eye, ignoring the competition that act could bring up between Weres and vamps. “Don’t tell me who or what—I don’t need to know. But…should I be watching the farm more? Should I be calling on the shamans of the various clans and prides to make certain they’re safe?”

I gazed back at the gentle giant. He meant well. He was sturdy and stalwart and brave. And that made him the perfect target for those wanting to hurt us. “Yes, watch the farm closely. Guard who comes off and onto your land. Don’t let your children play alone. But Frank…as much as you might want to help, don’t get involved until we ask you to. Stand back and let us take care of matters. If—and when—we call on you, know that it will be with direst need.”

He regarded me carefully. “While you and your sisters and friends face the danger head-on?”

I lowered my gaze. “We’ve had too much collateral damage, Frank. I don’t want…”

With a slight nod, he agreed. “Very well. I have a suckling pig you can take. It’s frozen, but not cooked. But Menolly…if events grow dire, I have relatives to whom I can send my children. And I will fight as you need. The Willows clan—we do not shirk duty.” He stood. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll fetch the piglet.”

I paid him for it, then before he could start out of the room, stopped him, lightly laying one hand on his arm. “Frank, if Shadow Wing breaks through, then no place will be safe. I’ll remember your offer. Meanwhile…tend to your farm. Enjoy your children.”

After he returned with the pig, I accepted the heavy garbage sack from him, peeking inside. Yep, one dead oinker. At the door, I swung around.

“Frank, for my sake…for yours…rescind your invitation. I never want there to be doubt or fear in your thoughts.” I did this with a number of friends, and they had grown to understand.

He looked almost hurt, but then nodded. “As much as I like you, Menolly, you may not enter this house.” And just like that, the invisible force field returned. Comforted, I tossed the piglet in the back of the Jag and roared off into the night. I glanced at the clock. Forty minutes until Ivana was to show up and the roadway was clear. Wanting nothing more than to get home and make sure everyone was okay, I sped through the night, my car a silent shadow.

As I pulled into the drive at home, the will-o’-the-wisps were running rampant. Globes of light danced around the area. They were pretty, and wouldn’t bother us much, except for Iris and Sharah. They had a penchant for pregnant Fae and were especially dangerous to humans.

If they made their home here, they’d spread out and multiply. They bred like rabbits—although we had no clue how they managed it. They were pure energy, as far as anybody knew. Not even the great Fae Lords could explain how they fit into the world. They were an enigma.

I jumped out of the car and raced inside. Glancing around, I looked for Nerissa and, to my relief, saw her in the corner, amid a pile of loot she’d managed to secure from Nordstrom and Macy’s and a number of stores.

“Oh, thank gods you’re safe! Iris had me worried. I imagined all sorts of dreadful things.” I stepped over the bags and boxes, almost tripping on a large box from Leila’s Boutique, and leaned down to kiss her. “Why didn’t you call?”

Nerissa smiled. “I didn’t know all this was happening. I was out on several cases today and didn’t even make it back to headquarters before I finished up for the day. I had no clue Chase was in danger.”

I glanced around. “Where is Chase? Did you manage to get Sharah and him inside away from the will-o’-the-wisps without a problem?”

Delilah nodded. “Yes, though we had to fight them off. They swarmed and it was nasty. However, Iris and Bruce were able to get into the house during that distraction, so it wasn’t all bad.” She paused as Hanna entered the room, a tray in hand. Marion followed, carrying another tray. They were filled with tea and cups and cookies and what looked like homemade pastries. Marion’s big cinnamon rolls from her café! I longed to be able to taste one.

As they settled the trays on the coffee table, Marion looked up. “I know now is not the best time, but I wanted to discuss something with all of you.”

“What is it, Marion? Please, don’t tell me the Koyanni are making a nuisance of themselves again?” We’d had enough of the rogue coyote shifters.

As Hanna began serving the tea, Marion wiped her hands on her jeans and sat down next to Morio, who was sitting on the sofa.

Marion was a coyote shifter, herself. She and her husband, Douglas, had been living with us for a month since their house and café had been burned to the ground by Telazhar’s cohorts. After he’d gated in Gulakah, the Lord of Ghosts, Telazhar had headed over to Otherworld. Meanwhile, the insurance company had actually come through and Marion’s café was being rebuilt, and she and Douglas were house hunting.

“No, no sign of any of the stragglers. What I wanted to tell you is that Douglas and I will be moving out until our house is ready.”

Delilah jumped up. “Oh, no! Please, we don’t want you to go. Has anybody said or done anything to make you feel unwelcome?”

“Not at all.” Marion sipped her tea, and bit into a cookie. “But let’s face it—you’ve got an army living here. There’s not much room and we’re intruding. We’ve had an offer that will keep me busy while we’re waiting for the café to be rebuilt and we find a house to buy. Douglas has his job, of course, but I need to feel useful and there’s only so much I can do here.” She smiled. “So, it’s a good thing all the way around.”

“Where are you moving?” I couldn’t imagine they had enough money for a hotel. There was no telling how long it would take for them to find a new home.

“We’re moving in with Wilbur, to take care of him.”

Morio choked on his cookie, while Vanzir spit out a mouthful of tea. The rest of us stared at her like she was crazy. But Iris didn’t hold back.

“You’re moving in with Wilbur? You have to be joking! Marion, are you out of your skull?” She stood up, hands on hips, her eyes ablaze and ready to scold. “Wilbur is…he’s…”

Marion held up her hand. “Wilbur did his best to help with the Koyanni problem and in the process, he was terribly wounded. He’s almost ready to go home, but he’s going to need tending to until he gets used to his artificial leg. Douglas and I…we want to help. We can take Martin back to his home, then.”

Wilbur was a necromancer on our side—or as close to our side as he was ever going to get. Crude and lewd, he had raised his brother, Martin the accountant, from the dead and turned him into a ghoul, the only way Wilbur could think of to keep his family with him. Marion was right, though. Wilbur had nearly been killed trying to protect our secrets. His leg had been crushed to the point of amputation. Now, he was about ready to go home.