“Is Alastair ok, Bryn? Is he alive?” Lu asked.
“He’s alive, but barely,” the warlock replied.
Lu hurried over to the desk for a water bottle and brought it to Bryn. Philippe was cradling him and gently brushing Bryn’s damp hair back from his face as he murmured soothingly, “You did great, amour. Absolutely magnificent.”
“How long did that take?” Bryn asked.
Philippe glanced at his watch and told him, “Just under ninety minutes.” Bryn looked immensely satisfied.
Lu knelt beside the couple and opened the bottle, then handed it to Bryn, who drank deeply and winked at her. “Thanks, love.”
“Are you alright?” she asked him.
“I’m fine,” Bryn told her, sitting up and unfastening the top button on his shirt. His voice was thin and he was still quite pale, his eyelids heavy. “This used to be easier when I was younger, I’ll tell you that. But I can still work a major spell in record time,” he said with a grin. Then he used the sleeve of the coveralls to wipe the blood from his upper lip.
“You’re incredible, darling,” Philippe told him. “You never ever cease to amaze me.” His handsome face was still creased with concern, but he was smiling proudly.
“Help me up,” Bryn said, “We need to get to L.A.”
“Not we,” Philippe said as both he and Lu helped Bryn to his feet. “Remember? You promised me you’d only do the spell, nothing more, because you and I both knew how much that would take from you. And it took even more than we anticipated, didn’t it? So forget the gala too, we’ll just call and tell them something came up. You need to go home and rest. Yet another award is far less important than your health.”
“But Joey and Lu need my help, who knows what they’ll be facing in L.A.?” Bryn was saying, weaving slightly as he unzipped the coveralls and stepped out of them. Lu held his arm firmly to keep him from falling over.
“If you’re determined to help, you can do so from here,” Philippe told him.
As the couple was having this discussion, Joey came up beside Lu. Without a word, he gently raised her left hand to his mouth and ran his tongue over the gash on her palm, healing the wound. He lightly kissed her palm before letting go of her hand and she turned to look at him questioningly, but his composed expression was perfectly neutral.
Bryn was saying, “You’re right of course, love. I won’t be of use to anyone if I pass out.” Then he asked, “Is the car out front?” His boyfriend nodded and Bryn said, “We’ll take them to the airport, then I promise to go home and rest.” He leaned heavily on Philippe as they headed to the car.
Everyone piled into the back of a black limousine that had been parked in front of the warehouse. Philippe told the driver to take them to the Executive Air terminal at SFO, and he gently propped Bryn up as the car pulled away from the curb.
Philippe located his cell phone and dialed a number in his directory before handing the ringing phone to Bryn. When a crisp voice answered, Bryn recited his name and a long account number, then gave instructions to the person at the other end of the line. He was assured a private plane would be ready and waiting.
Bryn closed his eyes. And when he opened them, for just a moment it seemed as if they registered every one of his three hundred and thirty years. Philippe handed him a bottle of water from the built-in mini bar, and Bryn grinned at him and said, “I could go for something a bit stronger, love.”
“You don’t need alcohol right now, you need to hydrate,” Philippe told him, his voice firm but kind.
Bryn accepted the water and took a long drink. Then he turned his attention to Lu and Joey and told them, “A charter jet is being prepared, it’ll be ready by the time we get to the airport. When you land at LAX, a car and driver will be waiting for you. Check the trunk, it’ll be stocked with a few helpful items. I’m sorry to say I need to stay behind, I won’t be of any use to you if I deplete myself further.”
“Ok. Thanks Bryn,” said Joey.
“Do you happen to have Alastair’s cell phone on you? The one I gave him?” Bryn asked.
“Yeah.” Joey pulled the red phone out of his pocket and looked at the little screen. “I’m surprised it doesn’t need a charge.” The battery indicator was completely full.
“It doesn’t run on electricity,” Bryn told him. “Listen, when you arrive at Augustine’s house, call me and leave me on speaker. I’ll be able to send some help your way from here if I know what’s going on, a little protection at least.”
