Shaded Vision Page 13


“No. He got away. In fact, I’ll bet he’s the one who managed to teleport them out.” Shamas pulled a chair up and swung one leg over, settling himself on the seat. His hair was pulled back in a tight braid, and his eyes flashed, the same violet as Camille’s but without the silver flecks. He was a good-looking man and had not suffered for lack of female company—Shamas picked up dates as easily as I hacked up hairballs.


“Tell us about him. What can he do?” Camille smacked him lightly on the back of the head. “I can’t believe you did this, Shamas. I can’t believe you studied with the enemies of my order.”


He let out a long sigh as Smoky glowered and Morio gave him a cold stare. “I’m sorry. I really am. I didn’t mean to hurt you, Camille. I…I always envied you. You were studying magic. You were half human, but they were still letting you study under the Moon Mother. And I…I couldn’t get any of the guilds to accept me for study.”


“What about Aunt Rythwar and Uncle Foss?”


“If my foster mother had backed me, maybe I could have gotten in somewhere, but Rythwar’s husband—Uncle Foss—was determined that I join the Court and Crown. I was to be a nobleman’s son. He wanted me to live on the periphery of Lethesanar’s court, never doing anything important, always playing sycophant. And Aunt Rythwar didn’t want to rock the boat.”


Camille and I nodded. We’d seen it with our father’s family. All of them except Aunt Rythwar and Father himself had been intimately connected with the former Queen’s court. The Opium Eater—Queen Lethesanar—had been deposed by her sister Tanaquar, who was now involved with our father.


“You didn’t want that?” Maybe I’d gauged him wrong.


Shamas rested his chin on his arms, which were crossed across the back of the chair. “No. I wanted to work with magic. I felt called to it—all my life. But I wasn’t allowed to follow my heart. You don’t know how much I envied the three of you—your father always let you do what you want. Your mother loved you beyond measure. I would have given anything to live with your family.” He shot a glance at Camille with a barely disguised look of longing that confirmed my suspicion. Shamas had been fond of her.


Camille hung her head, then leaned down and pressed her lips to his cheek. Smoky stiffened, and she shot him a look that made him take a step back.


“Dear Shamas, you are a part of our family. And I’m sorry…but sorcery—it’s just wrong. You should have just done what you wanted.”


He patted her hand and let out a harsh laugh. “Like you did? It was expected of you, that you be difficult and different. You were half-blood. Most of the family wrote you off anyway. I hated the way they treated you, but I didn’t dare buck tradition. But I was my mother’s prize, and she made sure Uncle Foss knew. It was expected that I make a match with one of the upper nobles—a relative of the Queen. I tried…but I just didn’t want any of them. I wanted…”


“We get it.” I broke in, quelling a potentially hazardous admission.


Being a prize cow was common back in Otherworld. Marriages were usually made for economic and political reasons, not so much for love. Father had totally ignored the pressure, but then again, he was a guard in the Des’Estar, not so highly placed. Even so, his choice to marry Mother had left our family ostracized.


“We understand,” Camille added. “Please continue.”


Shamas caught her gaze, and the two stared at one another for a moment. Then, slowly, he said, “When I had the chance, I ran. I went south, to Ceredream. There I met Feris, and he agreed to teach me for a price. I paid him well, and he took me on as an apprentice.”


“What happened?”


“We argued. He was on a vendetta. I refused to participate, and he threatened to kill me. I ran back to Y’Elestrial, where Lethesanar was embroiled in civil war. Feris sent word to the Queen that I was a spy, which wasn’t true.”


“So Lethesanar caught you and…”


“As you say, the rest is history. The triad of Jakaris tried to free my soul before I was tortured. I had learned enough to grab hold of their energy and use it to teleport myself to safety. It’s an exhaustive spell, one that weakens the body for months. Sorcerers use teleportation only in dire circumstances or if they’re very close to their target destination.”


“So that’s how you got away.” I thought for a moment. “But if Feris used teleportation to sweep the other Tregarts away, he’s going to be drained.”


