by Ally Shields
“Her mother was a little chilly at first. Kam had just left after painting a dismal picture of every possible danger she could imagine.” Rhyden shrugged. “I apologized but explained we really hadn’t deviated from our original plans. Then Esty diverted her mother by talking about everything she’d seen at the spa. When Sawyer got home, he didn’t say much. I got the impression he felt Kam had over-reacted. They eventually invited me to stay for dinner.”
Seth chuckled. “You must have turned on the Lormarc charm.”
“I do try.” Rhyden stopped under a blue and yellow neon sign. “Isn’t this the place?”
The lively bar was filled with a young Saturday night crowd, a mixture of locals and tourists, but no one looked over their mid-thirties, most considerably younger. The lights were bright, the music loud, and everyone appeared to be in good spirits. Seth looked over the room hoping to spot Butler from his ex-girlfriend’s description: tall, hawkish features, dark red hair. It wasn’t hard. He was in a far corner, surrounded by a group of companions.
“How do you want to handle this?” Rhyden asked.
“Let’s try not to start a fight. We don’t need the local cops involved.” Seth walked over to the bartender. “See that tall red-headed guy in the corner?” The barkeep nodded, and Seth laid a hundred-dollar bill on the counter. “His name is James Butler. Give him and his friends a round of drinks on us. And tell Butler we’d like to talk with him.”
The man gave Seth and Rhyden a speculative look. “This isn’t trouble, is it?”
“I sure hope not.”
“If you start something, I’ll call the cops.” His gaze sharpened. “You’re not the cops, are you?”
“No, and we understand. We’ll keep it friendly.”
“See that you do.” The bartender picked up the hundred and put it on top of the cash register. After filling another drink order, he came around the counter, crossed the room, and talked with Butler and his friends. They turned to look, and Seth lifted a casual hand. The redhead stared hard at him and finally sauntered in his direction.
Butler looked Seth and Rhyden over and cocked his head. “You looking for me? I don’t know you, so what do you want? Nobody buys drinks without wanting something.” He gave a crooked smirk. “I assume this isn’t a hookup.”
“My name’s Seth. This is my cousin Rhyden. We have a mutual acquaintance, Thornton Rimee.”
“That jerk sent you?” He turned away.
“No, he didn’t. We’re investigating an assault. Where were you early Thursday morning around six o’clock?”
Butler turned back. “Are you cops? Well, no matter. Can’t say I’m sorry if someone beat him up, but it wasn’t me. I’ve got what you call an ironclad alibi.” He turned his head and shouted across the bar to his friends. “Hey, sugar, come here a minute.”
A blonde in cutoff jeans and a halter top detached herself and came to join them. Butler put his arm possessively around her shoulders. “Linda honey, tell these guys where I was Thursday morning.”
She frowned. “What’s this about?”
“Just tell them,” he said.
“Same place you’ve been every night and morning this week. My bed. Why?”
“Oh, they thought I gave some little weenie his due. Nothing to worry about.” Butler looked at Seth. “Satisfied?”
Seth turned to Linda. “Did this sleepover include breakfast?”
“You bet. A very late breakfast.” She gave him a smug look.
“So I guess that’s that,” Butler said. “But if you find out who did this, give him my regards. Rimee’s a prick. That goes for his friends too.”
Seth frowned at Butler’s back. Rimee and the other elven guards were attracting too much local attention. Something would have to be done about that. Elvenrude couldn’t afford to have its people investigated by authorities.
He walked back to lean on the bar and caught the bartender’s attention. “Do you know who Rimee is?”
“Sure. Dark-haired dude, blue eyes. Ladies like him.”
“Enough to make another guy come after him?”
The barkeep shrugged. “Been no trouble around here, except with the redhead. But there was someone asking about him and his buddies a few days ago. Big blond guy with a heavy accent.”
Seth straightened. “What did he want? Did he give you his name?”
