Autumn Whispers

Chapter 6

When we arrived home, it was nearing 2:00 A.M. We were ragged and beat but the first thing Camille did was make me lie down on the sofa while she went to check on Iris. Nerissa led Menolly into the kitchen where I could hear them talking softly.

“What gives?” Roz brought me a light throw and covered me with it.

“Seven people died in the fire at the Wayfarer, and Menolly is blaming herself since it’s her bar.” I leaned back against the pillows gratefully. I hadn’t realized just how shaky I still was until we’d gotten to the steps and Shade had to carry me up. It felt awkward—I wasn’t a small woman—but when he saw I was having problems, he had swept me into his arms without a word and carried me inside.

Roz’s expression fell. He slowly sat down beside me. “No. That’s going to kill her.” He shook his head. “I wonder if I should go talk to her—”

“It gets worse. She received threats—two calls, one tonight, from someone threatening to burn down the bar. She’s going to be asking herself why she didn’t take it seriously after the first one. And we’re going to have to have an answer she can live with. Right now, Nerissa is with her. Give them some time. How’s Iris doing?”

“Still no sign of the babies but we’re getting closer and she’s a trouper. Trillian and Vanzir, of all people, are helping Hanna and Mallen. They told me to stay out here. Apparently, I get too panicked when it comes to a woman in labor.”

The look on his face said everything and I pitied Mallen trying to work around Roz, especially with his ill-disguised crush on Iris. Even though I knew Roz was seeing Hanna, I also knew they were just doing the friends-with-benefits thing, and that neither one was up for anything permanent.

Shade tapped him on the shoulder. “How about letting me sit next to my fiancée?”

Roz jumped up. He’d learned all too well what crossing a dragon was like—thanks to a thrashing that Smoky gave him early on. He walked softly around both of them now, even though Shade was only half dragon and a lot less possessive.

“I’ll take a peek in the kitchen and see how Menolly’s doing.”

As Roz left the room, Shade turned to me. “I’m sorry I didn’t make it to the hospital, but I had a hell of a time finding Bruce. Camille called me to tell me what was going down—not only with Menolly, but with you. We’re going to have to find the dreglins and wipe them out, of course. How are you feeling, love?”

“Like I got hit by a burning hot sledgehammer. Actually, though, I’m a lot better. And . . .” My thoughts went back to the image of Chrysandra, lying there, burned to a crisp and still alive. “I’m fine. I just need a little rest, but I’m fine.”

Shade wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me to him, my head resting on his shoulder. “I know. I know. Sometimes, you see something that never leaves you. Sometimes, there’s no way to erase a horror from your memory.”

“She was in so much agony. She hurt so fucking bad and they couldn’t do anything to stop it. The healers were just going to let her linger, mired in the pain, until she finally died. We couldn’t let that happen.” I began to cry, the tears finally coming as I leaned into his arms. “I wanted to take her soul, right there. But I couldn’t use my powers—Greta would have had my hide. I wanted to shift and let Panther rip out her throat—make it quick and easy.”

“You wanted to give her release.” Shade held me as the tears trailed down my cheeks. “I know. But healers have certain rules . . . they live by a code.”

“There comes a time when death is healing in itself.” I looked into his eyes. “Menolly killed her, and the healer let her do it. He knew. He knew that it would be a blessing. She had to finish what the arsonist started.”

“We do what we have to. Every rule has an exception. Nothing in this world is black and white—not even Shadow Wing. There’s always another side to the story, always another perspective. So, you know it was arson?”

“Not officially, not yet. But we know.” I told him about the letter and the phone calls. “We have no clue what’s going on. But somebody torched the place. There’s no doubt in my mind.”

“Fuck. Then we find who did it and we take care of them.” Shade gently placed his hands on my shoulders and pushed me back to stare in my face. “I have something to tell you. Perhaps this isn’t the best time, but I want you to be prepared.”

Nothing good ever came from the words “I want you to be prepared.” But Shade was stubborn and if he wanted to tell me whatever news it was, he would do just that.

“Okay . . . let’s have it. But I’m too tired to steel myself so if it’s really bad, be ready for me to go to pieces.” I waited.