“We’re so grateful for all you’ve done for us,” Joey told him.
Augustine was sitting back in his seat, arms crossed over his chest. At some point the look of shock on his face had been replaced with one of grim determination. Now he said to the warlock, “Can you get a read on who’s in my house?”
“I tried, but the wards are so powerful around the building they’re like a thick fog. There’s no way for me to look inside, beyond being able to tell that Alastair is there and that he’s alive. Whoever this is, they want you to come in blind.”
“So how are we going to get in, if it’s all warded?” Lu asked.
“You’re going to walk right in the front door,” Bryn said. “It was left open, more or less unprotected, though I can’t see beyond it. It seems that whoever this is wants Gus to come after them. And I’d be willing to bet you need him with you if you hope to enter through that door.”
“What could they possibly be planning?” Lu asked.
“If I had to guess,” Bryn told her, “I’d say they plan to kill Alastair before his eyes, and then kill Augustine.”
Lu shook her head. Then she asked Augustine, “Who would hate you that much?”
The corner of his mouth curved up just a little as he replied, in perfect unison with Bryn, “Everyone.”
Chapter Thirty-One
The plane was comfortable and luxurious, though this was hardly the time to revel in it. It took less than an hour and a half to fly from San Francisco to LAX, and a town car and driver were waiting at the terminal as promised. Joey pulled a large black case from the trunk and brought it into the back seat with them.
The car was now winding its way into the hills above Los Angeles. Augustine slumped in his seat, staring unseeingly out the window, while Lu fidgeted with nervous energy.
Joey meantime was uncharacteristically somber. He’d opened the bag and found an array of weapons, which he was now using to arm himself. He took off the suit jacket and retrieved the envelope from Bryn, then folded the envelope carefully and slipped it in his pants pocket. Then he rolled back the sleeves of the deep blue dress shirt and slung two black leather straps in an ‘X’ over his torso. Two swords crossed over his back, the hilt of each visible over his shoulders. Leather bands around his forearms held a stake and a smaller knife snugly against his wrists. Lu glanced at the driver to see if he was surreptitiously dialing 911 at the sight of all those weapons, but the elderly gentleman seemed totally unfazed.
Joey handed Lu a short, ornate silver dagger. Its finely detailed handle was made to look like two intertwining snakes, and it was inlaid with a deep blue stone near the end where the tails of the serpents came together. He told her, “Hide this in your jacket pocket. Make it look like you’re unarmed so you’re not much of a target. If you are attacked hopefully it’ll give you a bit of protection, since it’s bespelled.”
“How do you know it’s bespelled?”
I can tell by the way it hums,” Joey told her.
“Hums?”
“Yeah. Don’t you feel it? There’s a subtle vibration to the blade, as if energy is running through it.”
Lu sandwiched the blade between her palms but felt nothing. It made her wonder yet again how much magic routinely went unnoticed around her.
“Let’s hope you don’t need to find out what it does,” Joey said. “And maybe you won’t. Whoever we’re going up against might not bother to come after you, because they probably won’t see a human as a threat.”
> Joey glanced at Augustine then and said, “Despite my better judgment, I suppose we should give you some weapons as well.”
But Augustine shook his head and said quietly, “I’m not going in there fighting. I’m going in peacefully and offering myself in trade for Alastair. It probably won’t work, but I figure it’s worth a try.”
“We might have a better chance going in guns blazing,” Joey said. “In all the confusion, one of us might be able to grab Alastair and get him out of there.”
“No,” Augustine said, meeting Joey’s eyes. “That might get Alastair killed. We don’t even know who or what we’re facing, and we could all be dead in seconds if we run in looking for a fight. Let’s just go in calmly and see if they’ll take me in trade. Though by all means, keep arming yourself for when my plan fails.”
The town car pulled to the curb then, two blocks from Augustine’s former home, just in case that somehow afforded them the element of surprise. The trio exited the car and Joey dialed the little red cell phone. When the warlock’s voice came over the speaker Joey told him, “Ok Bryn, we’re going in.”
