For now, we were spreading it around that Erin was on a long vacation, and Erin helped out by calling friends, purporting to be overseas. Lindsey had taken over as president of the Faerie Watchers Club, and the women's shelter provided a source of temporary help for Erin's store. There were always women staying at the Green Goddess who needed to pick up a few extra bucks to help them get back on their feet. So I owed Lindsey more than just a routine favor.

"Tell me what's wrong." I lowered my masks and turned on the glamour so she wouldn't feel so awkward talking to me. Being half-Fae had its perks, and being able to win friends and influence people were two of the best. I tried to be good and keep myself from abusing it, but it still amazed me at how much power our natural charms held for FBHs.

She swallowed her tears and gave me a weak smile. "Ron and I've been trying to get pregnant for three years, but it looks like for all our trying, it's futile. The odds are that I should have been pregnant at least twenty times over, but nothing. And we can't afford infertility treatments. We were going to adopt, but because of his disability, the agencies aren't interested in giving us a baby." Her voice cracked again.

I sat back, thinking. A lot of people had babies on the brains lately. First our friend Siobhan Morgan, a selkie, had been having trouble getting pregnant. Thanks to Sharah and the OIA medics, we'd discovered the source of her problem—easily fixed—and she and her boyfriend Mitch had just broken the good news to us a week ago. Now here was Lindsey, a human who worked with FBH magic, having problems. Had some god decided to smack a divine moratorium on magical babies lately?

"They actually told you they won't consider you because of his disability? Can't you fight them in court? I thought discrimination was supposed to be a thing of the past, at least for humans." Apparently, I was wrong.

"They didn't come out and say it directly, but I've got a friend in the secretarial pool there, and she snuck a peek at our file. They moved us to the bottom of the list, and the social worker noted on our record that we were a high-risk couple because of Ron's condition and because I work with women who've been battered." Lindsey frowned. "If we had the money, we could take them to court, but even then, it might be years before we won our case."

"Well, that sucks." Lindsey and Ron would make great parents. Ron might be paralyzed from the waist down, but he never let a little thing like his wheelchair get in his way. And Lindsey was a black belt in judo. She could handle any irate attackers without blinking. But this also explained why she was so desperate to get pregnant that she'd chance grabbing a unicorn's horn without permission.

"I hate to burst your bubble, but the old wives' tales are wrong. Rubbing a unicorn's horn won't make you more fertile. It might get you killed, but it won't strengthen your baby-making equipment."

She gripped the arms of her chair. "Is there anything you can do, Camille? I wouldn't ask, but since the subject's come up…"

Oh man, she had to be kidding. I tried to repress the peal of laughter that threatened to bubble over, but lost. I collapsed back in my chair, my eyes watering.

"Oh, honey, trust me. You do not want me messing around with your plumbing!" I wiped my eyes on my sleeve. "First off, I'm not a healer. Second, with the mayhem that creeps in from my bloodline, my magic could make anything happen. Hell, you might end up pregnant from an ogre… or worse… if my spell backfired."

The melancholy look on her face vanished, and she gave me a sideways grin. "That bad, huh?"

"Yeah, seriously, it could be. Let me think for a moment." It wasn't wise for the Fae to play around with human lives on a magical level but sometimes we were able to rationalize an exception. "Tell you what. Let me ask around and see what I can find out."

Brightening, Lindsey straightened her shoulders. "Would you really?"

"I can't promise anything," I warned her. "So don't get your hopes up. But I'll ask. Did your doctor tell you exactly what your problem is?" Before letting her get too excited, I'd better find out up front if it was something that no one but the gods could fix.

She chewed on her thumbnail. "No. They can't figure out why I can't get pregnant. Ron's sperm is viable, and I'm ovulating, but… it's almost like something doesn't want us to make a baby. We're both brokenhearted. Especially with the mess over adoption."

I nodded. "Okay then. I need to get a move on, but I'll call you as soon as I can. Are you going to see Erin tonight?" Menolly went to see her every other day, but Erin needed to learn how to be around humans—ones who were still alive, that is—without going crazy and attacking them on sight. It could be a little scary for her visitors, but every day Erin was learning a little more how to harness her cravings and her newly developing powers. Sassy Branson was seeing to that. She'd taken Erin on as her personal project.