“My sister is coming to visit next week. Her name is Lash. She wants to meet you.” The way he said it told me exactly what was going down. His family had heard about me and they were sending a scout to find out just who the hell I was.

Once again, my stomach lurched. I cleared my throat. “So . . . this is news, all right. Is she like you? Half shadow dragon, half shadow walker? Kind of helpful to know who my judge and jury is going to be.” I still had no clue what the Stradolans—the shadow walkers—were, Shade had always evaded my questions, but I wanted to know just who was going to be giving me the once-over.

Shade knew when I was being sarcastic and he bopped me gently on the nose with one finger. “Lash isn’t that bad. She’s not coming here to . . .” He stopped, then laughed. “All right, yes, she’s coming here to look you over, but I think you’ll like her. And I think she’ll like you. And yes, she is both shadow walker and shadow dragon. Though I came from an earlier clutch, so technically I’m her older brother.”

I kept my mouth shut, but inside, my stomach was a fluttering lek of butterflies. If she’d only showed up a week ago, it wouldn’t have been a problem. But now? With everything that had just gone down in the past day? Not so good. But I said nothing. I didn’t want to make Shade feel bad. Instead, I adjusted myself against the pillows and rested my arm on the back of the sofa. The wound hurt like hell, but it would heal. Best to just let this little blip alone till I was actually facing it. Or rather, her, as the case was.

“I hope she likes chaos. If she’s going to stay here, she’s going to be subject to a whole lot of it.”

Roz reappeared. “Nerissa took Menolly downstairs. I think she’s going to apply a little touch therapy, if you know what I mean. Menolly seemed a bit calmer by the time they headed to her lair.”

Just then, Camille dashed in. “Baby number one is here! Iris just had a little girl and everything looks lovely. I’ll be back as soon as baby number two arrives.” She vanished before we could say a word.

I looked up at Shade and, for the first time today, I laughed. “Go Iris!” A wave of relief washed over me as I realized that at least one thing was going right.

“For such a little thing, she has the strength of many men.” Shade broke out in a smile and I realized that I hadn’t been the only one worried about our Iris. Birthing twins—especially for first babies—was a rather daunting thought. But it was half over, and so far, so good.

“Iris is going to be such a mama bear to those babies. She’s scarier than all of us put together when she’s pissed.” And Iris also had some pretty incredible powers. We’d seen her turn someone inside out before with her magic. And while it wasn’t something she could do at the drop of a hat, she was not just any Finnish house sprite. She was also a high priestess of Undutar, with the tattoos and the scars—both physical and emotional—to prove it.

I scooted up, so I was resting half against the pillows, half against the back of the sofa, and took Shade’s hand. I was starting to feel sleepy, and as he caressed my fingers in silence, the idea of a quickie crossed my mind. But before I could say anything, weariness took over, and the toll of the wound hit me. I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.

The next thing I knew, I was blinking to a thin stream of sunlight flickering through the curtains. As I shifted position, trying to cover my eyes, I realized that Shade had carried me up to our bedroom. He had arranged me on the bed so I wouldn’t have a crick in my neck or lie on my injured hand or something that would have left me hurting when I woke up. I squinted against the glow, shaking my head as I yawned and rolled up to a sitting position.

Shade was in the recliner, his feet propped up, a soft smile playing around his lips as he watched me. He was wearing a black turtleneck, khaki cargo pants, and a golden hoop in one ear. A hunger in my belly woke up—it had been a couple days since we’d had a chance for sex. As I pushed back the blankets, my tank top brushed against my breasts, and I caught my breath. He noticed, and the soft smile turned seductive.

“Morning, pussycat.” And with that, he was sitting next to me, his arm around my waist. “Mmm, you’re all tousled and warm and soft.” His breath tickled against my ear and I turned so he could kiss me with those thick, gentle lips. As he pulled me to him, pressing me back against the tangled pile of covers and pillows, I wanted nothing more than to slip out of the pajama bottoms and draw him between my legs.

As I lingered in his kiss, a sudden thought struck me and I gently pushed him away. “Iris—how is she? Did she—”

“Have her other baby? Yes.” Shade laughed and helped me stand up. “And after you’ve had a shower and we’ve dressed your wound, you can go see the little mother and her twins. Those two have healthy lungs on them, that’s for sure. You must have been exhausted, to sleep through all of the racket we had after the boy came.”

