Elemental Storm (The Eldritch Files Book 6)

by Phaedra Weldon

  I was glad Crwys was taking the morning off. He looked bad yesterday. "She told you that?" I wondered if Grey had been opening up to Kyle and Ivan. It was sort of one-sided most of the time since she didn't allow them to hear her.

  "No, Crwys said that's what she wanted. She was still in the bed with him when we left the shop," Ivan piped up. "What's wrong with him anyway? I've seen him use his power before and not blink. But last night wiped him out."

  "I don't know. He got in the bed with me in the hospital and instantly fell asleep. Took a bit to wake him."

  "Yeah?" Ivan twisted in his seat to see me. "He went out like a light last night. I had to help Kyle drag his heavy ass up the steps. Is he so heavy because he's condensed his enormous form into a human one?"

  "I have no idea, Ivan."

  He faced the front as Kyle turned and headed up Canal, and then turned down Decatur. "I'm not sure how that works. I just prefer him as a human and not a Dragon."

  "You both have seen him in that form," Kyle said. "I haven't."

  "It'll make you want to wet your pants," Ivan said. "Is he sick? Or…can Dragons even get sick?"

  "Maybe this is a lingering effect of that arrow?" Kyle piped up.

  "Beats me. If there's a Grey's Anatomy for Dragons, I'd love to get a copy."

  "You're marrying him." Kyle glanced at me. "You need to know all you can. I mean…what if he poops on the rug because you cook him something a Dragon can't eat?"

  I laughed as I looked at the ring on my finger, amazed at the sparkle as it caught the morning light. Kyle was right. I needed to know more about the man I loved, about his past, his history, how he could live for so long and not be some basket case, or worse, a sacrifice-demanding God who rules the Earth. Because when I thought about it, I knew on some level the vision Arden had about Crwys burning the world could become a reality. A Dragon loose out there could destroy life as we knew it. And considering our government's proclivity for shooting anything it doesn't understand, there would be debates about lobbing nuclear warheads at it.

  I was in love with danger. I knew this. I just wasn't sure if I would like the truths as they were, and not how I imagined them to be. The discovery of his weakness with Artemis's Bow was enough to terrify me. I wanted him to remain invincible. But I wanted him to be my invincible.

  "Park fu" was in full force as we found a parking spot between the Moonwalk and Café Du Monde. But then, there weren't that many cars in the lot. And the café looked half-deserted for a Thursday morning. After locking the car, we grabbed a table, ordered beignets and coffee—Kyle got a soda since he didn't do coffee—and Ivan went over what he'd found out about the Dybbuk.

  Ivan had to finish a whole beignet before he talked. I took a napkin and wiped at the powdered sugar around his chin. He grinned. "All the information I could come up with on just what a Dybbuk is said the same thing. It's Jewish in origin, the word meaning to adhere or to cling." His eyes unfocused and glowed a soft green behind his shades. My phone and Kyle's buzzed at the same time. When I looked at mine I had a text from Ivan with a bunch of information and links on Dybbuks. "In short, it's a possessing spirit. Malicious, nasty, mean, angry, just flat out diabolical, and apparently single-goal-focused."

  I skimmed a few of the links just as Kyle said, "I see it says they'll leave the object they possess when their goal is accomplished."

  "Yep." Ivan removed his shades and rubbed his eyes. "So that's a Dybbuk, which Sam says is part of that ring. But I couldn't find anything on them possessing a lot of power."

  "Power for what?" Kyle looked at him. "You mean like what happened last night? I thought Dharma said that was an Air Elemental."

  "But was it an Elemental in the house where you guys found the ring?" I said as I picked up a beignet and tapped it against the powdered-sugar-filled plate. "A Dybbuk, by itself, couldn't dump a couch on Crwys." I took a bite, careful not to breathe in or out. The pastry was warm and crunchy and sugary and hit the spot. I hadn't had anything decent to eat since…wow…Tuesday night when Crwys and I had dinner at the Bourbon House, which preceded an impromptu pub crawl. Man that Drachen could hold his liquor.

  "And when I got the ring again, it all stopped," Ivan said as he brushed powdered sugar off his shirt. Well, he really just smeared it.

  "What if…what if the Dybbuk is an Air Elemental?" Kyle said.