Lindsey nodded. "Yeah. I'll see you later." With one last, longing glance in Feddrah-Dahns's direction, she took off, the door swinging closed behind her with a firm click.

Chapter Four

I had no idea what my sisters were going to say when I showed up at the house with a unicorn. Feddrah-Dahns was resting in the back of Chase's new SUV. I was convinced Chase had bought the hulking machine in order to fend off some testosterone insecurity, but he wouldn't admit to it. Now though, I was thankful for the monster of a gas hog.

It had taken a lot of cajoling to convince him to let Feddrah-Dahns squeeze into the back. Luckily, OW unicorns were a little smaller than their ES cousins, and with a lot of shoulder-boosting against his beautiful white butt, we'd managed to help him squeeze into the empty back end of the SUV.

"If he shits in there, you're paying for the cleaning." Chase slammed the tailgate shut. "We're both nuts, you know. You for suggesting this, and me for listening to you."

I brushed away his glower. "Give it a rest, Johnson. You're just as enchanted with him as everybody else, and you know it."

Chase snorted. "Yeah, right. Fairy tales and unicorns."

"Maybe not fairy tales, but according to Delilah, you like Faerie tail just fine," I said, ducking away when he playfully swatted me. "So, did you find out anything in my office?"

He shook his head. "Nope. Nothing more than we already know. Let's get this show on the road, woman. Get a move on, or I'm going to toss you over my shoulder, and we'll leave your Lexus right here on the Seattle streets all night long for the downtown boys to plunder. The meter's running, you know."

"You seem to have plenty of time to spare when it comes to playing cat and mouse with Delilah." I smirked, making a mad dash for my car. Chase was my sister's boyfriend, all right, but he still liked to flirt. At least with me, it was harmless, and he knew he wouldn't get anywhere.

Home is a three-story Victorian with a full basement, set on the outskirts of the slightly seedy Belles-Faire district of Seattle. We purchased the house when we first came Earthside thanks to a trust fund set up by Maria D'Artigo, our mother, an orphan who fell in love with our father in Madrid during the height of World War II.

With nothing to tie her Earthside—her foster parents had died in a car crash a few years before—Maria returned to Otherworld with Father. There, she married him and settled in to life on the outskirts of the Court and Crown, but she never fully gave up her ties over here. She also made certain that the three of us had roots in this world via Social Security numbers, a bank account, and birth certificates that fudged our origins. When the portals opened and the government had to face the truth about the Fae, we had them amended so now they read, "Birthplace: Y'Elestrial, Otherworld," and they listed our father's name and race.

To her dying day our mother was our protector and advocate. And our Father loves us, too. Who can ask for more? But unfortunately, our mixed blood makes life hell at times.

I'm Camille D'Artigo, the oldest, and I'm pledged under the Moon Mother's service. I've been called a lot of things—slut, seductive, passionate, dangerous, warped—but mainly, I'm just a witch who adores my magic, my family, and my lovers. A clotheshorse, yes. And a makeup junkie. And sure, my magic short-circuits—sometimes at a really bad time. But life can be exciting when you never know where the lightning will strike.

Delilah, the second-born, is a werecat. She changes into a golden tabby when stressed out by family affairs and on nights when the moon is full. And now, thanks to a recent visit to the Autumn Lord—we think—she also changes into a black panther when he decides it necessary. He claimed her to be one of his Death Maidens, and she's spirit-bound to reap souls for him during the harvest on Samhain Eve. But that's another story. We tend to pussyfoot around the subject, since there's nothing anybody can do to turn back time.

And then, there's Menolly. Back in Otherworld, Menolly was an acrobat—a souped-up spy, you might say—until she was captured by a group of rogue vampires. After torturing her until she begged for death. Dredge, the meanest vampire who ever lived, forced her to drink from his vein. She died, he helped her rise, and then he sent her home to kill our family. I managed to summon aid before she hurt any of us. But our family's never been the same since that night. Menolly's learning to live with being a vampire. Again, not much else she can do, so might as well make the best of it. We seem to be having a lot of those make-the-best-of-it adventures, lately.