“Good luck, mate. May you fight with the strength of angels,” Bryn said. Joey left the phone on and slid it into his shirt pocket, and they started walking.
Within minutes they were climbing the steps to an enormous mansion. It was strikingly out of place in the hills above Los Angeles, looking like it belonged in the French countryside in a different century. Marie Antoinette would have felt right at home here.
Just as Bryn had said, the giant double front doors were literally wide open. They stepped into the blindingly white foyer, where a huge crystal chandelier radiated light overhead. The entryway would have been totally devoid of color, were it not for a large swath of blood across the white marble threshold.
Joey and Lu glanced at each other and she mouthed the question, “Alastair’s?” Joey gave a single nod.
They followed a thin trail of blood down a long hallway, Augustine a few steps ahead of them, and cut through a huge room with panoramic views of the lights of Los Angeles far below. The whole house was still, no signs of life anywhere.
The blood trail ended, but Lu could see Joey sniffing the air. He followed Augustine down a long hallway, and from there they took a back staircase up three stories.
They emerged onto a huge rooftop garden, lit by a series of decorative light posts around the perimeter. Elaborate topiaries cast long, odd shadows. And all of Los Angeles sparkled in the distance, but no one bothered to admire the view.
Augustine went straight to the center of the space, stopping abruptly at a large stone fountain. It was hexagonal and maybe twelve feet in diameter, with a tall, ornate pillar rising from the center of it. In the dim light the water appeared black.
Joey looked stricken. “What is it?” Lu asked him. “What’s wrong?”
He struggled to keep his voice steady. “The water in the fountain is mixed with a lot of Alastair’s blood. Maybe all of it, enough to drain him.”
“No, not all of it.” A beautiful woman emerged from a corner of the garden, pausing a few yards from them and casually adjusting the cuff of her black turtleneck sweater. She looked like she was around twenty, thick black hair falling in waves to her waist, dark jeans tucked into high-heeled black boots.
Lu thought there was something vaguely familiar about her, though she knew she’d never seen this person before. The woman moved with feline grace as she took a few steps closer to them. “We couldn’t resist playing with some of his blood,” she was saying, “trying it out in some lovely spells. Jin was appalled that I was willing to waste so much of it in setting a trap for Augustine. And I suppose he’s right, it was wasteful.” She grinned as if she was pleased with herself. “After all, it’s amazing stuff. It practically glows with magic. Everything about my brother is just so damn special, isn’t it?”
“Her brother? Is that Margaret?” Lu whispered, and Joey nodded. So that was why she seemed familiar, because there was a slight family resemblance. But there was a coldness about her, a hardness to her beauty that was very unlike Alastair.
“Where’s Alastair, Meg?” Joey asked. His voice was level, contained, though tension percolated below the surface.
“Now that’s funny,” the woman said, casually resting her hands on her hips as she regarded Augustine. “This is who you found to help you, Augie, someone that utterly despises you? I can’t believe Joey hasn’t staked you yet and deprived me of the pleasure.”
Meg shifted her gaze to Joey then and said, “I really don’t have a quarrel with you, sweetie. If you leave now, no harm will come to you.” She didn’t even glance at Lu, as if she was too insignificant to merit a moment of her time.
“I’m not leaving here without Alastair,” Joey said. “So where is he? I can’t sense him, is he unconscious?”
“Why no,” said Meg. “He’s wide awake and quite close by, actually.”
“Then why can’t I get a read on him?” Joey wanted to know.
“I severed your maker bond with my brother to ensure you wouldn’t find him. Do you see what that means? You’re your own man now, Joey. You aren’t tethered to that freak anymore! Isn’t that good news?” Meg again looked pleased with herself.
“There’s no way you could have severed our bond,” Joey said. “Augustine tried to do that too, and failed.”