“What did she name them?”

“I’ll let her tell you that. I don’t want to spoil her fun.” Shade disappeared into the bathroom. A moment later he returned with a plastic bag. “We’ll tape this around your hand. You don’t want to get that wound wet, except for when we clean it. We’re going to have to irrigate it. Camille gave me the instructions for your aftercare that the healers provided on your release.”

I hadn’t remembered that I’d been officially released. Too much had gone down with Chrysandra’s death, and Menolly’s meltdown. Shrugging out of my PJ bottoms and tank top, I padded toward the bathroom. As a rule, I took as quick showers as I could, and I never took baths. I detested water. The tabby cat side of me equated baths with punishments, but I also liked being clean and, except for the times when I was Tabby, I couldn’t very well groom myself with my tongue.

But before I could reach the door, Shade waylaid me. “You feeling better?” He pressed his lips to my neck and, once again, the fire took hold.

I stopped in my tracks, then turned and draped my arms around his neck. “I want you.”

I’d become a lot less hesitant about sex over the months with him. Chase and I’d never quite been the right fit, and Zachary and I hadn’t stood a chance in hell, but Shade had taught me how to let go of my insecurities and become confident in my sensual side. Together with the Autumn Lord—who worked through him—the pair had brought me into my own sexually. One day I was destined to bear the Autumn Lord’s child, and Shade would be the father. We were a triad. I belonged to both of them, the way that Camille belonged to her three men.

Shade wrapped his arms around my waist, his lips pressing against mine, and I lingered in his embrace. His hands were soft against my skin, but the strength in his fingers gave me security, and I knew that as long as he was with me, he’d do everything he could to protect me and my family. Dragons were like that—they protected their own.

He slid his hands up my back, and I was suddenly ravenous. I bit his lip, sucking gently, as he slid one knee between my legs. Opening to him, I trembled as the hunger began to swell. Panther was rising, and she wanted her mate. I put my good hand against his chest and walked him backward toward the bed.

Shade let out a low chuckle as he fell back on the mattress, leaning on his hands as his eyes grazed me from head to toe. “You are so beautiful, my delicious pussycat.”

“Pussy is hungry.” My voice low, I motioned to his chest. “Shirt. Off. Now.”

He obligingly pulled off his turtleneck, exposing those glorious pecs of his and the six-pack abs that looked so good on men. Shade was built, his chest muscular and thick. Thick applied to other vital areas of his body, too.

I let out a low growl, the hunger rising. “Pants, too.”

As he unbuckled his belt, the hunger turned to ache, and I leaped on the bed, wrapping my arms around his chest as he kicked off his pants. He was already hard and waiting, and I slid my hand down his chest to that dark, delicious cock that was rising out of the thatch of honey-colored hair. As I took him in hand, he let out a groan and started to turn.

With a whisper, I squeezed just hard enough to make him stop. “Let me explore your body. I want to touch you.” I swung around, off the bed, and knelt in front of him. He was barefoot, and I leaned down and gently kissed the tops of his feet, then trailed a line of kisses up the inside of his legs, alternating sides. Here and there, I nipped with my fangs, not enough to draw blood but enough for him to jump ever so slightly.

As I approached his thighs, placing my hands on the glowing skin, the strength of his quads rippled beneath my fingers and once again, I caught my breath at how beautiful this man was. He was not perfect, he had a number of scars, but there was a beauty of their own in those craggy reminders of battles past, a history of his life. I knew very little about his background, but slowly, in bits and pieces, he had begun to give up his secrets.

I trailed my fingernails gently over the taut skin as he spread he legs, and then I leaned in, slowly licking the length of his cock, drawing my tongue up the shaft, tasting his musk. I had to be cautious—nonretractable fangs meant I could do a lot of damage to a man, but Shade was half dragon, and it took more than the average slip of the tooth to inflict pain. I slowly placed my lips on the head, gently slid them over the top, my mouth open just enough so that the tips of my fangs barely grazed the skin as I swallowed him, deep into my throat.

He let out another groan and leaned back on the bed, his hands coming down to hold my head as I worked him, licking, sucking, sliding my tongue down the length of his shaft. I cupped his balls, then pressed my lips to the sensitive area that lay between them and his penis. He was thick, hard as a rock, with the veins ridging up, and he was driving me crazy.

