“It’s scary what a good actor you are. You almost have me believing that you feel bad about all of this,” Joey told him.
Augustine stared at the ground for a long moment. Then he said quietly, “Not that I expect you to care, but Jin did something to me when he came to my hotel and took Alastair. While I was knocked out, he somehow pulled my humanity to the foreground and made it impossible to shut off. Which, I’m sure, is all part of that ‘watching me suffer’ scenario.” Augustine sighed and muttered, “I’d managed to bury my humanity so deep down that I’m surprised he could even find it.”
“What does that mean? That you have feelings now?” Lu asked.
“I always had feelings, aside from guilt. But now I get to experience remorse for more than fifteen centuries of murder and destruction.” Augustine continued to stare at nothing while Lu wondered how he resisted throwing himself on a stake.
“Ok, hang on,” Joey said. “Are you telling me that even with your humanity back, you kept us locked up and starving for three days?”
Augustine looked up at him. “You weren’t my priority. Alastair was. I told you I spent two days trying to work a locator spell to find him. I was so drained afterwards that it’s a miracle I was able to take down the prison spell at all, let alone in only a day.”
The cab they’d called pulled up to the curb then and everyone piled in, Augustine in front, Lu and Joey in back.
Lu glanced out the window, not really noticing the city as it rolled by. Seeing Ted had stirred up a lot of emotions, but this wasn’t the time to deal with any of that. She tried to clear her head and focus on the task at hand.
“Do you really think Bryn can find Alastair?” she asked after a while.
“I’ve learned to never underestimate Bryn. If anyone can manage a spell like this, it’s him,” Joey told her.
A thought occurred to Lu. “When Alastair went missing in Ashland, why didn’t you call Bryn then?”
Joey grinned. “I know it seems like we constantly go running to him whenever we need help, but that isn’t actually the case. Bryn has plenty to deal with already, without involving him in all of our problems too. That said, I would have called him if Alastair had stayed missing any longer.”
Eventually the cab came to a stop, and Joey handed a few bills through the partition to the indifferent driver. They were in an industrial part of town, litter and graffiti punctuating the landscape. Joey and Augustine stepped out onto the sidewalk and Lu slid out too, tugging at her skirt as she came around the back of the cab, wishing for a few extra inches of fabric.
As the taxi rolled away, Joey looked again at the address he’d scribbled when he’d spoken to Bryn. “Now did I write a five, or a two?” he wondered out loud, trying to decipher his own handwriting.
“It’s a two. Get in here,” Bryn called. He held open the door to an old warehouse made of dark red-brown bricks.
Lu and Joey preceded Augustine into the building, and Bryn grinned broadly. “Did you two just come from the prom?”
“You should talk, you could be coming from a prom yourself,” said Joey, tossing the brown paper bag with the now-empty blood units into a nearby trash can. The warlock was dressed in an elegant, perfectly tailored tuxedo, every dark hair in place. “Though actually, that tux makes you seem more mature somehow,” Joey observed. “Wait, did you do something to make yourself look older?”
Bryn nodded as they headed into the warehouse. “It’s tough to do business when you look like a nineteen year old kid. So when I’m in work mode, like I was in Sacramento, I cast a spell that makes people think I’m about thirty. It hasn’t worn off yet.”
“You don’t look thirty. You look maybe twenty-two,” Joey told him.
“That’s because you can see through most of it, pet. Anyone who knows me is able to look past the veneer, and only a little of your perception is altered.”
“So what’s with the tux?” Joey asked.
“I’m supposed to attend a charity function later tonight. I don’t want to go, but it’s actually in my honor. Why are you dressed up?”
“We needed some fresh clothes after Satan over there — ” he tilted his head to indicate Augustine, “— held us prisoner for the last couple days. We found these in the apartment of a dead vampire CEO when he finally let us go.”
“Armani looks good on you,” he told Joey. Bryn turned to Lu then and knit his brows in concern. “Are you ok? Augustine didn’t hurt you, did he?”
“I’m fine.” There was no point in going into the werewolf abduction story now.