“Didn’t mention it. It was a brief conversation. He described Rimee, wanted to know if I’d seen him, how often he came in, stuff like that. I don’t like talking about my customers, so I told him I didn’t know anything, and he left. Hasn’t been back.”
Seth thanked the bartender, and they returned to the street where night had fallen. Rhyden matched his pace. “I wonder what the blond guy’s interest was. Seemed pretty focused on Rimee.”
“Hard to say,” Seth admitted. “Another disgruntled boyfriend? We’ll ask Rimee. If someone’s hunting him, he may be holding out on us.”
“If he is, another woman’s involved, and he doesn’t want Julia to find out.” Rhyden nodded to himself. “Two women is dangerous business.”
“Personal experience talking?” Seth asked.
Rhyden ignored him. “I don’t think Butler is our guy. He’s a major jerk, and his alibi sucks, but he’s shacking with Blondie now. I’m not sure he’d bother messing with Rimee.”
“Maybe not. But until we have a better idea what happened, everyone’s a suspect…and that includes Billy’s ghosts. Let’s make another pass through the French Quarter and along the river.”
* * *
When Kam returned to New Orleans, it was nearly eleven o’clock. She brought additional guards with her and stationed them at both guild portals—the only direct access to Elvenrude. As long as they were protected, her homeland should remain safe.
Neither Seth nor Rhyden were at the Lormarc Guild, and she made no effort to contact them. She simply explained to the guild master there had been threats against the portals.
“What kind of threats? Who made them? And why?” The Lormarc guild master’s green eyes narrowed. He struggled with receiving his instructions from a member of the rival Ryndel Guild. The feud between the two houses still ran strong among many of the clan.
“You’d have to ask the king,” Kam said, refusing to get into an argument. “I just follow orders, as I expect you to do.” She relented enough to add, “This could be related to the attack on Rimee. Tell your employees to be extra careful and to limit their activities while they’re Cityside.”
Upon leaving the Lormarc Guild, Kam debated whether to call Crain. She really wanted to go home and think about what she’d heard in Elvenrude. Seliwyn’s theory of the return of the moon elves was like a fairy tale or believing in aliens. The truth must be simpler than that. Wasn’t a rogue band who migrated through the portal years ago or a remnant of Jermon’s rebellion much more likely…and credible?
She sighed. But before she could untangle that puzzle, she’d finish Crain’s job and get him off her back. She pulled out her phone and called him.
“You’re late,” he said. “Our IT analysts figured out how to intercept the signal from the safe alarm. We’re set to go.”
“OK.” She didn’t bother to tell him she had other things to do. The CIA didn’t care. She’d make this a quick in-and-out job. “I’m headed there now. Tell them to block everything starting in ten minutes.”
The Gormley office building was dark except for the front entrance and a nightlight on each floor. She made short work of the lock on the side entrance, but when she reached the second floor, she discovered a new obstacle. The guard had relocated inside Gormley’s office. The drug dealer was a careful man.
While she could conceal her presence, the guard couldn’t miss the safe door mysteriously opening and closing. She retreated to the first floor, called Crain, and explained the situation. “I need a distraction that doesn’t seem threatening or suspicious.”
“Let me think about it,” Crain said. “Maybe a polic
e disturbance next door would get his attention. We can pound on all the doors in the neighborhood as if we’re looking for someone or for witnesses. That should pull him away for a few minutes.”
“OK. Good. I’ll be ready.”
“Give me a little time to put this together.”
Kam returned to the second floor and watched the guard lounge in his boss’s chair behind the desk. It was the same thug from last night, but tonight’s reading material was a girlie magazine. He nodded and smirked as he turned the pages.
Several minutes passed before she heard the sound of approaching sirens. Securely holding the amulet, she moved to the office doorway. The guard got up and looked out the window. Flashes from a cruiser’s light bar reflected off his face. Loud voices demanded entry into the building next door; then she heard the crash of a forced entry. More loud, excited voices.
Kam edged into the room and stood next to the safe. The moment he left, she’d be ready to work.
