"That she could have." I gently pushed Delilah's bangs out of her eyes. "Maybe while we're here, we can find out more about her family—our family."
All my instincts warned me that would be a mistake, but right now Delilah needed reassurance. Of the three of us, she missed our mother most. I was the oldest; I'd taken over when Mother died. Menolly was born independent. But Delilah… Delilah had clung to Mother's skirts for a long time before cautiously making her way into the world.
She wrinkled her nose. "I think humans must have bravery in their blood, don't you? After all, Mother followed Father home to a world she'd never known existed until he told her about it. That took courage."
"Don't forget how she managed to make herself welcome in OW, not an easy task for a full-blood human." In fact, it was damned amazing. Very few FBHs had ever made an impact on the Court. I shrugged into my coat. Like most of my clothes, I preferred the dramatic and had found a gorgeous vintage black opera coat in a consignment shop on Pike Street. It had been a steal at thirty dollars. "You're a romantic, Delilah. You always have been. All fluff and kittens and hearts."
"Hey! I can be a real tiger when I want to." She handed me my handbag, a beaded affair that matched the opera coat, and sniffed. "I just prefer to sheath my claws unless necessary."
I laughed. "Oh sweetie, don't fret. You're just as brave as our mother was. We all are. We left our home for a new world, just like she did. And our work is helping OW in the process."
"We're explorers," she said with a grin, which showed off the tips of her fangs. Unlike vampires' fangs, Delilah's weren't retractable. She received a lot of attention from men who liked dangerous women.
"Adventurers!" I countered, returning her smile.
"Lackeys in a two-bit government agency that thinks we're deadwood!" She thrust her arms in the air in a victory salute.
I sobered. "Too close to the truth for comfort. The OIA's as slow as a lumbering sloth, and one of these days, that will be its downfall. While we're on the subject, don't forget to add that we're crazy out of our minds for accepting this post." A movement outside the window caught my attention. "Here comes Chase. He looks worried."
The buzzer sounded as Chase hurried in. "Sorry I'm late," he said, his voice brusque and not inviting conversation. "I contacted HQ again, but save your questions till we're all together and in a secure place."
"Ready to go?"
He nodded. Delilah swung off the counter and slipped on her bomber jacket. At a hair over six feet and wearing tight jeans and stiletto boots, she was a sight to behold—both impressive and intimidating. After arming the security system, we headed for our respective cars.
The house in which we lived was a huge old Victorian, three stories high not counting the basement. Menolly slept there, hiding from the sun. I lived on the second story, and Delilah took the third. We shared the main floor, eating our meals together. Well, Delilah and I ate. Menolly just kept us company.
Set toward the back on five acres of land and next to a strip of woodland that led down to a large pond, the place hadn't come cheap. Lucky for us, Father had stockpiled a good sum of dollars from his time Earthside, keeping it in a secret account started years ago in a bank that had managed to keep itself afloat during the intervening decades. He gave it to us when we were assigned to this post, and over the years, interest had accrued. Along with the accounts Mother had left, we had enough to buy the house, furnish it, and keep ourselves going in a simple but comfortable fashion.
By tradition, we'd been given our mother's last name, even though she was human, and years ago, when we were born, Mother had insisted on getting Social Security cards for us. Father had brought her back Earthside to fill out the documents, and so when we'd arrived for our new posts, we'd been able to set up bank accounts and—after a lot of nail biting and practice—get our driver's licenses.
Thanks to our parents' foresight, we'd dodged one of the worst fates an Earthside OIA agent could be subjected to: living in one of the OIA's convenience suites. Read: slang for a cheap room in one of the roach-infested hotels owned and operated by agency flunkies.
Only OIA members were allowed to live there; a subtle way of keeping humans out of the loop, but not so subtle in reminding agents that they were a long ways from home and that the OIA owned their butts. Of course some operatives—giants like Jocko, and some of the goblins—were overjoyed with the conditions. They were used to living in hovels or caves that would make a skunk turn up its nose, but to the Sidhe, the grunge was positively appalling.
The drive into Seattle was the one drawback to living in Belles-Faire. It took half an hour to commute into the city in the morning, and another thirty minutes at night, if traffic was light. We were also five miles away from the nearest portal, which was hidden out in the woods, protected by one of the Hags of Fate. So slipping back to OW wasn't our first option should trouble arise. Otherwise, we had privacy, comfort, and a place where I could grow the herbs I needed for my spells.
Delilah kept down the mouse population, although she always complained they gave her indigestion. Another perk that came with living on the edge of a grimy suburb was that it made it easier for Menolly to hunt undetected. She did her best to confine herself to the dregs—thieves and the like—but I suspected that Chase would be pretty pissed if he really knew how she got her meals. We'd told him that she hunted stray animals. Which to us was close to the truth, considering the scum she went after.
I headed toward the porch as Delilah jumped out of her truck. Chase was close behind. I turned around and called back to her, "Why don't you get Chase a drink while I wake up Menolly?"
Chase looked like he wanted to protest, but then he shrugged and followed Delilah into the living room.
I slipped through the secret passage in the kitchen when I was sure he couldn't see me. We'd hidden the entrance to the basement for Menolly's safety—there wasn't much she could do in her sleep to protect herself. My skin prickled as I quietly tiptoed down the stairs. Sneaking into a vampire's lair was never a delight, even when the vamp in question was my own sister.
At least Menolly stayed away from stereotypes. The walls of the basement were painted a muted ivory, and she'd chosen a sage green toile for her bed linens and chair seats. She'd gotten the idea from an old episode of Trading Spaces, and by the results, it made me think she should go into interior design. But then, Menolly had an artistic bent. Unlike a number of vamps, she eschewed the tacky and kept herself meticulously clean, both in body and clothing.
She slept in a real bed, not a coffin, and we'd fashioned a blood room, accessible through a ventilation shaft, where she could hose herself off after feeding so she wouldn't track stains into the house. I appreciated her neatness, since most of the housework fell on my shoulders. Delilah always managed to conveniently stress out when it came time for chores, and Menolly did what she could at night, but even she had her limits for dusting and vacuuming. I kept asking the OIA to assign us a housekeeper. Probably a pipe dream, but I could fantasize, couldn't I?
As I approached the bed, I gauged my distance. Long scars forever embedded in my arm were a good reminder of the power a waking vamp could wield. After the first time, I stayed out of reach. Of course Menolly felt horrible about it, and I wasn't one to hold a grudge. But I wasn't stupid either, and now I stood well away from the bed whenever it was time to wake her up.
"Menolly? Menolly?"
The waxen expression on her face stirred. Lovely and delicate, there wasn't a wrinkle in sight, and there never would be. She was far too pale, of course, but there was nothing we could do about it. We'd tried a bronzer for her skin, but it just turned her a bad shade of orange to match her hair—clouds of burnished strands caught up in dozens of beaded braids. Bo Derek of the vampire set. We watched a lot of old movies to catch up on pop culture.
"Huh?" She shot straight up in bed, blinking, and I jumped. Once bitten, twice shy. Her eyes shifted to red, then back to frost blue when she saw me standing there.
"Camille? Is it time to get up already?" She squinted at the clock. "Barely six thirty? Has the sun gone down?"