“Enough. Get your ass up here.” He leaned down and, hands beneath my arms, lifted me up and rolled me over so I was beneath him. His lips sought my breast, leaving a wake of kisses down my neck as he fastened onto my nipple. Sucking hard, he nipped just enough to make me yelp, then his lips continued their path down my skin, across my stomach, setting off a wash of explosions that spread from my pussy outward.

He nuzzled me, his lips pressing gently against my clit as he flicked his tongue around in circles, sliding two fingers inside me to stroke against the inner walls. I was slick, moist with wanting him, but before I could beg him to get the hell inside me, the roar in my head increased as his tongue became more insistent, and I found myself laughing as I came, the stress releasing in joy rather than tears. The shock of another jolt hit as I came again, but still he continued.

As the laughter died, I began to build up again, this time a serious, dark rolling thunder that echoed through me, sucking me under. The strength of his hands on my hips, the unrelenting stroke of his tongue gave me no chance to catch my breath, and so I rode the rising surf, teetering precariously as thought vanished, and only sensation remained. And then, a pause, just one second of clear thought and back under as a series of explosions ricocheted through my body, echoing out in concentric circles. I found myself floating in a space where I wasn’t sure if I was alive or dead, whether I was even breathing.

And then, slowly, the world came back into focus.

I exhaled as Shade loomed over me. With his gaze locked to mine, he slid between my legs, searching for entrance. As he thrust himself inside me, deep and penetrating, the room began to spin again, and we moved slowly, his hips swiveling against me. Full, stretched, I sank into the hunger that blossomed again.

“Harder . . .” My voice was hoarse, desperate. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop. Fuck me hard.” As the sex haze reclaimed me, I went under for the third time, a woman drowning in a sea of air.

Shade groaned, his eyes flashing as his skin warmed mine. Emboldened by his heat, I grabbed his shoulders and rolled him over, straddling him as I sank onto his cock, my head back as I rode him hard. He grabbed my waist, holding me firm as I leaned over him, my breast above his mouth. He tilted up, took my nipple in his mouth as my clit rubbed against the base of his cock.

Before I could peak again, Shade lifted me and rolled off the bed with me. We tumbled to the floor in a pile of blankets and I twisted over onto one hand—my good one—and knees. I braced my right elbow on a stack of books, keeping my injured hand safe.

Shade knelt in back of me, sliding his cock into my cunt, and as he began to thrust, Panther rose, not shifting me, but driving me on. I felt her staring through my eyes, and I looked up and there was Hi’ran, the Autumn Lord. My passion and my Liege, towering over us.

He held out his hands, and the smell of bonfire smoke rolled from them as the heart of the harvest ran through my blood. Hi’ran’s energy sparked a flame so dark that it quenched every sensation of light except for the fires raging around us. Shade let out a low moan, for Hi’ran was also his master.

Together, the three of us formed a circle of death, a circle of life. We existed within a cloud of passion, cloaked in the swirling mists of the eternal autumn. The energy crackled around us, until—with a flash of lightning—the storm broke and I went soaring over the edge, crying out as I once again lost myself in the tumble of orgasm.

When I opened my eyes, I was sprawled in the pile of sheets, and Shade had rolled to the side. He was staring at me through veiled eyes, a gentle smile playing at the corners of his lips.

“Wow.” I exhaled slowly. “That was . . . wow.”

“Took the words out of my mouth, babe.” He shoved a pillow under his head, then held out his arms and I rolled into them. “For an arranged relationship, I think we clean it up pretty damned good.”

“From your lips to my heart.” After a moment, I untangled myself from the warm nest and stood up. “Time to get myself scrubbed down and go see Iris.”

Shade fixed the plastic bag over my bandage and I padded into the bathroom, grabbing my pumpkin spice shower gel on the way. I never lingered in the water, but sometimes the scents kept me under longer than the minimum required time to get clean. I lathered up, washed my hair, and then quickly toweled off and used my blow dryer to whip my short, spiky do into submission.