The pounding started, not only on this building but on several other doors too. Kam waited, her tension mounting. Damn. It looked as if the night watchman was going to ignore them. But the pounding didn’t let up.
He finally swore, muttered something about wishing he’d turned off the lights, and headed toward the door. At the last moment, he paused to sweep the room with a final look before stomping down the hall. She heard the elevator ding.
Kam quickly opened the safe, spread out the counterfeit money and several documents—business ledgers, profit sheets, and cost estimates. She snapped pictures for Crain. This should be all the proof he needed. She returned everything, locked the safe again, and had just released the handle when the guard reappeared in the door. She froze. He might not be able to see her, but he could still hear her movements if she wasn’t careful. And he’d certainly know someone was there if he bumped into her.
He cocked his head, took a step forward, and stopped.
Kam shrank against the wall. If he came to check the safe, he’d run right into her. She had nowhere to go.
But he didn’t. He turned and took his seat behind the desk. Kam slowly released the breath she’d been holding. Keeping a wary eye on him, she tiptoed across the office, out the open door, and hurried downstairs into the side street. She immediately vaulted to the nearest rooftop.
As she ran across the tops of darkened buildings toward home, she grinned with satisfaction and called Crain. “I got what you wanted. I’m sending photos of the money and some other stuff I found. There’s at least two notes about a new dealer in town referred to as the Double C.”
“I’ve heard that name before. Just recently. Must be a rival gang moving in. We’ll check it out. Well done, Kam.”
“Reward me by not calling for a while,” she said. “I have other commitments I need to handle.” Beginning with Seth. And the attack on Rimee.
Crain chuckled. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“I mean it, Agent Crain. I need a break.”
Kam put her phone back in her pocket. She was too tired to see Seth tonight, but tomorrow she’d find an opportunity for them to talk. Maybe she was as angry with herself as she was with him. In either case, it was time to clear the air. Otherwise, their relationship was going to drift into oblivion on its own.
Spotting her apartment building a block away, she slowed her pace and dropped to street level in a dark courtyard. The moment her feet hit the ground, she was tackled from behind, her chin hit a stone statue, and she fell into a flower bed where she was gripped and held down by at least two strong bodies. The amulet was pried from her fingers, and she became visible. Kam twisted her head and got a first look at her captors.
CHAPTER SIX
The elven man from the swamp stared down at her with those incredible eyes. Her invisibility amulet dangled from his hand. A younger male elf of similar looks—pale, flaxen hair, multihued eyes—stood beside him and two others held her down.
“How dare you!” She struggled to get free. “Get your hands off me. King Seliwyn will be outraged.”
“Let her up, but watch her.” The obvious leader swung the amulet gently. “Just who are you, and where did you get this?” He spoke in ancient Elfish as he had done the other night.
When her captors loosened their hold, Kam scrambled up, shook off their hands, and straightened. She rubbed her chin, and her hand came back bloody. Struggling to keep her temper, she bit off her response. “Kameo Ryndel, a lieutenant of his majesty’s guards. My family owns the Ryndel Guild.” When he failed to look impressed, she snapped, “Why have you attacked me? What do you want?”
“And the amulet?” he asked again.
“I don’t see that’s any of your business. It was a gift from my godmother.” She held out her hand. “May I have it?”
“She is a haughty one, Trystan.” The slim, more delicate version of the spokesman lifted an eyebrow. “She needs to be taught better manners.”
“Patience, Tad.” Trystan kept his attention on Kam. He seemed puzzled. “You’re able to use the ancient magics. How?”
“I don’t understand your question. As the daughter of an Elite family, I was born with the ability.” She narrowed her eyes. “Who are you to be asking me these questions? Are you crossbreeds? Your hair, your eyes. You’re definitely not Ryndel or Lormarc.”
“Crossbreeds,” one of the men snarled. “That sounds like an insult.”
“I am Trystan, prince of Cyrilia.”
“Prince?” she exclaimed. “Our king has no sons. You must be from one of the distant regions. Is Cyrilia your guild?”
