Shaded Vision: An Otherworld Novel Read Online Free Page B

steeping them into tea, like I thought she was going to, she began packing them into gelatin capsules. Then she whispered some sort of enchantment over the capsules and handed me one of the giant horse pills along with a bottle of water.
    I stared at it, finally slipping it into my mouth. I struggled to swallow it with a big swig of water. It began to open on the way down and I burped, an earthy, tangy taste filling my mouth. As I winced, Iris slapped a piece of bread spread with butter in my hands.
    “Eat. It will help cushion the impact of the
damishanya
root.”
    “Damishanya? Oh crap. We’re fucked. But yeah, it will help.”
    Damishanya was an Otherworld herb that was as harsh as it was effective. I’d forgotten about it until Iris mentioned the name, but now memories of the root flooded back. The first time Camille, Menolly, and I had gotten pie-faced drunk—before our father gave us permission to drink—we’d sneaked some of the herb to keep our father from finding out. But he could smell the booze and herb a mile away, and we’d all suffered his wrath. We’d all been on cleaning duty for a week straight. He’d blamed Camille most, since she was the oldest and he held her responsible. She’d been on house arrest for two weeks.
    As Camille and the others entered the kitchen, Iris doled out the capsules and food, and then we headed out for the cars. Roz had declined the drug; come to find out he was barely tipsy and just blowing off steam. He did, however, wash off the oil and dress. Vanzir stayed home—he was too wasted to be of any help in the field.
    So Shade and I took Chase and Sharah with us in the Jeep, while Menolly drove Camille’s Lexus, ferrying Camille, Morio, Trillian, and Shamas.
    As we headed down the driveway my thoughts began to clear. The root was working fast. With a poignant regret, I realized how much I’d welcomed shutting down my mind for a while. For just a moment we’d been able to let ourselves go wild, forget about all we’d been facing. But now, I realized just how much steam was left behind the barrier.
    As we pulled into the parking lot at the Supe Community Council, I realized I was stone-cold sober. The hall—a small building that sat on a weed-infested lot with a parking lot full of cracks in the pavement—was smoldering. The smell of smoke saturated the air and it was hard to breathe. I opened the door and slowly stepped out of the car.
    At first glance, I thought maybe we’d lucked out and the building hadn’t been hit too hard. But as the others joined us—with everybody but Morio looking relatively intact—we moved forward, and I realized that the place had been gutted by the fire and explosion.
    I stared at the fractured hall, my heart skipping a beat. I was an integral part of the Supe Community Council. I could have easily been here. The planning committee for an upcoming dance was supposed to have met tonight. And what if this had happened during one of our monthly meetings, when we’d have up to a hundred members joining us?
    The thoughts of
what might have been
began to run through my head, an unending stream of bloody images, until I realized a lump the size of a golf ball had formed in the back of my throat. Camille took my hand as we surveyed the damage. The firemen were still pouring water on parts of the building, but by now, most of the flames had burned themselves out. There wasn’t much left for them to feed on.
    “It’s bad.” Yugi saw us and hurried over. Second in command to Chase, the Swedish hulk of a detective had grown into a friend—he’d always been helpful to us. He was an FBH, but he was also an empath, and now he looked into my eyes and I saw him shiver. He turned to Chase, who stepped up.
    “I’m sorry I wasn’t here—” Chase started to say, remorse filling his voice.
    “You can’t be on duty twenty-four-seven, boss. Nobody knew this was going to happen. We didn’t have any warning. Sure, hate crimes have been up, but