Delilah dug into his arm as the Corpse Talker jumped back, leaning heavily against one of the OIA members.

I wandered over to Chase and Delilah. "Calm down. That just means the connection was severed. Rina's soul's passed through the veil."

Chase stared at the limp body, and I thought I saw something sparkle in the corner of his eye.

"You okay?" I asked.

He took a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah. I just… I'm so used to dealing with murder victims that sometimes I forget that they were people. Hearing her voice come out of that… thing… seeing the body jump. I've never thought much about the afterlife."

I could see that he was confused, probably even a little scared. I gave him a rough smile. "Don't take it too hard. We believe that the soul just moves on after death. Rina's alive, only not in this body. She's joined her ancestors."

The OIA team was busy making notes as they cleaned up. Chase looked over at the Corpse Talker and shuddered. "How do we pay her?" he asked.

Oh, this was going to be good. "You've never dealt with one of them, have you?"

He shook his head. "No, and I don't want to ever again, though I have the feeling I may be blowing smoke with that wish."

I leaned against one of the display tables and stared at my boots. They were looking a little scuffed, and it occurred to me that I should buy a new pair. Chase cleared his throat, and I blinked, bringing my attention back to matters at hand. How the hell was I supposed to answer without making him toss his cookies? Figuring that sometimes blunt was best, I shrugged.

"She'll take Rina's heart. The medics will give it to her. Corpse Talkers take into themselves a part of everyone for whom they speak. Think of it as a form of communion."

"Oh Jesus, I had to ask, didn't I?"

At his grimace, I jerked him around so that she couldn't see his face. "Don't do that," I said, hissing. "Her job is sacred, and she's as revered as she is avoided. Corpse Talkers speak only to one another unless they have business to transact. We aren't even sure what race they are or what gives them their powers. It's an inborn ability with their women, and so far, no other Sidhe has shown an aptitude for it. Don't make a fool of yourself by turning up your nose. She's one of the keepers of the dead, to be honored. Not despised."

He blinked. "Don't bite my head off. At least your sister understands why I'm so…"

"Scared?"

"Try again. I don't scare." Chase gave me a snotty look, but there was a glint in his eye that told me his mind was both on the case yet off in some sleazy corner, squeezing my boobs.

"The hell you don't, Johnson. And look at my face when I'm talking, will you?" Grumbling, I crossed my arms and stared out the window. Delilah was talking to the medics, watching as they prepared Rina for transport back to OW.

Chase cleared his throat and leaned down to whisper in my ear. "But you're so purtee, how can I resist? Come on, Camille, admit it. You want me as bad as I want you."

I turned and with an innocent, oh-so-sweet smile, reached out so quickly that he didn't have time to react. I had learned from the best and grabbed his balls, giving them a nasty but not debilitating tweak. He let out a squeak, and I let go. "Keep it up, and you'll be humping my knee, you perv."

As he glanced around frantically for a chair, I grinned and sauntered over to watch the last of the preparations on Rina's body. By the time I returned, he was glaring but didn't look in pain.

"So," I said in a casual tone. "You ready to trace that harpy? She means trouble for human and Sidhe alike."

I had a feeling he was fuming, but he surprised me. "Camille, I have to give it to you, you've got more guts than anybody I know. Nobody I know would have the courage to do that to me, and I guess I deserved it." He sighed. "I guess I should apologize…"

"I guess you should," I said, but smiled. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Say, you need to teach me how you do that. I can see teaching it to my officers."

Raising my eyebrows, I gave a little shrug. "If you want to learn how to grab balls, sure thing, but let's get back to business here." I led him into the back, where I started looking through Rina's desk for any clue to why the harpy might have murdered her. Chase glanced at the items I pulled out of the drawer.

"What exactly is a harpy? Are they like the same thing as harpies from Greek mythology?" He pulled out a stack of small paper bags. "I suppose we should dust these for fingerprints," he said.

