Belladonna

don't know exactly. Someone who doesn't belong.
    Someone ... different."
    Sebastian looked down the Den's main street, where two men and a succubus were staggering toward a brothel that provided slightly more privacy than having sex in the alley. He looked in the other direction, where three bull demons stomped out of a tavern, bellowing.
    "Guess someone had a good night playing cards," Lee said.
    "Omelets all around," Sebastian muttered, watching as three horned, shaggy heads turned in the direction of Philo's place, where Lynnea waited tables and cooked a few "special" dishes.
    "I hear Lynnea's got the bull demons clearing out some of the brush around your place and cutting another path so folks aren't walking through your backyard when they want to get from the Den to Aurora."
    "Yeah," Sebastian said, stepping aside to let the bull demons stomp over to their favorite table and then wait politely for Lynnea to notice them. "She made a cake — with a buttercream frosting, mind you — and brought it to Philo's during one of her work shifts. Gave each of the bull demons a piece of cake and offered to make each one a cake of his very own in exchange for clearing brush and cutting the new path. The negotiations got ... noisy."
    Lee grinned. "I heard you almost had to lock up your own wife."
    "You hear too much. Anyway, they each get a cake for clearing the brush, and another cake for cutting the new path through the woods so we can maintain some privacy at home."
    "Did you get a taste of the sample cake when all this bartering was going on?"
    Sebastian just sighed.
    Lee laughed.
    "So," Sebastian said, watching Lynnea and the bull demons. "Tell me again about noticing someone in the Den who's different?" When Lee didn't answer, he turned and looked at his cousin. "Lee? Lee!"
    "I have to go. Someone needs ..." So strong. The need was so strong. "I have to go."
    He started to step back, to step away. Before he'd completed that first step, Sebastian grabbed his jacket and hauled him back so close that the only things separating them were Sebastian's fists.
    "Where are you going?" Sebastian demanded.
    "I don't know. It's not a place. I don't get a sense of place."
    "You're the only Bridge Nadia and Glorianna can count on. Maybe the only one living in their landscapes. If something happens to you ..."
    "I know." Lee tried to free himself, but even if he decked Sebastian, Lynnea was heading toward them — and the bull demons were on their feet, waiting to see what the humans were going to do — and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Teaser hustling toward them. He wasn't going anywhere until Sebastian let him go. Unless he took Sebastian with him. All it would take was a stumble and a step back, but ...
    "I know," he said again. "But I have to go. I'll use my island to cross over to the place where I feel the need. I'll be careful. As long as I stay on the island, I'm connected to Sanctuary. I can get back. I'm not going to take a risk that will put us in danger, Sebastian, but I can't leave a heart out there when the need is so strong."
    Sebastian uncurled his fists but didn't quite let go of Lee's jacket. "You're exhausted now, practically asleep on your feet. How long will this take?"
    "You can't pin a time on something like —"
    The hands tightened into fists again. "How long?"
    This isn't about me being the only Bridge in Nadia's and Glorianna's landscapes. This is about family. "Give me four hours. If you don't hear from me by then, figure I've run into bad trouble." Not that knowing that would do you any good. If I'm in the kind of trouble that makes it impossible to reach my island, there's nothing you can do to help me.
    Sebastian let go of Lee's jacket and stepped back. "Four hours."
    Using his unusual gift of being able to impose his small island over another landscape, Lee brought the island to the Den's main street. He extended one hand back and felt the bark of a tree. One step back and he was standing on the island, vanished from the sight of the Den's citizens even though he could still see them,
    Slipping one hand into his jacket pocket, he fingered the coiled braid he carried everywhere. Resonance and need rang through him, confirming what he'd already suspected. He was about to let Ephemera's currents of power take him to an unknown landscape in order to find the woman who belonged to a discarded braid of hair.
    And he hoped she was worth the risks.

Chapter Thirteen
    "I z dead."
    "Iz sleeping."
    "Iz