eldritch files 07 - elemental blood

by weldon, phaedra

  "Yeah," I said and looked at Crwys. He looked at me. We hadn't had a moment together since I got back, so there hadn't been a lot of time to talk. And I really wanted to talk to him. I needed to talk to him. I tore my gaze away from him and looked at Tas. "But even a false positive doesn't work. Which means someone or something has been creating evidence to indicate a Quest was launched."

  "Why would anyone do that?" Ivan piped up. "I've been scanning the web all afternoon and can't find anything remotely related to the Risi and a Quest for a king."

  "That's because we've never had one." Brahms leaned against the wall on the opposite side. "Windsong has been the King ever since the revolt. The Quest is set up to fail."

  "Because of the Dragon part," Kyle said.

  I glared at him. No need bringing that up again, dude!

  "Then what's going on?" Dharma said. "We've got Elves—sorry, Brahms, but you look like a horned Elf, and that whole contingent yesterday looked like Lord of the Rings meets Narnia."

  I snickered. I could see that. "I wish we had a clearer picture."

  "Has anyone tried hacking at the wall?" Arden said as she approached it and put her fingers on it.

  "How exactly did you make a basement out of nothing?" Kyle asked. I'd been expecting that question.

  So I held out my hands. "One of the first spells Ina—I mean Dionysus—taught me, was how to create nil space. It's like a pocket of reality that's here, but you can't touch it or see it unless there's an opening. You can make a password to open it, or you can build a permanent door. I opted for a door once I was done creating it…not long after I moved in here. Look, after a year of being in business, I realized I needed safe storage for some of the weird things customers brought in here. And this nil space is just that."

  I addressed Arden's question. "I’m pretty sure if you hacked at the wall, you wouldn’t see the damage," Looking at everyone looking at me, I held up my free hand. "It’s visible because it’s been told to be, but if he’s manipulated the space, you might be hacking at something other than a wall, but it looks like a wall to you.” I glanced at their confused faces. “I really don't know how to explain that any clearer.”

  "I got it. Meaning we could be hacking at thin air behind it where the staircase is, but we'd think we were still hitting a wall," Arden said, turning to face me. "I know the spell you used to create it, and if you put enough energy into it, the place becomes permanent."

  "Yes. Mine did. To a point where I couldn't move it." I shrugged. "So there's a basement, but it's really not there. And if Satar is hiding, the wall is temporary, but it’s visually permanent.” I looked at everyone else. “It’s like putting a hologram out in front of something. You can see the hologram and it never changes, but you can’t see what’s behind it."

  Kyle looked at me with a cocked brow. "Yeah I think we get that. But, if I’m understanding what you’re saying, the basement doesn’t exist in our world. So, where is it?"

  "It's in my realm." Brahms snapped his fingers. "That's it. That's how Satar was able to close it." He smiled at me. "You used your magic to weave the two realities together."

  Arden looked from Brahms to me, then back again. "You're saying she built a Cairn."

  Brahms and I looked at each other with wide eyes. "I did?"

  "No." He shook his head. "A Cairn is a Faerie portal. You built a footpath."

  "A what?"

  "It's what we call the means into your world. The Greater Kingdom is riddled with them. But there aren't that many here. I’m guessing, though, this path is actually closed space, which is why he’s still there. No opening on the other side." He smiled at me, and his expression was unreadable. "I'm impressed, Samantha."

  "I'm not," I said. "I'm confused, and I don't like being confused." I pointed to the wall. "I want that down, but nothing I do moves it. It's not my magic, and it appears to be made of the same stuff I made the basement with. There's a false Quest out there, and innocent people are dying. There's a murderer still at large, and I can't find her…" I didn't realize my eyes were tearing up until I wiped at them. Just that fact alone made me stop talking when I looked down at the tear on my index finger.

  It occurred to me at that moment, as things around me spun in a cacophony of crazy, that I hadn't cried once since I left New Orleans. Not even in the quiet alone moments Bastien gave me when we were on the road or in a hotel. I'd cried that night in the rain in his arms in the Cairn at Gypsy Gardens…but since then I hadn't actually let anything out.

  Or anything…in.

  Arden clapped her hands. "Okay…let's go. Sam's back. Bastien’s back with the Aces. Let's clear out."

  "Clear out where?" Ivan asked, and I caught Dharma giving him a warning look as she pulled him to follow her.

  Everyone left. Except Crwys.

