Emme helped me fasten my clip. “What do you think is happening to them? We know they’re draining the men, but . . .”
Taran shut the cover closed over her iPad. She brushed her hands over her arms as if something crawled along her skin. “I’d rather not think about it, Emme.”
There was a lot I didn’t want to think about. The fate of the women. The last few breaths of the men. How I’d fallen in love with a werewolf who hunted the supernasties of the world. And how his Elders held him responsible for it all.
I grabbed my purse and huge lunch sack, pausing when I caught Taran continuing to hug herself. “Are the nightmares back?”
She stared blankly out the window. “They haven’t left, Celia. They’re just getting more vivid.”
I moved to stand next to her. “Do you talk to Gemini about them?”
“Not really. They don’t happen much when he’s around.” Taran wiped the crease of her lid, removing a bit of eye shadow that had smeared. Makeup seemed like too much work. That’s why I never bothered. She examined the charcoal color on her fingertips. “I’m not looking forward to the night without him.”
“He makes you feel safe, doesn’t he?”
Taran snatched the keys off the table. “Yeah. Even when I dream of demons raping me.”
I stepped in front of her and held out my hand, trying to ignore Emme’s and Shayna’s gasps. We’d suspected what her nightmares entailed. But Taran hadn’t confirmed our fears until now. They must have worsened in the past few weeks. “Why don’t you let me drive today?”
Her glare prepared me to argue. Instead she nodded and handed me the keys to our Tribeca. I didn’t like seeing Taran so shaken. Thank God Mrs. Mancuso was around to lift our spirits.
“Whores!”
I leaned my head against the car. We’d almost made it safely into the cabin. Taran stepped into the car and leaned her arm against the opened window. “You got that right, Mancuso. By the way, your grandson sends his love.”
For a woman in her eighties, Mrs. Mancuso was quite agile. She chased after our car all the while flipping us off. Emme clutched the headrest of the backseat. “Oh my goodness. Celia, slow down before she breaks a hip.”
I didn’t care what Emme said. A glance at the mirror told me slowing down ranked up there with mooning a weregator. We might as well have kicked our own asses. Mrs. Mancuso was a woman possessed by fury and ill-fitting support hose.
Taran threw back her head, laughing. “That’s not funny, Taran,” Emme insisted. “I know you’d feel terrible if she did break her hip.”
No. She wouldn’t. I pulled out of the neighborhood. My last image of Mrs. Mancuso was of her standing at the top of the incline like the Statue of Liberty, minus the torch. “Crap, I hope she doesn’t detonate the house.” My eyes narrowed at Taran through the mirror. “You haven’t been leaving retirement home brochures on her doorstep again, have you?”
Taran fluffed her hair. “I only did that the one time. And she deserved it after spraying me with her damn hose.”
Shayna wiggled in her seat. She hadn’t kept still since saying good-bye to Koda. “Ceel. How do you feel about hunting demons? I mean, I know we were a little unprepared last time, but . . .”
“A little unprepared? Shayna, we took on a demon child—child. And it chomped on my foot like a taco. I get the feeling a demon lord might be a tad tougher.” She fumbled with the silver pins in her hair Misha had gifted her with. Since our showdown with the vamps and our twisted slapstick routine with the little evil bugger, Shayna was constantly armed and ready for the next brawl. I sighed. I could relate. “I want to hunt with the wolves, but Aric flat-out refuses to take me with him, especially following Misha’s possession on our front lawn.”
Her head snapped up. “I get why Aric is afraid for you. I am, too. But it doesn’t seem right for us to sit around. We’re not exactly helpless, you know.” She blew out a breath, hard enough to make her lips vibrate. “I hate Koda out there without me. I know he’s big. I know he’s tough. And I know he has more fighting experience than I do. But I want to help keep him safe. Does that sound screwy?”
“No. It’s not screwy.” Everyone grew quiet, probably thinking of their own wolves. I knew I thought about mine. “I wrestle with two sides of me. When Aric talks about tracking and what he finds, it excites my beast. Both because of her need to hunt, but also because of our need to protect. My mortal side, the one that knows I could die, is scared senseless.”