Elemental Soul (The Eldritch Files Book 5)

by Phaedra Weldon

  Arden didn't answer.

  "Why is it such a secret? Ivan's whereabouts?"

  "I promised not to tell you. It's better you don't know."

  "Then for the last time, get out, Arden. I just can't stand to look at you."

  "No. I'm not going. We have to clear the air. You have to let me apologize."

  "No, I don't." I slipped the gun into my bag before I hefted it on my shoulder again. "And since it's now obvious you should be here and I shouldn't, I'll be going."

  The door swung closed when I turned toward it. I tried opening it by yanking on the knob and turning it, but it refused to budge. I didn't even look at her as I fished out her key and threw it at her. "I hate you."

  "I know you do."

  "I can't stand that you breathe the same air as me. As Crwys."

  "Sam—"

  "And stop calling me that!" I didn't drop the bag. Instead, I held onto the handle at my shoulder until I was white-knuckled. If she wanted to be locked in the same room as me, then it was her funeral. "Only my friends can call me Sam."

  "Okay."

  "You want to clear the air? Guess what? It'll never be clear. You betrayed the man I love. You betrayed me. How dare you fucking trade another person's life for your own. How dare you decide who lives and who dies. You're not the Lady or the Lord and you don't have that right."

  "The deal—"

  "Bullshit!" This time I dropped the bag and advanced on her. I didn't grab her or choke her like I wanted to. But I did shove that finger of mine back in her face. "Don't you dare use that deal with a Faerie queen as an excuse. I had a deal with a queen. The same damn bitch. She wanted me to turn over a friend of mine. She wanted him for probably the same reason she wanted Crwys—to give herself power. I was in the same position. But here's the difference between us, Arden. I refused. I didn't give my friend up to her. I fought back, and I found a way to thwart her.

  "But you actively participated in kidnapping Crwys. You stared me in the face and never warned me. Never once thought to give us a heads up. Confide in us. Together, we could have found a way past Brendi. All those Faeries who died…they could still be alive if it weren't for your cowardice.

  "This place is better off with one less power-grabbing whore of a Witch, thinking only of herself. But he's a better person than I am. He's better suited to forgive where I can't. You took him from me. Let me believe he'd abandoned me. You knew what I was going through and still…you did nothing.

  "Nothing, Arden. So let me give you a piece of advice. Watch yourself with me. I'll be watching you. And if you so much as look at Crwys wrong, I'll shoot you in the head and make it look like an accident. Do I make myself clear?"

  I wasn't sure what I expected as a reaction to my little outburst. I said a few things I'd wanted to say for weeks. And I said a few things I probably shouldn't have said. I knew that threatening the life of the High Witch was a bad thing to do, but no matter how you painted her, I would never see Arden as such.

  I didn't expect her to rear back and slap me hard against my left cheek. The impact snapped my head to the right and I took a few steps back to steady myself.

  The physical sting came first as I slowly put my hand to my burning cheek. The sting to my pride came a few seconds later when I heard my Sylph hiss at Arden, standing less than a foot away from me. Now I really, really wanted to send her ass out of the room and into the wall across the landing. And I didn't care what Cromwell or the rest of those old shits did to me in their righteous need to punish. Let them try to warlock me again!

  I lowered my hand and focused my magic on a single point on her forehead, just above her nose. Her third eye. The focus of thought. Concentration. And above all, power. Most believed the power came from the solar plexus, the divine connection between our soul and the Well of Souls.

  No. Ina…no, Dionysus…taught me where the true focus of power resided. And if I could blast a hole into that spot, I'd revoke whatever gifts the Goddess gave her. I held my arms out to my sides and let my Sylph loose on the room. Arden turned to see my little warrior by the door, heft her axe in her hand, readying it in case she tried to run.

  My Salamander flared bright as it transformed into an exact replica of my missing Smith & Wesson. I took him where he floated in the air in front of me. The flaming gun didn't burn me. It was barely a tickle. But I felt it connect with my will as I pointed it at her head.