Shade made me sit quietly while he removed the dressing on my hand. The wound wasn’t big, not in the scheme of things, but still a sizable chunk when viewed against the base of my thumb where it had come from. The dreglin had chomped down on the part of my hand right below my thumb, and the exposed wound was violent and red. The gaping hole oozed, but the wound hadn’t spread and that alone told me the antivenin and magic were working. But it looked so gross that it turned my stomach.

As he irrigated the wound, I bit my tongue against the pain, which was bad enough for me to want to kick him a good one. He then applied more of the salve and dressed it, unfazed. Afterward, he taped up the bandage and motioned for me to stand up.

“Let’s go see Iris. Then, Camille said you are due to go visit some park? What’s that all about?”

As we headed down the steps, I said, “We didn’t have a chance to tell anybody what went on when we got back last night. Wait till we’re all downstairs and we’ll fill you in. For now, though, I want to go see those babies.”

The sun was still peeking through the clouds as we headed out the kitchen door. A pale glow hovered over our land, and the leaves that were still on the trees glistened. The raindrops from the night before that clung to the leaves and branches cast prisms as the sunbeams flickered through them. I inhaled the aroma of wood smoke from both houses. It was a comforting scent, caught up on the wind that gusted through. A gaggle of geese flew south, their mournful calls echoing in the morning air. Winter was on the way, and a sudden chill washed over me with a prescience of the dark days of the year looming down.

Bruce and Iris’s house was beautiful. A tidy cottage, the two-story bungalow looked cozy, a pale blue with cream-colored trim. It had old-world charm, even though it was brand-spanking-new. The guys had done an excellent job on it, and every nail had been driven with care.

“Who’s going to take care of Iris while she’s recovering? Hanna’s needed at our place.” We were heading through the backyard, and it saddened me to see the gardens lying dormant now, barren and fallow for the winter.

“Iris has help, don’t you worry about that. Her mother-in-law arrived this morning to look after her, along with a retinue. At Camille’s request, a new group of guards came through the portal from Otherworld. Elves, from Elqaneve. They’ll be posted around the clock to keep an eye on the O’Shea household.”

“Her mother-in-law?” I remembered Bruce’s mother. She was a lovely woman—a leprechaun like her husband and children—but there was a tiger hidden beneath that refined, gentle surface and I knew that I’d never want to piss her off. I hoped, for Iris’s sake, that they got along.

“Um hmm. By the way, her title is the Duchess O’Shea. Somehow, we missed out on using the correct address during the wedding, and it did not go unnoticed. I was informed in no uncertain terms this morning that we better correct that.” Shade snorted, but the look in his eyes told me that the title wasn’t for show.

“Who the hell told you that? The Leprechaun brigade?”

“Smoky. And he was serious.”

I blinked. “Who knew? Well . . . so Mrs. Mother-of-Bruce is actually a duchess? Bruce’s parents are a duke and duchess?” I knew they were wealthy beyond anything we’d experienced, but I had no idea they were nobility. Bruce’s father was a lush, that much had become apparent during their stay back in February. A nice lush, but a lush.

“That’s right. In the Leprechaun Court, they are definitely among the titled. Bruce is officially Lord Bruce Golden Eagle O’Shea. Quite a mouthful, though I’m not sure how it all fits together, and I’ve learned it’s better not to ask. Leprechaun lore is guarded close to the heart among their people.”

He stopped as we reached the cottage. Two steps led up to a spacious porch, with a swing just like on ours. Iris had a massive kitchen herb garden growing in pots that lined the edge of the railing.

As we reached to knock, the door opened. Bruce peeked out. He looked exhausted, but happy, and a giddy smile spread across the curly-headed leprechaun’s face as he stood back to let us in. He looked like Elijah Wood, only with darker hair and finer features.

I flashed back to Iris’s first date with Bruce, when he still dressed like a frat boy and had vomited on her feet after drinking too much booze. But now, he was a professor at the University of Washington, and the head of Irish Studies there. And he seemed to like dressing the part, with his tweed blazers and pleated pants.

He ushered us in to the living room, and there sat our beloved Iris. She was in the rocking chair, her ankle-length flaxen hair neatly braided around her head, and she wore a lace nightgown and robe. Her spiraling tattoos that bordered her face and trailed down her neck glowed with an indigo hue. Bruce stood behind her, his hands on the top of the rocking chair.