Bryn looked her over and seemed to decide she was indeed ok. All her cuts and scrapes had healed completely thanks to Joey’s ministrations, and she looked no worse for wear.
They were walking past mountains of crates and boxes. It reminded Lu of the warehouse at the end of ‘Raiders of the Lost Ark.’ “What is this place?” she asked.
“Just one of my storage facilities,” said Bryn. “I’m a bit of a pack rat, I’m afraid.”
“Understatement of the century, Bryn,” Joey grinned.
“Oh!” The warlock suddenly stopped walking and turned to Joey. “I don’t know what just reminded me of this, but happy birthday!” He took Joey by the upper arms and kissed both his cheeks, then handed him a thick envelope. “I didn’t think I’d get a chance to give this to you in person, so that worked out well at least. Open it later when you can enjoy it, when we have Alastair back and you’re not worried sick about him.” He patted Joey’s cheek. “And we really are going to get him back. Don’t fret, love.”
Joey put the envelope in the inner pocket of his suit jacket, and then startled the warlock by grabbing him in a bear hug. “Thank you. I can’t believe you remembered my birthday. And thank you for helping us find Alastair.”
“Of course. He means a lot to me too, you know. And so do you,” Bryn said.
They resumed walking and finally entered a large room at the back of the warehouse. It was mostly empty, though a few boxes and crates were starting to fill in the corners. At one end of the room a little desk was set up, its surface cluttered with a computer and printer, books and stacks of paper.
Now the warlock acknowledged Augustine for the first time, coming to stand in front of him and appraising him through narrowed eyes. Suddenly Bryn drew back his fist and punched Augustine in the stomach, hard. The vampire dropped to his knees, gasping, and Bryn bent close to Augustine’s ear and said quietly, “That’s for taking Lu and Joey prisoner, and for all the suffering you’ve put Alastair through. And you know you deserve far, far worse.”
Bryn straightened up and took a step back then, and Augustine lunged at him. But the vampire bounced off thin air as if he’d hit a brick wall, landing hard on his back. Augustine sat up, glaring at the warlock as he said, “Really? Trapping me in an invisible box like a mime? What a tired cliché, Bryn.”
“You’d prefer to see it?” Bryn asked, tilting his head to the side and crossing his arms over his chest. Suddenly walls of fire raged around the vampire, shooting up to the twenty foot ceiling.
Lu gasped and took a step back instinctively. And then the fire was gone as quickly as it had appeared.
Augustine was on his feet, trying to look indifferent. “Oh please. Even I can do that.”
Bryn smirked at him then and shook his head, muttering, “I don’t know what I ever saw in you.”
“Yes you do,” Augustine said with a little grin.
“Wait, what?” Joey interjected. “You don’t know what you saw in him? You two weren’t —”
“Don’t judge me too harshly, Joey. It was over three hundred years ago, and I was young and stupid,” Bryn said embarrassedly.
“And in love,” Augustine added softly.
“A lot has changed, vampire,” Bryn muttered, turning his back to him. He took a deep breath to calm himself, then said to Joey and Lu, “I shouldn’t have brought that up, we need to stay focused. I don’t have much time. If I’m not out of here in two h
ours and on my way to that gala, my boyfriend is going to kill me. So let’s get started.”
“Absolutely no way are you getting a locator spell done in two hours,” Augustine told him. “Not even with the four of us acting as conduits.”
Bryn glanced over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow at Augustine, grinning a little. He sounded uncharacteristically American when he said, “Wanna bet?”
“Ok, let’s get to it,” Lu said, pushing her hair behind her ears. “How can I help?”
Bryn handed her a piece of chalk. “Here. Finish drawing the world.” The room got much brighter then and Lu saw that they were standing on the beginnings of a huge sketch of the earth, done in yellowish chalk on the dark concrete floor. She went to work completing the continents and outlining countries.
Bryn tossed Joey a piece of chalk as well and he joined in on the map. Meanwhile the warlock went to the computer and searched several files, finally pulling one up and sending it to print. The clunky old printer wheezed to life, slowly spitting out the document.