  "No." I bit into the beignet again and chewed. "Two very different things. A Dybbuk is a possession-based entity. Elementals aren't. They're more…" I shrugged. "Co-op."

  "But what we encountered in that room when you touched it"—Ivan looked at Kyle—"that wasn't a possessing spirit. That felt powerful."

  I leaned forward. "None of this is making any sense."

  Kyle wiped his mustache and goatee. "Ivan, look up references to a ghost priest. Oh, and did you look up the ring?"

  "Doing that now." Ivan put his shades back on as the familiar green glow outlined the rim of the shades.

  I finished off the beignet, and my stomach cramped. I was still surprised at the half-empty cafe…as well as the streets. I hadn't seen that many cars moving down Decatur either. "Is there a road closing somewhere?"

  Thunder rolled overhead as wind blew sugar everywhere.

  Kyle shook his head. "News this morning said there was some weird malaise going around. A cold or something. The hospitals were starting to get reports of people unable to get out of bed. There were a few suicides last night. A lot more than usual."

  Okay, that was alarming.

  Our phones buzzed again. I looked down to see an image of a man in a long robe dragging two pretty shady looking guys down a cobblestone road in a wood carving relief. "What is that?"

  "I hit pay dirt," Ivan said as he removed his shades again, and again rubbed his eyes. I looked at him and noticed he wasn't looking that good either. "I actually did a search of the ring and a ghost priest together, and I found a few references to a ring that belonged to a man in Charleston, South Carolina who was once known as the Black Constable. He was a necromancer and a hoodoo man. Lived back in the 1880s."

  Kyle and I scrolled down to look at this Black Constable information on our phones. "Ah…he had a serpent ring. He claimed it could raise the dead and control spirits. That explains the zombies."

  "That's not the big part," Ivan said. "It says sailors used to buy wind from him, because he could control storms."

  We all looked at each other. Then I picked up my coffee as I scanned another link provided by Ivan. "He's been described as an older man in a priest's robe. Or a cassock. This is the ghost that attacked Crwys." I put my coffee down. "I'm going to assume this is the Dybbuk, given the history of this guy and it makes sense he could be bound to his own ring."

  Ivan pointed out, "That might be why either he was attracted to your Sylph, or your Sylph was attracted to him. He controls wind."

  I got what Ivan was hypothesizing. "I guess…I mean, it could be that this Black Constable was controlling my Sylph and forced him to cut his ties to me?" Wow. That was a long shot. "This thing would have to be very powerful to overpower an Elemental. And if it has that kind of power, then I don't see how it's a simple Dybbuk."

  Kyle's phone buzzed, and he got up to take a call. I kept reading. This Black Constable was also in demand when it came to settling legal affairs. I guess that's where the Black Constable name came from. They preferred seeking him out before going to the police.

  The way he died caught my attention. Apparently it was believed his ego did him in when he compared himself to Jesus after dragging two thieves through the streets of Charleston, having a thief on either side of himself. Something invisible strangled him in plain sight, and his body shriveled to nothing.

  Now I had to wonder if this guy hadn't been a Vampire.

  "Is there any way we can prove this is the Black Constable's ring?" Ivan asked. He wiped powdered sugar off of his mouth.

  I shrugged. "I'm sure there is, but I don't know it. Ask Arden. I'd say ask Mambo Nad
een, but since she's no longer…here." I had an old memory niggle at me. Something I'd heard about Nadeen when I first moved back to New Orleans after college. A piece of information Ina—Dionysus—had.

  Something about her that had already been brought up.

  She was a Storm Warden. That had to figure into everything that'd happened in the last twenty-four hours.

  Are you there?

  -Yes.-

  Are you listening?

  -Always. If you are wondering about Mambo Nadeen, I know that she sat on the councils of several magical committees in town and worked to help stabilize a peace between the Witches and the Lycans.-

  You mean the thing Arden helped with by giving them pack land?

  -Yes. She was key in that negotiation. Among her titles, she was also known as a Storm Warden.-

  What exactly is that?

  -Different practices of voodoo and conjure, more commonly known as hoodoo, designate representations of the Elements, just as Witches converse, associate, and pledge binding contracts with Elementals. They call them Wardens. These Wardens safeguard specific towns and provinces they live in and around. As Storm Warden, Mambo Nadeen's Element was Air.-

  This was important! I relayed what my Arcane had said to Ivan, and Kyle caught the end of it as he returned to the table.

