"I'm on it," I said. "You have a picture of Peyton I can take with me? I think you should stay here in case she calls and needs help."
"Here, take this one." Anadey pulled open a small ornate silver frame and withdrew the picture, handing it to me. "Thank you, Cicely. Thank you for looking for my baby. I know she's a grown woman but . . ."
"But she's your child." I paused. "And Heather's my aunt. We can't just act as if nothing happened and go on as usual. Listen, while I'm out looking for her, can you do me a favor and write up a good, strong protection spell? We have to ward the house. I'll tell you why later."
Anadey nodded. "Of course. Go now, please. Find my daughter for me."
I leapt into Favonis and gunned the motor. Time to make tracks.
I stopped at the gas station on Twelfth and filled up Favonis. As I headed inside to pay for my purchases, I pulled out Peyton's picture. Nobody else besides the clerk was in the store and so I tossed a ten on the counter for my gas, then held out the photo.
"Can you tell me if Peyton Moon Runner was in this morning to fill up her car? I need to get in touch with her and she said she'd be coming here. Wanted to see if she showed yet."
The guy pushed the picture back to me. "I know Peyton. And yeah, she dropped by to fill up her tank. She in trouble?"
"I hope not," I muttered. Then louder, said, "Not from me. I'm just trying to track her down. Listen, did the cops come by to check whether she'd been in?"
He blinked. "Cops? No. I've been here all morning and you're the second customer I've had since she was in. Why do you ask?"
"No reason . . . apparently," I said, adding a candy bar to my purchase, then headed back to the car. So the cops hadn't even bothered to see if she'd been at the station. Which she had. Which meant that she'd vanished after she'd gassed up.
I stood beside Favonis, closing my eyes as I tried to listen to the wind for any whispers that might give me a clue. Any clue.
First layer down . . . human contact . . . emotionally charged discussions . . .
She said that she was at her girlfriend's house, but I found out later she was fucking my best friend . . .
Mother has cancer. Are you going to come visit or not?
What the hell are you talking about? I didn't scrape your car--you've got the wrong guy, you idiot.
And then, I lowered myself a little further, tuning into the astral, the world of the unseen, the world of the elements themselves.
Winter comes hard this year.
There's been a migration of Fae away from the area since the Shadow Hunters have come out to play. They hunt by day and night. Dangerous.
And then . . . into the level of magic itself.
The energy buzzed, and I caught hold of the tail. I opened my eyes, now able to visibly see the strands surrounding the area. It was like watching electrical impulses running through a body, only what I was seeing was residue from those who walked along the streets, who flew through the air, from magic-born and those not born to the human world alike.
At the pump next to mine, I saw a trail of purple sparkles, and they led out of the lot and down the street. Something called to me and I sensed . . . Peyton. I'd picked up her energy signature.
I jumped back into Favonis, and cautiously eased out onto the street. It was hard to see through the strands of energy lining the sidewalks and road, but I did my best to keep my focus carefully divided so I didn't get in an accident or lose track of the tracers I knew had come from Peyton. And then, they turned into a driveway ahead. I eased Favonis down to speed and followed.
As the car jostled over a speed bump, I glanced at the signs posted on either side of the drive. SUNSET PARK. Great. A four-hundred-acre park complete with jogging trails through the woods and a bicycle path. Wild wood. Perfect place for Fae to hang out. Or the Indigo Court.
I parked in the lot and slowly stepped out of my car, scanning for anything that might tell me . . . Hello? A red Kia, compact, sitting on the far side of the lot. Dreading what I'd find, I broke into a run and sprinted across the lot, skidding to a halt just behind the car. A glance around and a listen on the wind told me nobody was near here--but the energy trails led right to the car and then abruptly cut off, as if they'd been dampened.
The driver's door was unlocked and so I opened it, peeking inside. Peyton's purse was on the passenger seat, but the keys were nowhere to be seen. I glanced around, but found nothing unusual. Her gym bag was in the back so she'd definitely been on her way to meet me. A receipt for the gas poked out of the cup holder.