  "Sam," Arden straightened up and threw her shoulders back. "You can do this if you want, but it's not going to protect him. And it's not going to protect your coven. Until Dionysus is destroyed, everyone is still in danger."

  "Shut up," I said as I hooked my finger around the trigger. I thought I'd hear that voice again—the one that always prodded me into doing things I felt bad about doing. The tiny voice of power that I'd associated with my Arcane. I hadn't heard it in weeks, and now when I needed it to reassure me this was the right thing to do, it wasn't there.

  There was no Arcane at all in the flaming gun. Or in the wind that tossed loose paper and debris about Ivan's apartment.

  "Can you sense it, Sam? Something's wrong. Something very vital is wrong with you. We weren't sure until today, during the Tribunal. An ill wind is blowing and people will die if you don't listen to Cromwell, and to me. I'm sorry for what I did, but I can only say it so many times. I was scared and afraid." She kept her voice even as she faced down my flaming gun and the wind around us. She focused on me and didn't look back at the Gnome again. "I don't have your strength. That's Elizabeth coming through. Her soul within yours. But to get this done, to defeat and stop Dionysus, we're going to have to do it together."

  I wanted to fire at her. I wanted to take her out. I shook. My hand shook, my body shook, my knees shook. All of it from rage, anger, resentment and hatred, all directed at her. When I looked at her all I could see was Crwys hanging over that pit, and his blood slowly dripping into the basin below. He'd been in so much pain.

  "You…hurt him. A man who never did one wrong thing to you." My voice sounded so small to me. And it shook.

  "I know."

  "Do you know what Brendi did to him?"

  "I…didn't see it. But I was told. And I could feel his pain while I endured his curse."

  My tone hardened. "You deserved his curse."

  "Yes, I did. And he was gracious enough to heal me at great cost to himself. But he only did it because you told him to."

  That much was right. I could boast to myself and everyone that would listen to me that I'd have let her die, but when the truth came down to it, I couldn't. That would hurt Kyle, and the three men in my life were the most precious things to me. To hurt any of them would be to hurt myself.

  Arden stepped toward me and put her hands on my mine holding the flaming gun. I thought she'd try to take it from me, and I would have been very happy to see my Salamander burn her. But she didn't. Arden moved the gun so that the barrel rested against the middle of her forehead. "If this is what will make up for what I did, then shoot. I'll take the consequences."

  That was something I really, really didn't expect. I'd known Arden a while, and before that I knew about her through her nephew. Arden being self-sacrificing?

  No.

  She moved her hands and closed her eyes.

  "Oh, please," I snorted as I lowered the gun. The Salamander released its form and vanished. I felt him sigh with relief before all of my Elementals vanished. I knew, and she probably did as well, that my Elementals would never have allowed me to critically hurt Arden. Oh, I could have marginally done some damage, but nothing long lasting. "Don't bullshit me, Arden. You'd no more stand there and let me shoot you than my Elementals would allow me to shoot you."

  Her eyes were still closed. So I did the next best thing. I returned her right cross. And I didn't stop. I hit and slapped and kicked until my knuckles bled and I finally gave out of breath. Not once did Arden return a blow or a slap. She took it all from me and never made a sound.

  And now I fe
lt all awkward and stupid and…I felt like a bully.

  Finally, I sat down against the couch and curled my legs up under me. My Undine appeared and encased my hands in cold water to ease the pain and the swelling.

  Arden's Undine did the same by moving cold water over her cheek. Nothing like a good girl fight to get the blood flow going. Even if it was one sided. I wondered if my hair was as messed up as hers.

  "Are you…satisfied now?" She sounded funny, talking through a swollen lip.

  "Satisfied?" I shook my head as I watched my little Elemental work. "No. I'll never forgive you, Arden. And I will never trust you."

  "You'll have to change that."

  "No. I won't."

  "You will. You're a Cleric now."

  "That's all bullshit, you know it."

  "It's not bullshit. You've got to master Spirit. Once it syncs with your Arcane then it will balance the flow of power again…"

  Syncs with my Arcane?

  I must have done something or made some physical move because she looked at me like a deer in headlights. "Oh, sweet Lady. He didn't talk to you about that, did he?"