"Uh, Chase, harpies don't have fingerprints. Not like humans or Faerie."

"Do they even have fingers?"

"Yeah, and if I can get hold of one, I'm giving it to Grandmother Coyote." I stopped him before he could even say a word. "Don't even ask. I'll explain that one later. Anyway, as far as harpies—they're demons. You might use 'mean' or 'nasty' to describe a killer or a thug, but that doesn't even begin to describe what these creatures are capable of."

I picked up a notebook. Addresses. Might come in handy. I flipped through it, looking for any names that might be familiar, then handed it to him, and he slipped the book into a paper bag.

"Is there a chance they'll work with humans?"

"Oh, there's a chance, but humans who have dealings with Demonkin usually don't last long enough to matter. They trust in fairy stories too much. They believe they'll get what they want if they promise their soul to the devil, but they don't realize that those rules only exist within their own framework of reference. Demonkin use others to their advantage, and when they're done, they simply discard the remains."

I paused, thinking that we had to fill Chase in on Shadow Wing and what he was after. "Chase, we know what the demons are after and why."

He jerked around. "What?"

"Let's go get coffee, and I'll tell you what we learned last night." I wasn't, however, going to tell Chase that I'd slept with Trillian. There were some secrets better left untold.

CHAPTER 7

Delilah and I decided that while I filled Chase in, she'd go check out Louise. As she headed over to the shop to borrow Iris's car, Chase and I agreed to rendezvous at Starbucks. The one thought I dreaded about going back to Otherworld was having to order my coffee from across the portals—we didn't have the plants over there. Yet. And then a lightbulb went on in my head. Maybe I could start a Starbucks franchise in Y'Elestrial, offer mocha frappuccinos and caramel lattes to all the Faerie. With our growing season there, coffee plants would flourish. The potential was mind-boggling.

I stared at the menu board and decided on a quad shot venti caramel mocha with extra whipped cream, while Chase ordered black coffee. As we slid onto the chairs by the corner table, he gave me a sheepish look.

"Listen, thanks for keeping me from making an ass of myself today. I almost fainted when that thing started… kissing… the body." He fiddled with a packet of sugar before ripping it open and adding it to his coffee.

"That thing is a Faerie who is highly respected in Otherworld," I said after a moment. "You were so transparent that even Delilah noticed. Why else do you think she held your hand?" I pulled a long sip on my mocha and shivered as the warm chocolate raced down my throat.

Sighing, I looked at Chase. "Listen, dude. You still think of Otherworld with rose-colored glasses. All elves and unicorns and Faerie princesses. Well, yes, we do have elves and unicorns, and kings and queens, but we also have vampires and shapeshifters and creatures that feast on the flesh of those whom they kill. We run in shades of gray, Chase, most of us who were born there. Stop expecting us to fit your definition of what you think 'Faerie' should be, and you'll rest a lot easier at night."

"Or maybe not," he mumbled. "Seriously, you're half-human, but you don't think like a human, do you? I thought when we first met that I'd be able to understand you better than some of the OIA operatives, but now I'm wondering if the mixture of human and Faerie blood doesn't make you stranger than if you were full-blood Sidhe."

I leaned back, staring out the window at the ever-present drizzle that sprinkled against the city streets. "Why? Because I won't sleep with you?"

Waving aside my comment, he said, "You think everything leads back to that, don't you? I guess I've given you that impression, so I'm sorry. Yes, I want to fuck you; you're hot, and I'm not immune to that Faerie charm you have going for you. At least I'm honest about it. But that's not why I said what I did."

He shifted in his seat and squinted. "Here's an example. You didn't even flinch when the Corpse Talker did her thing. To you, this all seems normal. I'm beginning to think that maybe I'm in over my head." Pausing for a moment, he added, "I've been thinking about resigning. I don't know how much more I can take. The shocks never stop coming."