Stepping back away from the car, I glanced around. A trail led off to the left, into the woods. A faint wisp of energy tapped me on the shoulder.
Did she go that way, Ulean?
I believe so--a faint residue of her aura remains. But she is nowhere near here, that I can tell you.
I shaded my eyes from the silvery overcast glare and looked around. There was no way I was going in those woods alone. Too dangerous. I could feel it creeping around me like tendrils from a vine. Just then, a glint of shine caught my eye and I squinted. Something was in the snow near the trailhead.
Cautiously, I jogged over to it.
Watch my back.
You've got it, but there's nothing near here now. Not even prying eyes. Just the energy residue.
I leaned over, still carefully keeping my eye on the woods--Ulean was right most of the time but I wasn't going to let down my guard--and snatched up a set of keys. With a sinking heart, I saw the symbol for Kia printed on the car key. Heading back to the lot, I tried it in the lock. Sure enough, these were Peyton's keys. The thought that I should call the police crossed my mind but I dismissed it. Not a good idea, considering how nonchalant they'd been with us.
Instead, I punched in Anadey's number. She answered immediately.
"Yes? Peyton?"
"Sorry, no. It's Cicely. Listen, I found Peyton's car, and I found her purse and keys. Her energy heads directly into the woods and then vanishes. Does she often visit Sunset Park?"
Anadey let out a strangled cough. "Yes, she goes there to run sometimes, though she used to go a lot more, before the shadow came over the town. Cicely, do you think . . . they have her?"
I didn't want to say yes but the words spilled out before I could stop them. "I think we can assume so." I glanced around, wondering what had drawn her here. "You want me to lock up her car and bring her purse and keys back so you can come get it?""Would you?" Her voice had fallen, and with it her hope. I could hear the fear hiding behind her words; it had hold of me, too. I scooped up Peyton's purse and locked the Kia, then slid back into Favonis. With one last look at the trailhead, I pulled out of the parking lot and headed back to Anadey's.
Chapter 9
I spent an hour at Anadey's, trying to reassure her and collecting another load of supplies from Marta's stash. I hadn't a clue how to go about setting up the business, but I'd figure it out. It was noon by the time I drove back to the Veil House and unloaded everything.
The house seemed terribly quiet. Rhiannon was at work, and Leo was still asleep. He slept through the mornings, waking up in the early afternoon to run errands for Geoffrey and the vamps and then prepare for whatever they wanted him to do at night.
I stood out on the front porch for a while, staring at the forest, wondering if Grieve was near, but my wolf was silent. It occurred to me that the Indigo Court seemed able to exist in the light, so there was another difference between them and their vampire ancestors.
Finally, not knowing what to do next, I headed back inside. I'd no sooner locked the door behind me when Bart came rushing over to me and rubbed against my leg. I leaned down and gathered the powder puff of a cat--he was huge and heavy--into my arms and snuggled my face in his fur.
"You be careful, okay? You tell my cousin's cats to be careful, too. There are beasties out there that eat little ones like you." As I set the now-squirming Maine Coon down, the doorbell rang. Cautiously, I pulled back the curtains.
The FedEx truck was out front and I opened the door, feeling myself relax just a hair. The driver handed me a flat envelope and held out the register for me to sign. Afterward, he tipped his hat and headed back to the truck without a word. Wondering if he was always that silent, I glanced at the packet.
It was addressed to me. I ripped it open while speed-dialing Rhia at work. "Package came for me. I'm opening it right now."
The shuffle of papers told me Rhiannon was at her desk. "Did you ever find Peyton?"
"No. No, and they have her. The fucking Indigo Court has taken her."
The sound of silence, and then, "Hell. Does Anadey know?"
"I told her right before I came home. Hmm, I think there's an invitation in the package. Ivory paper, red rose wax seal on the back. Should I open it?"
"How else are you going to find out what it is?"
I slit the envelope with my switchblade and drew out a heavy parchment-style folded card. The front read You're Invited . . . and on the inside:
From the Crimson Court to Ms. CicelyWaters.
