Earth Enchanted

by Brynna Curry

  He pushed back the leather chair, and let her sit across his lap.

  “Do you know what I want, Marie?” he asked as he used her viciously, violently.

  She gave no complaint. It was fortunate for her that she liked it rough. “Oui. I know what monsieur likes.”

  His hand slipped behind her to the desk drawer. He pulled out a loaded .38 special, placed the barrel to her heart.

  “No, you don’t. I want to be steeped in death, especially theirs, but yours will do for now.”

  Shock and horror ran across her face. Gueraldi pulled the trigger and watched the light leave her eyes as he spilled into her. He tossed her body aside and buzzed his assistant.

  “Send someone to my study. There’s a mess that needs cleaning up.”

  He adjusted his clothes, ignored the blood on his sleeve, and stepped over her on his way out. She had been his lover for the past ten months, longer than he had kept others, but she had been very talented. Perhaps he shouldn’t have allowed the slip of his temper. It could be difficult to find another so skilled. No matter. He never looked back as he made his way down the carpeted hall. With enough money, you could buy anything.

  Chapter 21

  Liv woke in an elegant champagne silk bedecked bedroom with baby pink roses on the wallpaper. What sick game were these people playing, and who had kidnapped her after she killed that guy back in the apartment? Mozart piped in through invisible speakers. A quick scan of the room showed two windows facing east, barely any light shining through the lace curtains. That meant it was either dusk the same day or just before dawn of a new one. How long had she been out?

  Someone had bathed the blood from her and dressed her in a—surprise—silk champagne colored dressing robe. Her skin crawled at the thought of it. Some stranger had undressed and washed and redressed her body while she had been unconscious. She prayed they’d been considerate enough to put her somewhere with an adjoining bath. She was beginning to feel nauseous.

  She wasn’t bound, at least, and after a few ginger movements found she was able to get up out of the bed to wander around. She had on impossibly high heels with feathers across the toes on her feet. The room might have been plush, but the shoes were just tacky. The first thing she tried was the door…locked, so she hadn’t been rescued and put in a fancy hotel suite, not that she’d actually held out any hope of that. The next were the windows…barred. Okay, escape through conventional methods wasn’t going to happen. She’d just have to be creative. She found the bathroom and in the corner were her blood-soaked nightgown and robe. The smell and the memory of what she’d had to do roiled in her stomach and revolted.

  When she came out of the bath there was a tray on the nightstand. She had missed her chance, but if whoever had her prisoner, however gilded the cage, came once, they would be back. She should have been starving, with her stomach empty. How many hours or days had she lost? She no longer even knew what city or country for that matter she might be in. At the moment, her imagination was more curse than blessing. The aroma of the wonderfully displayed food sent a new queasiness through her and had her running for the bath. Where was she? What the hell had they given her?

  * * * *

  Devin had heard Olivia screaming in his head. He’d seen clearly her kidnapping and the death of the two police detectives assigned to guard her. He dressed quickly and checked out of the hotel. Whatever came of all of it, she was family, blood of his blood, and that overruled everything else. For all the immoral things he was, the young laird he’d once been still remained. She was of the clan.

  He barreled down the road twice the speed limit on a battered Harley in the middle of the night to help a friend, when he normally would have just transported himself. He hadn’t been able. His magic was weakening, but he didn’t have time to analyze why. Another vision flashed through his mind and like a movie playing, he watched the explosion of Jack’s house. Devin had only seconds to say the spell to shield Jack from the fire, but it kept him from burning to a cinder. For the first time in several centuries, he began to pray.

  * * * *

  Jack stormed the building with Ryan hot on his heels. He woke a street sleeper in his path, and nearly gave the old woman watching early morning reruns of Andy Griffith a heart attack. See no evil hear no evil, was the only answer he got. After all, he didn’t know what the kidnapper looked like. Ryan knocked on another door, but all they heard were unmistakable sounds that couldn’t be torture or murder.

