The Men of Otherworld: Collection One (8 page)

“Why isn’t she back to normal?” Shade glanced at Camille.

“I don’t know. That should have turned her back…Maybe.”

“What do you mean
maybe
?”

She shrugged. “The spell I used originally was the bilocation spell. It backfired. This was a basic spell to break another spell. Apparently it’s not working. Another backfire, I guess. Or it just won’t work on a spell that backfired.” Camille picked up Delilah and held her up in the air by the belly. “You’re so cute! You’re so pretty—what a pretty girl!”

“Camille!” Shade stopped as she turned around, her eyes narrowed.
Oops
, not a good idea to yell at one of the women who allowed him to live in her house. Especially since she was married to a full-blooded dragon. “I’m sorry. I’m just…What are we going to do?”

“My guess is that she’ll change back when she’s ready. Or the spell wears off. And it will wear off. That much I know. I just don’t happen to know
when
.”

Shade stared at her, his mouth open. “How long could it take?”

Camille shrugged, giving Delilah another kiss on the head. “The longest time one of my backfires took to wear off—the time I made my clothes invisible—was a week.” Before Shade could say another word, she shoved Delilah in his arms. “We’d better get going. Don’t worry! I’m sure it will wear off before the weekend’s over. Just watch her closely and keep her out of trouble.”

And with that, Camille darted out the door, followed by Menolly, leaving Shade alone holding his fiancée by the collar.

Shade stared at the door as it slammed shut behind them. What the hell was he supposed to do now? He glanced down at Delilah, who was squirming in his arms, trying to get free. The next moment, she playfully sank her claws into him. Startled, he let go. As she hit the floor, four paws running, she darted off toward the laundry room.

“Delilah! Delilah, you come back here.” Shade started to chase after her, then forced himself to stop. It wasn’t like she hadn’t run around in cat form plenty of other times. Chances were good that if he chased her, she’d stress out. And stressing out would be counterproductive to the end goal, which was: Delilah on two feet, again.
 

He decided to fix himself a sandwich while he waited. As he filled his arms with turkey breast and bread and mayo and tomatoes, a crash made him jump. Tossing the food on the counter, he raced toward the noise, which sounded like it was coming from Hanna’s room.
 

“Hell, what now? They didn’t forget to take Maggie with them, did they?” At first, he thought maybe he was right, but then he saw the playpen, tipped over. Delilah was struggling to drag one of the toys out from it. She loved the soft cloth balls the gargoyle played with, and apparently, she was determined to steal one. Apparently, she’d miscalculated her jump and caught the edge of the playpen, turning it on its side.
 

Shade righted the playpen and, with a sigh, tossed one of the balls into the hallway for Delilah to chase. As his girlfriend streaked out of the room, he muttered, “Damned cat,” under his breath and finished tidying up the mess she’d made. But as he was replacing the last toy in the playpen, another crash sounded, this time from the living room.
 

“Delilah! What the hell are you getting into now?”
 

As Shade made a beeline for the noise, Camille’s image raced through his mind.
I hope she falls in a patch of poison ivy
, he thought uncharitably. But the wish slipped away as yet another loud thud caught his attention.

Two hours later, Shade had cleaned up the harvest decorations twice, swept up a broken vase, spot-cleaned a hairball off the sofa, and had wrestled his turkey sandwich—which he’d finally managed to slap together—away from a very determined feline. Finally, he gave up and opened the back door as Delilah howled to go outside.

“Fine, go. Play. Don’t get yourself in any trouble.”
 

She bounded out to the back porch and down the steps.

“So much for a romantic evening in front of the fire. Damn it, this is all Camille’s fault.” But inside, Shade knew he couldn’t blame the witch. Delilah was the one who asked her to try it. And when you got down to the core of the matter, if Delilah hadn’t been torn about wanting to go to the barrow with the rest of the family, if Shade had given in and gone with them, this wouldn’t have happened. They could easily be taking an evening stroll through the woods right now.

Turning back to the kitchen, Shade opened a can of cat food and set it down, then dashed up stairs to sift the litter box. They were in this situation together, so he’d do what he could. Maybe they could salvage part of the weekend. It was still only Friday night.