  "What do you mean syncs with it?"

  "Once Cromwell was certain you'd been infected, he was so excited. It's why he warlocked you…so your Arcane would…grow stronger…why are you looking at me like that?"

  I dismissed my Undine with thanks. My knuckles were hurting and stiff, but they weren't swollen and the skin was mending nicely. I was in a lot better shape than Arden's face. I moved up onto my knees and towered over her. "He warlocked me so my Arcane would grow stronger?"

  "Sam…this isn't a conversation you and I should be having. This is something you need to talk to Cromwell about. I only brought it up because I thought that's what he talked to you about this morning."

  "He failed to mention any ties between my Arcane and mastering Spirit." I scratched at my chest. Suddenly it itched. A lot. And then it burned. I half collapsed on the couch as I fumbled with the buttons at the neck of the dress.

  Arden was suddenly in front of me trying to help. I batted at her and kicked so she would go away. "Stop it, girl," she said as she pushed my hands away and finished unbuttoning the front. I gritted my teeth against the sudden searing pain, and when she parted the fabric, Arden's reaction scared me. "Sweet Lord and Lady!"

  "What?" I said as I looked down.

  I put my hand on the exact spot where the raised scar had once been. Once been because it wasn't there anymore. The only thing remaining was a half-healed indention, a concave circle made of half-raw flesh and scabs of fluid and blood.

  "Sam…what is that?" Arden looked like she was grossed out, but her voice was full of concern.

  "It was…" I heard myself say as I put my hands on the puckered flesh. "It was my mark. The Arcane mark." I swallowed as I looked up into her soft brown eyes. "It's gone."

  EIGHT

  CRWYS & SAMANTHA

  Crwys dropped Levi off at the station before he continued on to the shop. Bell, Book and Candle was dark by the time he got there. The streets were still filled with tourists but with a gentle honk of his horn or rev of his engine they got out of the way.

  Parking behind the building, he noticed Sam's Jeep. She was home, which took some of the stress away. He hadn't heard from her all day, which made him uneasy. They'd spent so much time together after she rescued him that when they were apart, he felt as if he were missing a part of himself.

  The New Orleans night air was thick and muggy and smelled of beer and cigarettes as he stepped into the back of the shop and reset the alarm. The kitchen light was on and the electric kettle was warm. Maybe she just got in? He checked the water level. It was full. Perhaps she'd turned it on before she went upstairs and forgot about it. He decided to make them both a cup of tea and then he'd go up and hold her to him, allow her feel and her scent to wash away the craziness of the day.

  He and Levi were still at square one with the investigation. Levi wanted to bring the parents in to question them about their daughter's disappearance. But Crwys didn't want to bring them in to talk about Cheryl. It might rekindle their hope in finding their daughter. He didn't want them to hope needlessly. Because his lover was the one that killed her. And there wasn't a body to find. He'd seen to that in order to protect Sam.

  So much of his life had been heading down this kind of twisted path in the past half century. To be responsible for pain and also be the one to administer the anesthesia. I killed all those other Ghouls, each of which had a life, a family and friends that miss them. I am a God in sheep's clothing, moving among them with the power of life and death.

  What a fucking joke.

  And now there was some kind of Faerie, or something, out there that could suck the souls out of people. Either it was somehow tied to Arwen / Cheryl and Dionysus or it was one hell of a coincidence. Maybe it was a creature that looked for abandoned homes, scoped them out, checked on public records and then just used them as storage.

  Storage. He stood in front of the kettle as it clicked, warmed to the appropriate temperature. But Crwys didn't move. He saw a bricked wall in his mind again. Cool red bricks with fresh mortar. And then it dripped blood from the cracks in between. Blood fell in tiny rivers down the front of that brick wall.

  He saw Sam on an altar with a long knife poised over her chest. She was nude from the waist up, the mark visible for everyone to see. Again, he tried to stop the hooded man from plunging that knife in. And again, he found himself bound by chains and weakened by the Arrow in his heart.

  Crwys screamed as the knife plunged down again as it had before in his dream.