  "And your Arcane told you this?" Kyle said as he sipped his soda.

  "Yeah. I asked and that's what it said." I sat back. "I think this ties in with her death. Why else kill her? These boys were influenced, or whatever, to buy this silver serpent ring. What if the ring, this Black Constable, wanted Nadeen dead so it could actually manifest? And it killed her, took her knife, and took my Sylph to use. It says the ring helped him command spirits."

  "That's all well and good." Ivan brushed his hands over his shirt. "But you don't have any proof of any of that. First, we don't know if this is the Black Constable. Second, Nadeen's passing was ruled as death by accident, as in a short got to her ticker. And yes, I did break into the security at the hospital to get a look at that certificate. Third, you're talking about a ghost here, Sam. Saying a ghost influenced those boys into somehow killing Mambo Nadeen and stealing her knife, which was in turn used to sever your Elemental…" He tilted his head to the side. "Do you see how nuts this sounds without getting the facts?"

  "I'm hesitant to guess," Kyle said. "We just don't know. Too many unanswered questions."

  We finished up and did a few rounds of the French Market, but we didn't find a booth called Forgotten Relics. Finally, after watching Ivan examine some pieces of jewelry, I tapped the merchant showing Ivan the jewelry on the shoulder. "Excuse me, but is there a company called Forgotten Relics that operates here?"

  "Oh, yeah." She nodded. She had a brownie in one hand and a coffee from Café Du Monde in the other. "But they're only here on Saturdays. Some chick who works for the government runs it, so Saturday's the only day she's free."

  That little piece of information seemed odd. The three of us glanced at one another, so I leaned toward her. "You mean the U.S. government or—"

  The lady laughed. "Oh no. The New Orleans government. Or something. I just know she said she worked for the city, that's all."

  "I see." Working for the city could mean any one of the thousands of government jobs in a town as large as New Orleans. "Could you describe this woman?"

  "Tall…" The girl sipped her coffee. "Kinda pretty. Very thin. She always keeps a scarf on her head, so I sort of thought it was part of a religious thing, you know. She is nice."

  Ivan spoke up, "No name?"

  "No. She called herself Maggie."

  Maggie. A government woman named Maggie. "No last name?"

  "I don't know it. She's only had the booth for two or three weeks." She snapped her fingers. "Oh, and she has a strange accent. Not from around here. I hope that helps?"

  I smiled and thanked her, and the three of us started back to the car. So we needed to find a girl named Maggie with a strange accent that worked for the city and had no last name. Great.

  As we walked back to the car, I fell into step with Kyle. "You're awfully quiet. What's wrong?"

  "It's Jack. Pack stuff."

  "Oh? Is it still about Bastien?"

  "Yes and no. I don't know enough to really tell you, because Jack isn't confiding in me. Whatever it is, it's keeping him busy, and he's been really tense lately. I wanted to see him tonight, but that was him calling and canceling."

  Oh. I got into the back of the car. "Is tonight special?"

  "It's our six month anniversary. I know it's not a big thing, but I'd like to at least have dinner. Or spend some quality time with him."

  I could relate to what he was saying. But this made me wonder about Bastien and the pack. There had been a lot of problems back in March when the loss of Bastien's animus, the wolf part of him, had prevented the Alpha from shifting. But now that that was all settled and things were back to normal, I figured the pack would be happy.

  Apparently not. I hadn't seen or heard from Bastien since then. I didn't even know if he was alive. The jerk hadn't kept in touch, which was bad on me because I knew he thought he loved me. He claimed he bonded with me—and truth be told, I could feel it every day through the link. But lately that connection wasn't as strong, and I had to wonder if he'd done something to block that connection between us.

  It shouldn't bother me. I was marrying another man. But it did.

  Kyle cranked the car. "Jack made it sound like Bastien coming to the hospital broke some kind of law."

  I touched his arm. "Bastien was at the hospital?"

  "Yeah. Last night. He and Ben. What? Crwys didn't tell you?"

  "No. He didn't. I would have liked to talk to Bastien."

  Ivan snorted from the front seat. "Not with Crwys around."

  This was true. The two of them tolerated each other. And tolerate was a very thin word. If I ever wanted to talk to Bastien, I was going to have to do it on my own. The fact he'd come to the hospital was a start. He didn't completely hate me.