When that was done, Bryn superimposed a red four-pointed compass rose right over the top of the map. It was maybe ten feet in diameter, and in the center where the four arms came together was an intricate starburst shape. He drew it by subtly fanning out his fingers, instead of actually using chalk and getting his hands dirty.
Still, when he concluded, the warlock brushed his palms together and inspected his tuxedo for smudges. “Hmm. I suppose this isn’t an ideal outfit for the task at hand.” He crossed the room and took a pair of huge light blue coveralls from a hook, then pulled them on over his tux, turning back the cuffs again and again. Bryn was nearly six feet tall, and the coveralls appeared to belong to someone more than a foot taller and three times as heavy. Lu could only wonder who or what they belonged to.
“Couldn’t you just have waved your hand for the map as well, instead of making us draw it?” Joey wanted to know.
“Of course I could have. That was just to keep you occupied while I found and printed my document. Besides, it’s good for you to practice your geography.” Bryn smiled cheerfully as he added, “And by the way, you totally botched Central America.” He almost imperceptibly flicked a finger, and several lines on the map rearranged themselves. Then he got serious and gave instructions. “Ok, let’s do this. Luna my dear, go and sit at the south point of the compass, if you please. Joey, you take the north, and I’ll take the west. Gus, you know where you can go.”
Augustine frowned at the nickname and the veiled insult, but started to do as he was told. He hesitated and put his hand out, but the invisible barrier was no longer there. So he went and took his place at the east ordinal as the warlock grinned and told him, “It’d be a bit juvenile to let you walk into a wall. Not that I didn’t consider it.”
Bryn took his spot, sitting on the floor at the west ordinal, and smiled brightly. “It’s been ages since I worked one of these. It’s going to be fun. Oh, and just so you know, I reinforced all the wards on the warehouse, so no one can burst in and interrupt us while we’re in the middle of this.”
“No one but me.” They all turned in the direction of a heavily French-accented voice. A handsome young man of about twenty with skin the color of espresso and wide brown eyes was grinning at them. He was dressed in a tuxedo and had a Louis Vuitton garment bag draped over his arm, which he now hung on the same hook the coveralls had been on. “Sorry to interrupt! I was absolutely sure Bryn would be wrecking his tuxedo in tonight’s endeavor, so I brought him a spare. But I see you are taking care of it, amour.” He walked over to Bryn and kissed the top of his head.
“This,” said Bryn, beaming at the young man, “Is my boyfriend Philippe. Who, I suspect, is here for more than just wardrobe assistance. Come to watch me work, love?”
“Do you mind?” Philippe’s dark eyes sparkled with excitement. “I won’t get in the way, I promise.”
“Sure, sweetheart. Pull up a chair and make yourself comfortable,” Bryn told him. “This is going to take a little while.”
“Not too long though, yes? You promised you’d go to the gala and let them give you that award,” Philippe said as he rolled the office chair around to the far side of the map, positioning himself so he was facing Bryn.
“Not too long, love, I promise. Ok, quick introductions and then we get started. Everyone, this is my Philippe. Philippe, you know Joey Adams, and that’s Alastair’s girlfriend, Luna Harper.” Lu felt a slight blush creep into her cheeks at that description as she smiled and waved in greeting. “Oh, and that,” Bryn flicked his hand dismissively toward Augustine, “That’s Augustine von Savinin.”
“You’re kidding,” said Philippe, staring at the platinum blonde vampire. “The Augustine? And you’re helping him find Alastair? Why?”
“I’m not helping him find Alastair, he’s helping me find him,” Bryn said lightly.
Philippe sat back and crossed his legs as he told Bryn, “Ok, amour. I’m sure you know what you are doing.” He still eyed Augustine suspiciously.
“Alright, let’s get started,” said the warlock. Before him all of a sudden were the printout and four identical bronze knives, each with elaborately scrolled handles. Now three of the knives slid across the floor, so that one was positioned in front of each of the people seated around the compass.