  Jack called him over and pointed to another door that was barely open. “This one’s ajar.” He took a step closer and shoved it open, pointing his pistol into the empty space, but there was no one left alive here to warrant the need. The stench hit him like a wave. The knowledge punched him in the stomach. The smell of death sickened his mortality and ripped at his heart. Liv. Oh, God, he hadn’t been fast enough to save her. Not again. He crumbled.

  Jack felt Ryan’s hand rest on his shoulder. He looked up, ashamed of the tears, sick at heart.

  “Liv?”

  Ryan offered him a hand up.

  “Tell me she’s…”

  “She’s not here. It’s not her. She was here, though. You were right. She must have killed him and got away. Army guy in there has a knife in his heart, blood everywhere.”

  With the worry subsiding, Jack could finally focus on what Ryan was saying. She had been there, but wasn’t now. He heard Ryan say he should go in and take a look around.

  “You have experience with crime scenes that I don’t. Maybe you can see something I can’t, or you could get a vision, or whatever.” Ryan waved his hands around as if his words needed punctuation.

  Jack walked into the room and tried to let the cop takeover. Lock it down, Jack, deal with it later. Filth everywhere, the smell was obvious. Save for the blood, there was no way to tell when the place had been wrecked. An orange liquid had been splashed against the wall, but looked days old. No blood anywhere in the living room. The bedroom was a different story. Blood covered everything like a geyser had spewed into the room.

  The dead lay with one booted foot on the bed, and the rest of him on his back on the floor with the other knee bent at a sickly angle. A rope lay on the floor at the head of the bed; another two were still tied on the posts at the foot of the bed. They’d been cut on one end. She’d been tied up in this bed, he thought, at the mercy of this very dead psychopath. He wanted to roar and rage at the possibilities of all the things that could have been done to her. Where was she? Ropes had been cut at the foot, but not the head. Could he have untied her hands? How did she get her ankles free? If she’d had a weapon, she would have used it sooner. No blood in the hall, he knew before he thought to look. Whoever took her had taken the fire escape, which was a terror in itself, and left by way of the alley unseen. Out of clues, out of luck, he felt the weight caving in on him. He couldn’t find her. No more hope. No Liv.

  As dawn broke over Ryan’s house, he and Jack pulled into the drive. Weary and heart sore they had done all but comb the world to look for Liv. Maybe Sam had called with news. All that could be done now was wait and worry and wonder. Ryan flipped off the foyer light he had neglected to turn off in his haste to leave.

  The house didn’t feel empty, Jack thought when they walked into the study. He shoved Ryan behind him and pulled out his pistol.

  “You’re beginning to get a habit of that. I wish you’d stop. I’m not feeble or female.”

  Jack motioned for him to be quiet. “Someone’s here.”

  “You should have taken the time to lock up, Corrigan.” This came from some disembodied entity in the dark study, and caused Jack to cock his gun. When he saw the face belonging to the voice, he holstered it.

  “Christophe.”

  “Devin.” Both Ryan and Jack spoke simultaneously and only after, became suspicious.

  “Right on both counts. I guess there’s some explaining to do.”

  Jack leveled his gun on him. This was the man who had forced Serena to steal t
he diamonds that had gotten her killed. He cocked back the hammer. Not possible, this was Devin, his friend.

  Devin’s voice slipped into a Scottish burr. “Have a seat, we’ll discuss it, and then we’ll plan what comes next.”

  “What’s going on, Devin?”

  “Remember the name you pried from me. It belongs to him. This is Christophe LeFleur. What the hell do you want? The feds are dredging the lake for your bloody diamonds. You can take them to your boss and tell him to shove—”

  Jack interrupted Ryan’s tirade. He was pacing the room and waving accusing hands at him, Irish temper in full swing. “You. It’s not possible. You got Serena involved. Who are you?”

  “Calm down, Jack. She was already involved. I didn’t know she was yours until it was too late to do anything, but I tried.”

  Jack gave a half laugh. “You tried. Liar.”