  And I worried about how relieved that made me feel.

  ELEVEN

  It was after two by the time we got back to Bell, Book and Candle, and Crwys was out of bed and at work. Ivan helped Kyle with the photos Crwys took of Nadeen's altar. After that, Ivan headed to Arden's, anxious to get back to Dharma. I stood behind the counter at the computer, looking at the pictures again with Kyle. "He's gonna handfast that girl," I muttered to no one in particular.

  "Uh huh," Kyle said absently as he moved the enlarged picture around the screen. He pointed to the right of the altar. "See? There it is. A dust outline."

  "Yeah…" I narrowed my eyes. "So what's all that stuff in that bowl?"

  "Crwys and I talked about that. It looked like she'd recently set a spell in motion. See the small candles and the burnt incense sticks in the brazier? What we need are pictures of her altar before the murder."

  "Well, we don't need to bother Crwys for that. I can ask Ivan to look that up. There's got to be an old article, newspaper clipping, or blog about Nadeen somewhere, and you know how they always love to take pictures of the Witchy stuff in front of altars."

  "Sam"—Kyle leaned back and looked at me—"is Crwys all right? It's just you and me, so you can be honest, you know."

  I raised my shoulders to my ears in an over-exaggerated shrug. "I have no idea. Everyone keeps asking me that, and I don't have the answer. He's been weaker since the incident with Arden and Brendi. I mean it just seems that way. He's not as…powerful or sure of himself. I've said it before, but I have to wonder if that arrow didn't permanently damage him in some way."

  "Maybe it's not just the Arrow?"

  "What do you mean?" I narrowed my eyes at him.

  "Think about it. He's a Dragon, so that's got to count for a good bit of his ego. I'm not saying that in a bad way, it's just…he knows he's a badass. Look how long he's been alive. Then out of the blue, he's shot in the heart and dragged into Faerie where he's p
owerless. That has got to be a blow not only to the old ego, but I'm pretty sure his self-confidence took a massive hit too."

  My jaw hung open. I'd never looked at it that way. I'd just assumed his recent cautious behavior was just that—him being cautious, because he was betrayed. But it made sense that Crwys would have a bit less confidence in his abilities due to that, because Arden showed him he wasn't invincible.

  "Wow, Sam…did I say something wrong?"

  "No—you've just got me thinking now. Before he was kidnapped, he always seemed a bit more reckless. Had more of a…more bravado. Now…not so much." I sighed. "If that's true…then how's he going to rebuild that confidence? How do you recover from something like that?" I mean…really. To think, Hey, I'm immortal and you can't hurt me, to realizing there was something out there that could hurt you, and possibly kill you.

  "Look, I have no idea of the business of Dragons"—Kyle smirked—"any more than I know the business of Lycans. Apogee or perigee. They're both a damn mystery to me."

  "Still no word from Jack?

  "No." He turned back to the pictures. "You'd think six months would mean something."

  The door behind me moved, the one into the break room. I sensed Grey as I heard her nails clicking on the hardwood floor. Someone's coming.

  I felt the pressure in the shop, and my ears popped seconds before the bell over the door jingled. Martin Cosgrove, new Grand High Master of the Parliament, for the Southeast I should clarify, stepped inside. Along with him came a subtle, but steady hum. I sensed his Elementals immediately as they called to my own. My Salamander cheered because he was the most social of my Elementals. All of them manifested and moved to the far side of the room near Kyle's novena to have a little Elemental powwow.

  That was the first time I'd seen that happen. Seriously? Elementals discussing things over the water cooler?

  Just behind Cosgrove was his new assistant, Ethel Delacroix. Cromwell never had an assistant, but Cosgrove felt it was necessary to have someone keep up with the day-to-day runnings of the Cleric Office. She was also the one that accused me of requisitioning things I never signed for. I wasn't all that impressed with her either. She was tall, like Cosgrove, and thin. Her dark mousy hair must've been long, but she kept it in a tight bun at the back of her neck and her huge round owl glasses hid most of her face. I sensed magic about her and assumed she was Dianic, but not Elemental. She dressed down, always keeping to neutral colors and about ten years past current fashion. Once or twice I thought I saw scarring along the left side of her neck, but it seemed once I noticed it, the marks disappeared. I'd mentioned this to Kyle not long ago, and he'd assumed she was using a simple glamour spell to hide it.