On the luxurious jacquard sofa sat Mrs. O’Shea. As in Bruce’s mother. As in, apparently, the Duchess. The regal air she’d sported at Iris’s wedding had only increased and she was dressed in a rich forest green gown with a delicate golden tiara crowning her wheat-colored hair. I could see where Bruce got his looks—it certainly hadn’t been from his father. At either side of the Duchess O’Shea sat a nurse, each holding one of the babies. Obviously, Bruce’s mother wasn’t a woman who dove in and did everything herself.

I curtseyed to her. “Duchess O’Shea, welcome to our land.”

She eyed me up and down, then gently smiled and extended her hand. “The hosts of my son’s home are always a welcome sight.”

Iris started to stand but I dropped to my knees by her side and shook my head. “No you don’t, little mama. You stay in your seat and rest. I’m sorry I couldn’t be here earlier but I . . .” I didn’t want to bring up my injury but Iris wasn’t stupid.

She pointed to my hand. “Yes, I’ve heard the story. Dreglins are dangerous. I’m glad you went to the healer. So, are you going to introduce yourself to my children, Kitten? Or do I have to do it for you?” Her smile broadened, the pride in her voice echoing through the room. For the Talon-haltija, the Finnish house sprites, motherhood was a high honor. And to be a priestess who was also a mother had to be pretty much at the top of the list.

I scooted over to the sofa. The babies were tiny, definitely tinier than FBH babies, but they were perfect and petite and lovely. I cooed over them for a moment—the girl was swaddled in a violet blanket, the boy in one that was sky blue. They were both awake, and their eyes—the same brilliant blue as Iris’s—seemed to search my face. They were going to be smart, that much I could tell right off the start.

“You did good, Iris. What are their names?” I glanced back at Iris, flashing her a thumbs-up sign.

She giggled. “You’ll laugh, but . . .”

“No, I won’t laugh.” I started to say “I promise,” but I knew better than that. Knowing Iris, their names could be just about anything. And somehow, I doubted Bruce had had much say in the matter, his duchess-mother or not. I glanced over at him, and the soft grin on his face confirmed my suspicions.

Iris set down her teacup and joined me, wincing slightly as she walked. She leaned over the little girl and softly kissed her tiny forehead.

“This . . . this is my beloved Maria.” She gave me a long smile and a well of tears swelled up from my throat. I gazed at her silently, unable to speak. Our mother’s name . . . she’d given her baby our mother’s name. At my look, she whispered, “I wanted to honor your family—because the three of you girls are part of my family.”

Biting my lip I looked back at the baby. “Hello, Maria. Welcome to the world, little one. You have the bravest mother you could ever hope to have.”

Iris chuckled. “Well, I would give my life for them, that is a surety. The boy, my strapping lad, is Ukkonen. I named him after the Sky Father, and after the wind. He will be a musician, I think. Perhaps a bard.”

Laughing, I tried to keep from startling the babies. “You know all of that, already?”

“I do.” She nodded emphatically. “And my daughter . . . my daughter will follow in my footsteps and serve the Lady of the Mists. Undutar has already spoken to me about this. Maria will be raised as an Earthside priestess. She will not go to the Northlands like I did.” Her voice darkened. “No one, save for the goddess herself, could force me to give up my children the way I was snatched away from my home.”

“Ukkonen and Maria. Iris, you did good, love. You did good.” And then, I burst into tears and hugged her gently. When we’d first met her, she’d been under a curse, with a tortured past we had only learned about in dribs and drabs. Now, the curse was broken and she was getting her happy ending. Or at least, as happy as any of us could ever hope for.

“You get up to the house now, Kitten. Camille is waiting for you, and I need to rest.” Iris returned to the rocking chair.

I stood, slowly, not wanting to leave. It felt like her life was moving along a different path than ours. Logically, I knew it was just that she was finding her niche. She was here, her home was here, and Bruce was more than happy to share his wife with us. But I still felt like things had shifted so far from the safe, tight-knit group we’d started as. Leaning down, I kissed Iris on the cheek.

“Little mama, if you need anything, anything at all, just let us know. Rest now.” As Shade and I left her house, I looked up at the sky. Once more, clouds were coming in, thick and dark. A storm was on the horizon and I could feel it in my bones.