  “If I gave you the truth of it, I wonder if you would believe me? Shall I tell you the whole of it then?” Devin flicked a finger toward the fireplace, which burst into flame.

  Both Jack and Ryan stared as the fire licked the logs already laid there.

  “I see I have your undivided attention, gentlemen. I suppose I should begin at the beginning.”

  Ryan walked to the desk and pulled a bottle of brandy out of the drawer, poured three glasses, and sat down after passing them around. “I have a feeling we’re going to need this.”

  “First, Jack, I’ll say I truly am sorry, for both the deception and the death of Serena. If there had been anything within my power, which is legion, I would have done it. I’ve had few true friends over the years, and I always considered you that. I wonder, has your Irish lady told you of her legend? Surely you know of it, Ryan.”

  Both men nodded and looked at each other questioningly.

  “The half-nixie Daemon McLoch who loved the healer Briella Farrell was a cousin of sorts to me and another friend, both in battle and out. It was himself who nurtured the gift for power I was born with and had to hide in shame. He was cast from the clan because of it.”

  Devin created a ball of fire in the palm of his hand and tossed it to Jack. It sat as cool as ice in Jack’s hand, then fizzled and burst into tiny sparks.

  “I should have asked what are you, instead of who.”

  “I’m a witch, hereditary, and a jewel thief, a very good one. But I digress. I was telling you a story. You know how the legend goes, Ryan. She found my cousin after he’d been forced to leave our clan. You see, my father was laird and the MacGavins were planning to rise against us. He felt my time better suited to battle and royal duty than women’s frivolities such as magic. As heir I had responsibilities, he was prone to bluster. The day the spell was cast, the rival clan came down on our land and men threefold. My father fell along with most of our men. Only a few remained with myself leading the advance, but something happened as I was about to be killed. I had a vision, as if I were there, I saw the spell cast and my part in it was clear, but it gave me a powerful boost to the shield I was trying to cast around our land. I became locked out of my own keep, exiled from my own land. I waited, wandered, learned, and honed my magic. I didn’t think it would take so long to break a stupid spell. A thousand years and yet I continue to live.

  “I’ve been stealing diamonds for a man named Niccolo Gueraldi for about two years now, longer than you have been on the case, Jack. At least that’s what he thinks. I actually copy them, magically, so that they are in fact diamonds.”

  “So, what becomes of the museum pieces?” Ryan asked.

  “I use them, and then I put them back where they belong. Gueraldi has his diamonds. I get rich and still get to use them for my own purposes. The museums get their pieces back. No body gets hurt, until—”

  “The name rings a bell. Italian business mogul, right?” Jack asked.

  “Yes, and not too happy with Christophe the jewel thief right now, hence the switch of identity.”

  Ryan finally spoke. “What does any of this have to do with finding Liv?”

  “You have been working for him too, Ryan, and I doubt he was thrilled that his little trap fell in on him. He probably has Olivia. God help her. Has she reached out to you, Jack?”

  “Yes, how did you know she could?”

  Devin smiled cannily. “We had a private mental conversation the night we met at your place. She’s talented. I think I can help you, if I can get her to communicate with me.”

  Jack got up to pace back and forth. The roller coaster ride he’d been on for the last twenty-four hours had thrown him for loop. To find Olivia safe and sound, he would have taken the devil himself along for the ride.

  “Dev, I feel like I just stepped through Alice’s looking glass. Tell me what I need to do.”

  So they began to plan.

  Chapter 22

  Jack groaned and raked a hand down his face while Devin and Ryan grinned at him in the darkness. “I cannot believe you two actually talked me into this. I was a cop for God’s sake! How in the world did I get mixed up in all this mess?”

  They stood in a darkened corridor of the Smithsonian where the Hope diamond was housed. It had been Devin’s idea to take the legendary jewel, only this time there would be no replacement. They were going to use it as a bargaining chip and when Gueraldi had his stone and they Liv, a call to Agent Spiller would be all it would take to have the man in federal prison. The trick was to not get caught stealing it, of course.