Meg sighed. “Augustine thinks he knows everything, he always tries to control how things get done. All I had to do was give Jin a little free reign and he figured out how to break the bond on his own. It took him a matter of minutes.”
“So Jin’s working for you now. Where is he?” Joey asked.
“He was supposed to be here for this,” Meg frowned. “But he went off to pursue some personal projects. Doesn’t matter, though. I don’t really need him for what I’m going to do.”
“How did you get him to leave Augustine and come to work for you?” Joey was stalling for time, stealing glances around the rooftop garden, assessing the situation. He noticed Augustine was still completely motionless beside the fountain.
“I interrupted Augustine’s cash flow and waved a fat paycheck at Jin. He gladly came to work for me. As did the rest of the drones Augustine employed.”
“And where’s Augustine’s vampire army now?”
“I had no use for them,” Meg said. “So after I lured them away from my maker they all met with an unfortunate accident. Have you ever seen forty vampires burning to death at the same time? It’s truly a magnificent sight to behold.” She laughed giddily. Then she added, “Oh, and the werewolves, ugh! Disgusting creatures. I don’t know how my maker could stand to be around them. Slaughtering them was a public service, if you ask me.”
Meg strolled up to Augustine then and cocked her head to the side, closely studying her maker, who remained completely frozen. “And it was so easy to convince them to come work for me. No one had any loyalty to this monster, not one of the dozens of people he surrounded himself with. As soon as they got a better offer elsewhere, everyone gladly ran off and left him all alone.” Meg reached out and tucked a strand of Augustine’s pale blonde hair behind his ear as she said, “There was only one person that was ever stupid enough to care about Augustine, to actually want to stay with him. But that person got treated like dirt and kicked aside the moment they ceased to amuse him.”
“And that would be you,” Joey guessed.
“You know what’s truly annoying?” Meg said. “The first thing I did when I got hold of Jin was sever my own maker-progeny bond with this son of a bitch. And it didn’t help at all. I still love him. How’s that for annoying?”
“What did you do to him? Why can’t he move?” Joey asked.
“I knew he’d be irresistibly drawn to Alastair’s blood, so I had Jin put a little spell around the fountain. A simple snare, and Augie stepped right into it. Too easy.”
Joey rested a hand casually on the back of a nearby lounge chair, trying to look relaxed as he asked, “
So now that you have Augustine, what are you going to do with him?”
“I’m going to kill him,” Meg said matter-of-factly. “Apparently that’s the only way I’ll ever be free of him, since severing our bond was useless. But not before I make him suffer in the most agonizing way possible.” Meg looked deep into Augustine’s eyes, her face only inches from his, and then reached out with one finger and pressed it to Augustine’s jaw, turning her maker’s head toward the fountain. The air around the pillar at the fountain’s center seemed to shift somehow, just the slightest flicker. A tear ran down Augustine’s cheek.
“Interesting way of loving someone,” Joey muttered.
Meg’s voice rose slightly as she took a step back from Augustine and said, “I don’t want to love him. He’s not worthy of my love! All he deserves is pain and intense suffering, followed by a gruesome death.”
“And I have no problem with that,” Joey said. “So just give me Alastair and we’ll be out of your way. Then you can get on with making Augustine suffer.”
Meg looked at Joey and sighed. “Really? Severing your bond with your maker didn’t release you? You’re still trying to save him?”
“Bond or no bond, I love Alastair -- I would say like a brother, but at the moment a sibling analogy really doesn’t seem like the way to go,” Joey said. “And I’m not leaving here without him.”
“I don’t want to kill you, sweetie,” Meg told him. “But of course I will if you insist on getting in my way.”
“You don’t need to kill me,” Joey said. “You can just let Alastair go and you’ll never have to see either of us ever again.”
“I think you know what I intend to do to my bastard brother. And I’m guessing you probably don’t want to stay and watch as I slowly tear him apart while Augustine watches helplessly. So I’m going to give you one last chance. Leave now and take that human child with you,” she said, acknowledging Lu for the first time.
Magic & Memory Page 21