Friday night!
Why hadn’t he thought of it before? Shade stepped into the back yard and, standing in the rain, called for Delilah. After a few minutes, she came racing up, wild eyed but happy. He scooped her up and carried her inside. Her heart was thudding from the run, but when she reached up and excitedly licked his nose, purring, Shade couldn’t help but laugh.
 

“Come on, Minx. Time for Jerry Springer and Cheetos.”
 

He knew the way to her heart. As he grabbed the bag of snacks off the counter and carried her into the living room where the TV was tuned into the Talk Show Channel, he hoped this would be enough to coax her back to her regular form. He settled down, trying not to grimace as the crowd began to shout,
“Jerry! Jerry! Jerry!”
 

Delilah curled up beside him. He held out a Cheeto and she sniffed it, then bit into it, smearing her cheek fur with the bright orange powder.
 

“You love this show, don’t you, Kitten? I don’t see what’s so hot about Springer, but hey, whatever floats your boat. Or squeaks your mouse, as the case may be.”
 

She sprawled out, draping over his lap, and he softly stroked her fur, smiling as she purred loud enough to rival a motorboat. But, by the end of the show, she was still in cat form. Shade let out a sigh and glanced at the clock. It was only eleven, but who knew? Maybe a good night’s sleep would do the trick, and he could use sleep, as well.

“To bed, pumpkin?”
 

She
purped
, gazing up at him with wide emerald eyes. Making certain the house was locked, he draped her over his shoulder and headed upstairs. As he settled down in bed, missing her soft skin beneath his fingers, Delilah slowly padded across the covers. She crawled on his side, curled up, and promptly fell asleep.

Around 4:00 AM, Shade woke up. Something was wrong. Delilah wasn’t in bed—in either form—and he had the sense that something was amiss. Slipping out from beneath the covers, he put on his slippers, then slid on his robe and tied it shut. As he reached for the light, wary and trying to listen for whatever might be setting off his internal alarm, a yowl split the silence, followed by another.
 

Delilah! And she sounded in pain.

Shade turned on the light, whirling to see where the cries were coming from. But then, he realized, they were echoing from downstairs. He headed toward the door on the run, trying to pinpoint where her hisses and screams were coming from.
 

“Delilah! Where are you? Delilah!”

Thudding down the steps, he realized that she was in the kitchen.
Fuck, what had happened?
Had she hurt herself? He raced into the room, slamming his hand against the light switch. As the lights flared, he saw Delilah facing what looked like a mottled gray gremlin. It had wings, very bat-like, and looked a little like Maggie, except for the tiny horns on its head, and the jutting horn on its snout.
 

“Delilah! Get away from there—those creatures can—” Before he could catch her, she gave one final swipe at the gremlin and it swiped back at her, its claws raking her side. She let out another ear piercing shriek as faint lines of red began to dapple her fur.

“Oh no you don’t!” Shade leapt forward, grappling the creature. The gremlin tried to bite him but he squeezed its throat—hard—and cleanly snapped its neck. As he dropped it, Delilah huddled down, hissing and yowling. The cuts were bleeding—not swiftly, but they looked painful. Shade knew that gremlins didn’t carry any venom or toxin, but he also knew that the claws were extremely sharp and he had to get Delilah to a doctor right away.

Not sure what to do first, he finally settled for grabbing her cell phone out of her pack where she’d left it, and he punched in the number for the FH-CSI. Within moments, Yugi—the second in command—came on line.
 

“Give me the medic unit, quick. This is Shade.”

Yugi transferred him and and Mallen came on line.
 

“I need your help. Delilah’s been hurt.”

“What happened?”

“A gremlin injured her.” Shade was frantic now, trying to keep his attention on Delilah while he talked to the healer.

The elf cleared his throat. “That shouldn’t be too bad—bring her in.”

“She’s in cat form and it looks very painful.”

“Cat form?” Another beat, and then Mallen let out a sigh. “Can you catch her? I’m dealing with several emergencies tonight, and can’t get away. Or you can take her to a vet. There has to be an all night clinic nearby.”

“A vet. You want me to take Delilah to the
vet
?” Shade frowned.
 

Delilah perked up at the word. Her eyes narrowed and she glanced around, as if ready to bolt.