“Not necessarily. If they traveled only a short distance it won’t be nearly as debilitating as the spell’s effect on me. And remember, he’s demon. I’m Fae. They have stronger constitutions.” Shamas let out another long breath. “I don’t know why he’s here, but now that he knows I’m around, he’ll try to wreak revenge for what he sees as my betrayal.”


I played with a napkin, wanting to be up and after the rest of the demons, but that was pretty much a bust. “What vendetta was he on? What could he have wanted to do that made you defy him? Refusing a demon is pretty much tantamount to a death warrant, especially if you’ve enlisted his help.”


I couldn’t quite connect the dots. Shamas wasn’t stupid. He had to have known refusing Feris would cause a violent reaction. And if he was so desperate to work magic, then wouldn’t he have taken on any task?


“I don’t want to say.” Shamas set his lips. I remembered that pout from childhood. Shamas had gotten his way far more than once by playing a pout.


“Tell us, Shamas. We need to know. It might have something to do with why the Tregarts are here.”


“All right. I’m tired of hiding. But you’ll hate me.” His gaze flickering away, he blushed and hung his head. “Feris was planning to lead a group of sorcerers up to Y’Elestrial, where they were going to attack the grove of the Moon Mother.”


Camille gasped, her eyes flaring with anger. “Shamas, how could you?”


“I couldn’t. Before I ran, I sent word to your order, Camille, and warned them. I made sure Feris knew I’d ratted him out, as you say. I wanted him to know the attack would be useless. By the time he and his crew arrived, Derisa would have mobilized an army. So he never bothered staging it. I was headed home to lay low for a while. But Feris got his revenge. He told Lethesanar I was a spy. She believed him, and it almost cost me my life.”


I glanced over at Camille, who was staring at him coldly. This would be a hard one for her to forgive. Even if he’d ultimately chosen to do the right thing, the fact that he’d studied with a mortal enemy of her goddess might be enough to mark him forever in her heart.


“Thank you for telling us.” I caught sight of the clock. Nearly one thirty. “Crap—we have to get home! Iris is going to go stark raving crazy unless we get there to help.” For once, the demons would have to wait. Especially since we had no clue where they’d gone.


Camille slowly moved past Shamas. He reached up for her hand as she passed, but Smoky grabbed his fingers with his own and squeezed. Shamas grimaced, pulling back and shaking his hand. He was lucky it was still attached to his wrist. Morio smacked him on the head—gently, or at least as far as we were concerned—as he followed behind them. Shamas stared at the three of them as they left the room.


Chase sidled a look over at me, but I gave him a slight shake of the head that read, Let matters be. He picked it up, turning his attention to Shamas.


“Come on, dude…we need to get back to headquarters after we make sure nobody else was hurt.” He clapped a hand on Shamas’s shoulder, leading my cousin out. As they neared the door, he turned back to me. “Thank you, Delilah. Thank Camille and her men for me, too. We needed your help today. We’ll see you tonight, at Iris’s wedding.”


As they left, I sank down next to Shade. He stretched out an arm and I leaned into it, resting my head on his shoulder. He kissed me lightly on the forehead, and I melted into the luxury of knowing that he was there for me. Even in the hardest of times, Shade would be with me.


“I take it your sister’s going to be pretty upset for a while?”


I nodded, my face still pressed against his shoulder. “Um-hmm. As kids, Shamas and Camille were really close. For a while, Menolly and I thought they might grow up and marry, but then we realized that there was no way they could, not with Camille’s half-human blood. I think…I think that she was a little in love with him. And I know he was, with her. But they grew apart and then he disappeared into Court and Crown life, and she joined the YIA.”


“Star-crossed lovers?”


Shrugging, I pushed myself up and let out a long sigh. “No, not really. Maybe. She never talks about him in that way. But I know it hurt her when he cut us off in favor of the nobility. Anyway, let’s get going. Camille and I need to stop and pick up Iris’s wedding gift and her cake. You go home and help out there.”