Unable to believe what I was about to say, I leaned across the table. "We can't afford to lose you, Chase. You created the Faerie-Human Crime Scene Investigations team. You're the underpinning of OIA-Earthside. We need you, especially now. Do you really want your boss taking over and ruining everything you created?"

That was all it took. I knew it would work. Devins was a total ass, and while Chase kept his complaints to a minimum, I'd met the man and wanted to backhand him across the room.

"Thanks," he said gruffly. "Don't worry, I'll stick around. So what have you found out?"

I told him about Shadow Wing and the spirit seals. When I finished, he leaned back in his seat and wiped his hand across his eyes. He looked like he'd aged ten years in the past five minutes.

"So, OIA withheld information from us?"

I shook my head. "Probably not. They aren't that smart. The OIA is slow—bureaucracy to the core, and the Guard Des'Estar not far behind. Over the years, the Court and Crown have left the military to their own devices. The royals have grown lazy and self-important, and our military leaders, even more so."

"Most of the agents I've met seem qualified for their posts," Chase said.

I shook my head. "Listen, Chase, there's a difference between being an operative and being a warrior. Most of the agents I know take their job seriously, but they—we—aren't soldiers. And we've been hampered by HQ. My father is with the Guard. He sees the apathy going on. He was very proud of us for following him into service, but even he admits, Otherworld isn't ready to take on Shadow Wing's armies. Neither is Earth, and you'd better trust me on that. The demons could eat your tanks and guns and not even burp. There are hordes of them, Chase. Hordes."

Chase eyed me silently, sipping his drink. After a moment, he said, "What can we do? If everything you say is true, then both our worlds are in danger."

I frowned, thinking about what Trillian had said. "It gets worse. If what our sources tell us is true, OIA may not be helping us out much in a while. Something's going on back home, and I'd like to know what." My stomach rumbled.

Breakfast felt a million miles away. "I'll be back in a second."

I grabbed my purse and poked around the cold case, trying to figure out what I wanted to eat. A tuna sandwich and a peppermint fudge bar looked good to go. As I paid for my food, two women in their mid-fifties were staring at me, their jaws agape in surprise. I flashed them an absent smile and headed back to our table. As I took my seat, Chase was shaking his head. "What? You don't like tuna or something?"

"You and Delilah eat like you're starving. Don't they feed you in OW?" He winked, and I realized he was teasing me.

"Our metabolisms are higher than yours, and we need more food," I said, stuffing my face with a bite of the sandwich. I rolled my eyes happily—tuna was as good as naori fish back in OW, though the mercury content worried me a little. But our healers could clear the metal out of us, so I wasn't too worried.

"A lot of women here would love to trade places with you," he said.

"If they'd move around a little more and quit obsessing, they'd be fine. Why you FBHs think everybody should look the same is beyond me. Faeries come in all shapes and sizes and colors, and for us, beauty is more than visual. I can't believe how unhappy most of your females are. It's sad." I took another bite of sandwich and then a swig of mocha to wash it down.

Chase shrugged. "We've got a lot of problems, that's for sure, but I doubt if they're limited to Earthside. Anyway, back to the subject at hand, tell me more about the demons. How do they fit in with Otherworld, and what are they like?"

I blinked. I hadn't expected to be teaching a course in Demonology 101, but it made sense. Chase was on our side, and he deserved to know what he was up against. Though when he found out just what he was facing, he might decide to run for the hills. Clearing my throat, I began.

"Okay, first, there are three categories of demons, and within those three categories, there are numerous varieties. First, you have the Greater Demonkin, like Shadow Wing. They are the biggest of the bad, and killing one is beyond any of our hopes, not without a lot of backup from wizards and sorceresses. Second, we have the Lesser Demonkin. This includes our buddies we're chasing now: creatures like the harpy and Bad Ass Luke. They all inhabit the Subterranean Realms, and that's where they're born. The third category are the minor demons; some aren't even that demonic. We're talking imps and vampires and the like. They may—or may not—live in the Sub Realms."