  Devin shushed him and flicked his eyes to the security cameras in the next passage. He sent out the heat of the fire that lived inside him. The circuits sizzled and they went inactive.

  Ryan watched him in awe. “You’ve got to teach me how to do that. I’ll never use it of course, but that is very cool.”

  Devin considered him as if he were serious. “You could be taught, I suppose. It’s true you have magic in the blood.” He grinned. “Cousin, I am evidence of that.” He felt someone in the shadows, someone extra. He threw out a hand to stop his companions from following. He never touched them, but Jack felt like he was trying to push through an invisible wall. He saw a black form slip around the display case.

  “Damn, I should have known it.” Devin growled and tackled the figure, then yanked off the black ski mask. She was as shocked to see Devin as he was her.

  “Christophe!” Her breath came ragged and her eyes.

  “You shouldn’t be here, Nicolette.” Devin grimaced.

  “I am here. I’m not leaving without what I came for. Get off of me.”

  He hauled her up off the floor, none too gently.

  Nicolette glowered. “So you replaced us? That was why you wanted us gone. I hope they catch you. I, however, will be long gone with the Hope by then.”

  “You really have no idea, at all, do you? They are…” He considered for a moment. “Family. I need a scapegoat, Nicolette. Regrettably, you put yourself in that position.”

  “I’m going, Christophe, we can just forget I was here.”

  “No, we won’t.” He smiled at her, but his eyes were cold fire. “Time to learn, time to teach, the one who won’t be taught must learn to reach. Hold her here till I see fit and we’re at the end of it.”

  She gave a startled little cry when she tried making a run for it, but was unable to move no more than an inch in any direction. She beat against the shield with futility and frustration.

  He took the Hope from its resting place on the velvet and then dangled it in front of her.

  “You can’t cause trouble, now can you? I have need of this prize at the moment. The life of a dear lady rests on this gem, and you, lover, aren’t worth the price.” He kissed her firmly.

  “Goodbye, Nicolette.” Devin left her fuming in the dark hall empty-handed.

  “Are you just going to leave her there?” Jack asked. “What did you do to her anyway?”

  “Yes, and it’s no more than she deserves, a little spell is all. When the police come, they’ll find her. Make no mistake, she’ll sing like a canary. I w
ant her to. I’d rather your agents look for Christophe than Devin. Nicolette will make sure of it.” Devin shrugged. “Don’t worry. The shield I cast cloaked you and Ryan. You aren’t in danger of discovery.”

  He waited until they were a block away to set off the alarms.

  When they were back in Jack’s car, Ryan reached into his pocket for the cellphone he carried there. Agent Spiller had given it to him. He handed it to Devin, who put the phone on speaker after he dialed. They listened in fascination as he slipped into heavily accented French.

  “You’re a dead man, LeFleur. My diamonds are at the bottom of a lake,” Gueraldi said with a cold fury. “We’ve discussed incompetence before.”

  “Are they now? Then what do I have in my possession? Those were copies. I have the necklace.”

  “If you bring it to me, I might kill you quickly rather than drag it out.”

  “Patience. I intend to bring it to you, but I wish to make a bargain, Gueraldi. I think you have acquired something very valuable to a friend of mine. I’d have it back.”

  “No.”

  “I have in my possession the necklace along with a bonus. I’ll give them to you for Olivia Corrigan. I know you have her.”

  “What could make you think I would even consider dealing with you?”

  “How would you like to own the Hope Diamond?”

  “You’re lying.”

  “I have it. I’ll be there within the hour. I’ll show you mine. You show me yours.” Gueraldi hung up the phone and picked it up again almost immediately.

  “What if he won’t take the bait? I just wish I knew Liv was all right.” Jack’s words held a wealth of despair. After the screw up at the museum, he didn’t have a lot of faith in Devin right now. He’d just left that woman. Jack had watched their tussle on the floor. Whether it was the writer in him or the cop, he noticed things others took for granted. She had been or was Devin’s lover. That was just cold. So why did he care one way or the other what happened to Liv?