“What about the demons?”


“Until tonight’s over, the demons can fucking eat my dust. Today is Iris’s wedding, and nothing is going to put a stop to it. She’s waited a long time for this day…I won’t let anything else interfere.”


“Come on, babe. I’ll walk you out to the car.” Shade draped his arm around my shoulders and as we headed toward the door, all I could think of was that I really, really wanted a vacation.


Chapter 8


Smoky took Morio home through the Ionyc Seas, and Shade traveled on his own. Camille and I stopped in the women’s bathroom on the way out to clean up the best we could, then headed toward our first stop: The Scarlet Harlot.


The shop was originally owned by Erin Mathews, an FBH. But when she’d been targeted by Menolly’s sire, Menolly managed to turn her before she died and now Erin was essentially Menolly’s middle-aged daughter. Tim Winthrop had bought out Erin, and he ran the lingerie store now.


On the way there, I waited to see if she wanted to talk about Shamas, but she just stared out the window. After a few minutes, she cleared her throat.


“I hope Iris loves her gift. And those damned demons better not put in an appearance tonight. Nobody’s messing with Iris’s wedding.”


“No…they probably won’t. Tregarts can’t break through our wards.”


“Asheré could—he was a powerful sorcerer.” Once again, an edge of fear tinged her voice, but then she paused and took a deep breath. “You’re right. They’d be fools to show up when all of the Supes are going to be there. Iris invited at least a hundred people.” Camille hung her head, her fingers worrying the material of her skirt. “Why’d he do it, Kitten? Why did he have to do that?”


I pressed my lips together. There was no answer. None that Shamas hadn’t already given us. After a moment, I let out a short huff. “He was stupid. Impulsive. He probably didn’t think. I don’t think he meant to hurt you. I doubt that ever crossed his mind.”


She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter, I guess. At least it tells us something about one of the Tregarts we’re facing.”


I didn’t want to ask, but I had to. “Do you love Shamas?”


“What?” She jerked around, staring at me like I’d grown another head. “No. I mean…not now.” Flustered, she stumbled over her words. “Let me start again. Okay, yeah, I did. Many years ago, when we were younger, before I realized that Mother’s blood meant I’d never be able to marry him. And while I’m most comfortable with a poly relationship, when it comes to Court and Crown, mistresses take second place. And I never settle for second. But now?” She shook her head. “I care about him. I love him—as a cousin. But am I in love with him? No, that ship sailed and sank a long time ago.”


She gave me a slow smile. “Chase is worried about a familial connection that’s so long-stretched it’s barely existent. He would freak about the connections made back home. So, let’s talk about something else.”


“Good idea. I’m tired of blood and fighting. I want one evening when we can just have fun, let go, and not worry.” We reached the Scarlet Harlot—a block or so away from Camille’s bookstore—and I veered into an open parking spot. Every time she was in the car, Camille was able to conjure up a parking spot. I always considered her a good-luck charm when it came to shopping.


We hopped out of the Jeep and slammed the doors, heading into the shop. Tim was behind the counter. We hadn’t had a chance to really chat with him in ages, and he looked good. Tim had let his hair grow till it was shoulder length. It was curly and gave him a pretty-boy look. He was wearing a black tank, black leather pants, and a silver belt. When he saw us, he put one hand on the counter and swung over the top.


“You’ve been working out, dude. Look at those abs. I can see them under the shirt.” Camille pressed her hand to his chest and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. I crowded in for a kiss, too.


“I’ve been putting in spare time at the gym as a personal trainer, as well as doing website work on the side. Jason’s shop hasn’t been doing as much business lately, so we can use the extra money.” He tousled my hair. “Still love the hair, girl.”


Winking at him, I hopped up on the counter to sit while Camille meandered around the shop. She spent a fortune here, on bustiers and lingerie. I’d bought a few bras and panties from them but felt out of place in lace and satin. But this time a leopard-print bra caught my eye. It was microfiber, which would be comfortable, with just a hint of black lace.


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