Free Night Seeker by Yasmine Galenorn Page B

contact Ysandra as soon as possible.” Pausing, I stared at her. “Did you dream—anything odd, by chance?”
    She frowned as she huddled under the blanket. “I don’t know…maybe.” After a moment, she cocked her head. “I seem to remember dreaming about somewhere…somewhere I felt safe. And…Chatter was with me. But that’s all that I can recall.”
    I debated telling her what I’d seen, but it might just have been wishful thinking, and until I had time to think more about it, I decided to keep my dreams to myself. I slowly stood and stretched, wincing. The cushions we’d slept on may have been soft, but they weren’t the same as a cushy bed, that was for sure. Rhiannon grumbled as she pushed herself to her feet.
    As the bracing air hit me, I rubbed my hands on my arms. “Damn, it’s cold.” My teeth were chattering and I craved a cup of steaming coffee.
    Peyton and Luna opened their eyes at my words. Theyyawned and then followed suit, dragging themselves reluctantly from beneath the covers. I sorted through the clothes till I found a fresh pair of jeans, along with a clean turtleneck and—best of all—clean underwear. At least we would have a few days’ worth of clean undies before having to do laundry in the sink.
    Rhiannon wrapped a light throw around her shoulders. “I need to wash up.” She headed for the bathroom.
    Peyton and Luna sorted through the clothes until they found their own things. Kaylin had no real sense of color or style coordination, but that didn’t matter right now. I shivered again and followed Rhia’s example, hugging one of the blankets around my shoulders.
    “Are you ready to meet your father?” I glanced over at Peyton.
    She shrugged. “Yes, though I’m so afraid things will go badly and then I’ll wish I’d never heard from him. I know everybody thinks it’s better to know than not know…but sometimes I wonder about that. Living in a fantasy land can be a lot easier than facing reality.”
    “Especially with the reality we’re up against.” I gave her a soft smile. “I’m sure he’ll be wonderful. After all, look at Wrath. He’s not what I ever expected, but somehow…it fits my life that he’s my father.”
    The werepuma/magic-born woman nodded. Peyton was tall and sturdy, muscled and with dark long hair and dark eyes. Her native heritage showed through her Caucasian side and she was a combination of the exotic and down-to-earth practicality.
    “Should we plan out the trip to rescue Lainule’s heartstone?” Luna frowned as she held up a long skirt and a button up shirt. “This should do.” She began singing a faint chant over the clothes and—as she sang—the wrinkles vanished from the material.
    “How did you do that?” I sat up, intrigued.
    “Simple enough. Some of my magic is kitchen-witch-oriented. I can sing the wrinkles out of clothes, make sure a boiling pot never overflows or burns, charm seeds to germinate faster and grow stronger.”
    I’d never known much about yummanii magic. The magic-born primarily worked with the elements, but I knew there were other types of spells, other types of magic. “What else can you do? Are your spells linked to an element?”
    She shrugged. “My magic is all linked to song. If I get laryngitis, my powers are disrupted. I first discovered my abilities when I was young. I sang to my toys and one day they started dancing. Freaked my mother out. But my grandma was a spell singer—which is what they call it in my family, and one cousin also has the power. We’re not sure where it came from but Grandma used to talk about her grandmother being able to conjure with song.”
    “You have perfect pitch, don’t you?” I couldn’t keep on key to save my life, but I could recognize talent when I heard it.
    With a slight blush, she ducked her head. “Yes, and I have the ability to sing any song I’ve heard even one time. I seem to have an audiographic memory—like photographic, only for music.”
    Peyton