“She speaks in riddles,” Tad said. “The peasants must have formed some kind of community here. But I don’t comprehend any of the rest.”
“Nor do I,” Trystan said. “Bring her. We’ll sort this out at home.”
Kam sucked in a breath. Their bewilderment seemed genuine. Could Seliwyn’s theory be correct? Or had this band been on their own so long they’d lost touch with the rest of Elvenrude society?
“Bring me where? I’m not going with you.” She planted her feet.
“You shall come willingly, or I will have you bound and gagged,” Trystan said calmly. “Your choice.”
Kam stared at him defiantly and lifted her chin. No one would choose that alternative.
The prince turned away. “I thought you’d see it my way. Let’s go.”
They shoved a silver ring on her finger and sped through the city streets cloaked in invisibility. The two men continued to grip her arms, and she had no opportunity to escape. They left the city and entered the swamplands south of New Orleans. Kam wasn’t completely surprised since she’d seen them in the swamps before, but what was in there? A boat? Surely they didn’t live in the swamp.
She bit her lip. They were a long way from the city now. It had finally sunk in she was in serious trouble.
What a really bad time to fight with Seth. Not that any time was good, but her anger over Esty had distracted her from mentioning the encounter in the swamp. He’d think she’d taken off—again. Would he even look for her? Maybe he’d think she was avoiding him. Or on another CIA mission. Would he realize she was really missing? Would he care?
She gave herself a mental shake. Whatever Seth thought or felt, he didn’t know about her pale-haired captors. She needed to focus on saving herself. It would help if she knew who they were and where they were taking her. In spite of their strange appearance, there was no question they were elves. But who or what was Cyrilia? The name of their town or their leader? And what did they want with her?
They slowed as they reached a thick grove of trees draped with Spanish moss. Trystan led them behind the trees and struck off on a path barely discernible among the dense foliage. Seconds later, a large area of sparkling silver and gold—perhaps ten feet by ten—loomed directly ahead. Trystan and Tad didn’t hesitate and strode toward it.
“What is that?” Kam hung back. Every instinct told her not to go any closer.
“It’s a portal,�
�� one of her captors said.
“To where? How’d you get access to a portal?” And one that looked so different from the ones she used. She stiffened her legs. “I’m not going in there.”
“Bring her,” Trystan ordered.
The two men lifted her off her feet and carried her into the curtain of light.
A blinding flash, and Kam stared around her, speechless at what she saw. She stopped struggling, and her captors set her on her feet.
This couldn’t be Elvenrude. Instead of lush fields, dense forests, and distant mountains, this land was gray-brown, parched. As far as she could see, barren patches of ground were interspersed with struggling shrubs, weeds, and stunted trees. The sky was a dingy off-white. Dry air brushed against her skin; it seemed unusually devoid of scent. No fragrance of flowers, no earthy smell.
Kam recoiled from the desolation. “Where are we?”
“Cyrilia,” Trystan said curtly. “Our home.”
Home? Who would choose to live in this dreadful place? Certainly not the all-powerful moon elves of the past. Had this band been cast off with no one to teach them how to nurture the land?
“Where are your farm fields, your guilds?”
One of her captors poked her in the side. “You ask too many questions. Don’t speak unless the prince gives you permission.”
Kam glowered at him. “Don’t touch me again.”
Trystan looked back. “Is there a problem, Breen?”
“No, my lord,” the man beside her said. “She’s just a mouthy wench.”
Trystan stopped and looked at Kam. “Come walk with me. You seem to have a lot to say, and I have many questions.”
“So do I.” She met his gaze directly. “Why have you brought me here?”
“All in good time. It will soon become clear.” He motioned for her to join him. “Come. I will tell you everything you want to know about Cyrilia.”
When she hesitated, Breen roughly shoved her forward. She whirled and struck him across the face. “I told you not to touch me.”
He grabbed for her, and the other guard closed in. Kam leaped back. Momentarily free, she seized the opportunity and bolted for the portal. A solid body tackled her, and her head banged against a large rock.