“Yes, I just looked one up on line. There’s an all night emergency clinic just half a mile from you—you can make it there faster than you can get here. The wait probably won’t be as long. We’re fending with the aftermath of a car wreck tonight and we have four wounded Fae, two critically injured Weres and one very pissed off vampire.” Mallen sounded overwhelmed. “If she’s not in life-threatening danger, it would be very helpful if you could just…take her to the vet. He’s Fae, it says on the web site.”

Shade mumbled an “Okay,” and punched the End Talk button. There was a cat carrier in the laundry room. Iris had used it often enough to corral Delilah when she was causing havoc, but Shade had his doubts whether Delilah had ever been to a veterinarian’s office. Be that as it may, it was obvious she knew what the word meant.

“Delilah, honey, you’re hurt. I need to get you to a doctor.” He slowly moved toward her. She hissed and pulled away, baring her teeth. This wasn’t going to be easy. “Come on, baby. Just hold still.”
 

As he lunged forward, she sprang off the counter, still meowing, and raced out of the room, though not nearly as quickly as she’d been running before, leaving a trail of blood drops behind her. Swearing, Shade softly followed. He didn’t want to wind her up—she could hurt herself far worse that way. But he had to catch her.

Another go round and she headed upstairs. He shifted through the Ionyc Sea to the top of the steps, but she managed to dart past him into the bedroom. Cursing, he followed, just in time to see her crawl under the bed.
 

“Delilah, come out of there.” Shade closed the door. At least she couldn’t get out of the room. He closed the closet door, too, but left the door to the bathroom open. If she ran in there, she’d be easier to corner.

Dropping to his hands and knees, he leaned down and peeked under the bed. She was hunched in the center. And with a king-sized bed, that meant he couldn’t reach her. He might be tall but his arms weren’t gorilla length. Nor could he scoot beneath the bed.

They eyed each other for awhile. Delilah let out a faint mew and it tore his heart that she was too hurt and frightened to let him help. In her state, she was probably thinking with her cat-self, than her human-Fae side. But, still, he ached to think that she didn’t trust him.

“Delilah, honey—we need to take you to the doctor. Please, come out. Please trust me. I wouldn’t do this except you’re hurt. Mallen said you need to be seen by a doctor. We don’t want those wounds infected.” He spoke softy, trying to coax her out.

After a few minutes it was apparent she wasn’t going to budge.
 

Shade pushed himself to a sitting position. What could he use to get her out? He glanced around the room, and then saw the plant mister. He’d used it on occasion when she got too rambunctious and he wanted her to quit bugging him. Now, he picked it up and leaned over so she could see him.
 

“I don’t want to have to use this. Delilah, come out of there.” He shook the bottle.
 

The water sloshed. Delilah let out another mew and began to back toward the other side of the bed. As he shook it again, she popped out the other side and headed for the door. Without pausing, Shade dropped the mister and once again, shifted through the Ionyc Seas, emerging behind her. If she tried to race back under the bed, she’d have to go around him.
 

She darted to the left, but he was faster this time and caught her up, trying to avoid hurting her further. Delilah let out a soft cry, then snuggled against him. Shade carried her downstairs where she reluctantly allowed him put her in the carrier. As they headed out into the night, he was grateful he’d gotten his license and could drive her Jeep. Otherwise it would be a cold, blustery walk in the rain.

The vet stared at Delilah. “Last time I saw her, she was six feet tall.” He let out a laugh. “She brought in a couple of mice for treatment.”

Not only was the vet aware of who Delilah was, but Mallen had been correct: He was Earthside Fae.
 

“She’s under a spell that backfired. Either she can’t—or won’t—turn back. A gremlin snagged her a good one.” Shade frowned. “She’ll be okay, won’t she, doc?”

Dr. Burberry listened to her heart and then gently examined the scratches. “I’ll get you some salve for these so they’ll heal up without infection. She’s lucky. The gremlin didn’t scratch terribly deep. That and the fact that she’s a Were made all the difference. If she were just a regular cat? She’d probably need to be hospitalized.” He paused, then a sly grin stole across his face. “You say she can’t turn back just yet? What a pity. Oh, but I forgot—I really need to take her temperature.” He winked at Shade and held up the thermometer. “Hold her while I grab her tail, won’t you?”