Bryn consulted the sheet of paper and started reading quietly. The language was unlike anything Lu had ever heard before. It was so utterly foreign that it took her a while to realize he was reading the same paragraph over and over again.
For a while it appeared nothing was happening. But then Lu saw that a faint circle of light had formed, connecting the four people seated on the floor. As Bryn continued in the same low monotone, the circle steadily increased in brightness. Bryn closed his eyes and began reciting the spell from memory. The circle got brighter still.
A few minutes later the chalk lines that formed the map lit up. Bryn’s voice sounded a little thinner, and a faint mist of perspiration appeared on his upper lip and forehead.
Everyone watched Bryn closely. Each passing minute seemed to diminish him in some small way, the warlock’s voice growing weaker, more perspiration dampening his features, his shoulders slumping slightly. Philippe’s face creased with concern, his eyes never leaving his boyfriend.
The chant abruptly changed to something else, other words in that same odd language, and light shot upward from the lines of the compass rose, outlining it in brilliant white. Lu and Joey squinted and held up their hands to shield their eyes.
“Do what I do,” Bryn said then, and picked up the little bronze knife before him. The others followed suit. He quickly ran the blade over his left palm and held the cut over the tip of the compass before him. Lu forced herself to do the same, making the cut quickly before she could think about it. Augustine and Joey did this too, a few drops of blood from each of them dripping onto the compass.
Bryn started chanting again in that same utterly foreign language. This time Alastair’s name was included in what he was saying. He squeezed his left hand into a tight fist, and more blood spilled onto the ground. The other three around the compass followed suit. The warlock wavered slightly and Philippe jumped to his feet, but didn’t take a step forward.
Bryn’s breathing was becoming a bit labored as he continued to repeat the incantation. Lu wondered if the spell was going as it should. Suddenly the four little puddles of blood lit up, glowing bright red, and they began to flow to the middle of the compass. It took a minute for them to reach the center, and when all four of them met, a powerful gust of wind appeared out of nowhere, then began to circle around them like a tornado, increasing in speed, grabbing all the papers in the room and whisking them along as the wind gained momentum, howling past them, right at their backs. They were safe in the calm eye of the storm and Philippe was untouched beyond it, their hair barely stirring as the wind raged around them. Suddenly, right in the center of the whirlwind, at the heart of the compass, a blinding white c
olumn of light shot up to the ceiling.
Bryn cried out in pain, bracing himself with both hands on the floor before him. His voice rose, the dead language ringing out over the storm that raged in the room. He squeezed his eyes shut as his olive complexion went pale and his nose started to bleed, dark red drops of blood soaking into the blue coveralls. Philippe pressed a fist to his mouth but didn’t try to cross into the tornado.
The warlock went on and on, struggling to keep the chant going as his body began to tremble and tears spilled from beneath his dark lashes. Lu watched in absolute amazement as a thin rivulet of blood shot out from the center of the compass rose. It stopped at southern California on the map they had drawn.
Then the column of light radiating up from the center of the compass flickered. Slowly a picture was coming into focus within that column, as if the lens of a camera were being turned. Suddenly the focus became crystal clear, and a three-dimensional image of a grand white mansion appeared before them.
Augustine drew in his breath. Then he yelled over the noise of the whirlwind, “You can stop now Bryn, we don’t need the address. I know exactly where that is.”
Bryn took a deep breath and opened his eyes, and instantly the wind and the light and the image were gone, all the papers that had been caught in the tornado gently drifting to the ground around them. Philippe ran to the warlock’s side, catching him in his arms as he wavered.
“So where is it?” Joey asked, jumping to his feet.
Augustine looked stunned as he replied, “It’s my home in L.A.”
Chapter Thirty
A low growl rumbled in Joey’s chest, and he yelled, “I knew it! You had him all along! What game are you playing, Augustine?”
But Augustine looked dumbfounded, staring at the spot where the image had been. He pushed his pale hair back with both interlaced hands. “It’s not me!” he cried. Then he shook his head in disbelief as he mumbled, “Why would they bring him there, of all places?”
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