My sisters and I work for the OIA, or rather, we did until civil war broke out back home. To avoid the death threats on our head back in Y'Elestrial, we've decided to park it right here, Earthside. Even if we could go home, we wouldn't. Because behind all the mayhem lurks a threat that could wipe out both Earth and Otherworld.

Shadow Wing, a greater demon lord from the Subterranean Realms, is after the spirit seals, artifacts that can rip open the portals that join the three realms. If he wins, both Earth and OW bite the dust, razed to the ground by his hordes of minions. If we find them before he does, we'll be able to keep the precarious balance, guarded by the Hags of Fate.

Right now, we're two for two. And Shadow Wing is pissed, which makes him infinitely dangerous. And which makes our job infinitely harder.

As I jumped out of my car, I glanced around the yard. Iris had been busy the past few weeks. I'd been so rushed I barely noticed. But now I caught sight of a spurt of daffodils blooming beneath the oak and maple. A profusion of yellow in a sea of green that was more moss than grass.

Rosebushes sported leaf buds where—later—there would be hundreds of rich, red blossoms filling the air with their scent.

Skirting the house, a rainbow of irises and gladiolas nestled, close to blooming. And grape hyacinths snuggled among thick batches of bluebells, primroses, and tulips.

I paused by a large patch of plants. My herb garden. When I'd planted it early on last year, I had no idea of how long we'd be here, so I started a number of seedlings in case our stay was extended. Now, I was glad for that forethought. Belladonna and nettle, thyme and rosemary, spearmint and calendula and lavender all vied for space with the three dozen other plants in the cobblestone-bordered beds.

As I knelt beside the herbs, I could hear them whispering to one another. Just what they were saying, I couldn't quite catch. I'd have to tune in, reach deep into the soil and commune with them to find out. But they were active and aware. Neither of my sisters seemed to master talking to plants, but it was all part of the package once I cast my lot with the Moon Mother. More than once, I'd enjoyed a warm summer afternoon in lengthy communication with some wild bramble. Of course, the plants back in Otherworld were more friendly than the ones here.

Inhaling deeply, as the scent of rich loam and wet cedar filled my lungs, I rose and joined Chase by his SUV. I helped him open the tailgate, and we guided Feddrah-Dahns out of the back. I was relieved to see that the unicorn had refrained from leaving a calling card, beyond a few white silken hairs on the carpeted floor.

Chase just shook his head as he slammed the door shut and followed us up the stairs.

"Easy now, don't take them too quickly," I said as Feddrah-Dahns's hooves clipped a staccato beat on the wood. I was more worried about our porch than his health, to be honest. With those feathered hooves, he could probably punch a hole right through the weaker spots of the planks.

As I opened the door, I almost ran into Iris, who was passing through the hall on her way to the kitchen. She was carrying a tray filled with half-eaten sandwiches, a bowl of stale Cheetos, and two open soda cans. Delilah's doing, no doubt. Iris gave me a tight smile. She hadn't seen the unicorn yet.

"Camille, you have to do something about Delilah. I ask her to pick up after herself, but it just doesn't sink in. You'd think being a werecat she'd be fastidious, but she's rapidly descending into slobhood—" She stopped, staring beyond me. "There's a unicorn on the porch."

"Yeah… about that… I brought home a houseguest," I said, giving her a guilty grin.

"Where on Earth… how… oh my goodness! Let me get rid of this tray!" Flustered, Iris scurried off toward the kitchen as I led Feddrah-Dahns into the living room.

I moved the rocking chair so he'd have a clear space in which to stand. "Chase, can you go upstairs and find out if Delilah's home? Menolly should be up soon enough." I glanced at the clock. Six oh five. Another ten minutes, and she'd be awake.

Chase took off for the stairs as Iris came bustling back in. She cautiously approached the unicorn, bowing deeply. She was so petite compared to the horned horse that I hoped nothing would startle him. Iris stood barely over four feet. It would be easy to trample her.