  He came awake again, but he wasn't in bed and he wasn't in the kitchen. He looked around, realizing he was in the basement of the shop. He was in the room where the safe had been. Medbh's head. It was in the safe, wasn't it? But the safe room was gone. In front of him stood a brick wall from floor to ceiling.

  The brick was cool as he put his hand on it. He traced the mortar. New mortar. Evenly spaced. Expertly lain. Professional. But…wasn't there a door here? Was the safe behind the wall? He moved to the right, then the left.

  Crwys pressed his ear against the wall to listen. He flattened his hands and closed his eyes. He needed to hear something. He needed to…remember…

  He smelled blood. Fresh. Human. And he smelled Arcane. A lot of it. As he moved his hand over the brick he had more flashes of things… Sam with her nightshirt covered in blood. Sam with a trowel in her hand. Sam…

  The memories were there…just out of reach…her hand in front of him…her hair sprinkled with dust…her chest…

  He saw blood seeping through cotton again.

  With a sound behind him, Crwys opened his eyes. He turned to see Sam standing in the doorway. She was dressed for bed in one of his shirts that hung to her thighs. Her hair was up on her head and her face and features were hidden in the shadow cast by the light bulb in the room behind her.

  "Hey, babe," he said and wondered why he felt as if he'd done something wrong. "I was going to make tea. Are you thirsty?"

  When she didn't move, he took another look and saw she had a flaming gun in her hand. What the hell was that? When she stepped into the smaller room, the single light over his head revealed her face.

  He saw her fully black eyes, ebony from lid to lid. And when she smiled at him, he saw her long, needle-like fangs just before she put her hand over his eyes.

  She said a single word that echoed down through time. "Ikkibu."

  Forbidden.

  * * *

  SAMANTHA

  I didn't hear Crwys get in, but he was beside me when I woke, his arm draped over my shoulder and his scruffy chin nuzzled against the back of my neck. I gave him a few kisses as I slipped out of bed. He didn't move.

  The sun was up and the clock said eight. I made my way to the bathroom and pulled my sleeping shirt over my head. I couldn't help but see the scar. The crater where the mark had once been. I couldn't fathom what had happened or
when it happened. Arden insisted it looked as if something had been cut out—but when? By who? And why the hell didn't I remember it?

  And…why? Not many knew about the mark on my chest. Just my immediate friends, Crwys, Cromwell and apparently Arden. But I knew her faces, and the one she'd given me when she saw the wound was shock. She had been just as surprised as I had.

  I tried to recall the last time I'd looked at it as I stared at the raw flesh in the mirror. Was it the night before last? The day before that? A week? Since Crwys's return I hadn't used much Arcane…if at all.

  Those weeks were strictly me healing him and staying by his side. And not once could I remember the mark sinking into me or not being there. Is this why it itched all day under that dress? But wouldn't I have seen it when I showered? Put on clothes? Brushed my hair? Or at least seen it wasn't there?

  I held out my hand to test a theory that crept into my dreams. I thought of the unicorn I'd made before, the one I'd unconsciously created for Ivan that afternoon. It'd been made of pure Arcane mingled with the Elements. I focused on the place above my hand and went through the same steps.

  Nothing happened. Not a slight sparkle of red. Not even that blue. That's when I banged my head against the mirror. I really had lost my Arcane. Either it disappeared or it was stolen. And again, if it was stolen, then why couldn't I remember it?

  Crwys would have noticed, wouldn't he? I stepped out of the bathroom and looked at him in the bed. He was magnificent, if not a bit pale. Dark circles shadowed his eyes. Those shadows seemed out of place on him. Was he not getting enough sleep? Was it the job? He had to have come in late last night since I didn't get home before ten. Maybe it was a new case that had him so tired.

  I checked the clock on the nightstand again. Levi was going to wonder where he was if he didn't get up and get out the door. I figured if I made coffee, the smell might help. I threw on a t-shirt, jeans and a pair of duck slippers Ivan bought me. I have no idea why he bought me duck slippers. I disliked ducks. They were mean and usually chased me.