Please consider this a summons to a party this evening at 7:30 P.M. We also have a business proposition we would like to discuss. Your presence is required, and your friends may attend. Address: 12495 Ranchivo Drive. Dress: Formal.
Best, Regina Altos
Emissary to the Crimson Court.
Sweet heaven. Or hell. An invitation to a Crimson Court party was like receiving a summons from the Queen of England. In a way, it was a summons from a queen. The Vein Lords ruled over the Crimson Court.
"I think Geoffrey got our message." I read the invitation to her.
"I think you'd better wake Leo up. I'll get off early and come home. This sounds important. Cicely . . ." She paused.
"What is it?"
"Regina Altos has a brother who teaches here at the school. His name is Lannan. He's . . . don't cross him. Don't get involved with him. Rumors about his habits and preferences are frightening." Her words were constrained but I sensed a serious bout of worry behind them.
"Why do you think I would?"
"Because Lannan takes what he wants. And from what I've seen around campus, you're--" Again, a pause, then, "I have to go. We'll talk more tonight."
I slowly put down the receiver and looked at the invitation again. Regina was Emissary to the Crimson Court. Her brother was a professor. A thought occurred to me and I dug through the boxes of books I'd brought back from Marta's house. Sure enough, a book that had caught my notice was sitting near The Rise of the Indigo Court.
Another history . . . this one A History of the Vampire Nation . . . The leather-bound volume smelled like garlic, and it had a silver belt holding it shut. Which meant that Marta hadn't wanted the vampires getting their hands on it.
Picking it up, I began to flip through the pages. It was typeset, not written by hand, but my bet was that there were no e-books or audio versions of this book.
The Crimson Court is the ruling body of the Vampire Nation. Ruled for millennia by a vampire known only as the Crimson Queen, the actual location of the court is held secret, and no living person knows where it is. Several investigative journalists who have made an attempt to track down the location of the court died odd and sudden deaths.
The Queen of the Crimson Court is said to be half-mad from her age--it's rumored she's well over seven thousand years old. Still other rumors place her as having never truly been human, but rather a creature from the astral plane coming into physical form. The vampire race was said to have started with her, but this is regarded as speculation.
The Queen has a harem of thirteen emissaries scattered around the world and they carry out her bidding. They are accorded authority above the jurisdiction of local vampire nests and lairs, and even the Vein Lords cannot touch the emissaries, who are--for all intents and purposes--the Queen's eyes, tongue, and hands.
And Regina Altos was an emissary, therefore not even Geoffrey could thwart her. Which meant . . . well, I wasn't sure what it meant except that Regina had to be treated with kid gloves. I glanced back at the book, rifling through the pages until I caught mention of the words deal and business.
A deal made with vampires can be a make-or-break affair. Throughout history, we've seen how the Vampire Nation has become rich through the skilled use of prognostication and by playing on the greed of mortals. Much like King Midas, many of those who could have had prosperous dealings with the vampires ruined their chances by asking for too much--or by promising too much in return.
From religious institution to world leader to rock star, a number of humans have sold themselves to the vampires with dreams of becoming rich, not realizing that the arrogance of the Vampire Nation is one that enjoys seeing others make fools of themselves, and play puppet for the Crimson Court.
Slowly closing the book, I thought about our plan to ask Geoffrey for help. Obviously, Leo had talked to him--wait a minute . . . had Leo talked to him? And if not, why had we been issued the invitation?
I set the book back down on the pile and took the stairs two at a time to Rhiannon's room, where I tapped softly on the door. No answer. I opened it a crack and saw Leo, dead to the world, sprawled in her bed.
"Leo? Leo! Hey you." Not wanting to take a chance on embarrassing both him and me--the blanket was barely covering his nether regions and I didn't want to startle it off of him--I raised my voice.
Blinking, he began to come around, then shook his head and propped himself up on his elbows, squinting at me. "What's up?"
"Need to talk to you about something. Meet me downstairs? I'll make you some breakfast."
"Sure. Be down in ten." His tousled hair was sticking every which way as he rubbed his eyes and yawned.