  He stood to my left as I faced that wall, my hand out in front of me as the tear I'd wiped away finally fell from my finger. I watched it leave a small dark circle on the hardwood beneath it. A second one appeared, and then a third, until there were too many to count. It was raining inside.

  Inside of me.

  I didn't remember him moving, just that he was around me, and his wings completed the circle. I couldn't remember ever feeling more loved, more at peace, and more safe than in his arms. And I knew on some level that Mom knew this. She knew I would be safe with Crwys. She approved of him, if no one else.

  And I'd nearly thrown that all away when I listened to the Hawthorne blood in my veins. The human side that didn't take shit from anyone. The side that fought her own battles. The side that never let anyone in.

  The side that…

  Well…just needed to step to the back.

  Most of the remainder of the day was a blur to me. I was in my own bed, Crwys was there. I wanted to make love, but he refused. Instead, he lay beside me, a naked Adonis…no, a winged, naked Apollo. He was made of legend, and he was mine.

  I woke and it was dark outside. I could feel a cool breeze coming through the window, caressing my face and moving my wild hair. That meant the rest of the upstairs apartment was open as well, built to catch the cross breeze. I was wearing one of Crwys's larger shirts and nothing else except bruised sorrow. I felt it weigh heavy on my shoulders. A pressure I didn't think would ever go away. As I walked into the kitchen, I almost called out for Grey and then stopped myself with my hand on the fridge…and it all started again.

  I was alone. No mother. No father. No one.

  You have me, Crwys's voice came to me in my head. I am here. And I am eternal. Nothing will tear me from you. Ever.

  He knelt on the kitchen floor with me, again, with his arms around me. His wings were gone, but his arms were just as strong. We rocked back and forth as I cried for my mother, for my familiar, for the comfort I wanted so, so badly from her.

  I heard the church bell chime in the distance. It was midnight. I sat back. My eyes were swollen, so was my face. Crwys moved my hair and gently kissed my nose, then my lips, my cheeks, and my eyes.

  "Please don't ever leave me again," he whispered. "The sorrow you feel now is only a fraction of the heartbreak I suffer when you're not with me."

  "Don't…"

  "You have to know. I love you, Samantha. I'm bonded to you. We mate for life, and you are my life." His brows pulled together over his nose, and I moved his shock of hair. "I just have to know…"

  "You can see into me, Azazel." I smiled at him with swollen lips. "Can't you see Bastien was a perfect gentleman? You fight him when there's no need. He knows I'm yours. But he is a dear friend. He only went with me to make sure I didn't get myself killed."

  "He said that?"

  "Nah. I knew it. Bastien's got a good head on his shoulders. He's been at the revenge game before and preached its uselessness over and over." I snorted and then coughed. "Broken-ass record."

  Crwys chuckled. "Then I owe him an apology."

  "For?"

  "For nearly killing him that night. Out back." He looked down. "I r
egret what I did. And I vowed never to do that again. Not to Bastien. He didn't deserve that."

  "Well, I'm glad to hear that, and I want to be there when you tell him."

  "Why?" He grinned. "You want to see me squirm in my embarrassment?"

  "No. I want to see Bastien's jaw hit the ground."

  We both laughed and kissed. And then I wanted ice cream.

  After standing, he pointed to the counter. "Get two spoons."

  "Okay." I did and turned around to see him remove six different pints of ice cream from the freezer. Butter pecan, chocolate chip, cookie dough, rocky road, vanilla, and chocolate.

  All of my favorites!

  Then he held up a finger and retrieved a clear pint container. When I looked at the top, I yelled out, "You got cinnamon ice cream!"

  "From Atlanta. I say we empty this container first. I also bought you that girl movie you like, in case you want to watch it."

  "Yes! Wait, which one? Love Actually?"

  "No."

  "Serendipity?"

  "No…but I did get that one too."

  "So which…" Then I grinned up at him. "You got He's Just Not That Into You!"

  He held out his arms as if to signal, Am I not the best?

  And he was.

  For a few hours, we sat on the couch under a blanket, the windows open as if we didn't have a care in the world, ate cinnamon ice cream, and watched as seemingly non-related couples came together.

  It was heaven.

  Just before hell broke loose.

  TWELVE

  A familiar tune woke Crwys. He opened his eyes, blinking back sleep as he focused on the beautiful brunette cuddled against him. He grabbed his phone on the nightstand and silenced the call before it woke Sam. The fact it didn't was a testament to her exhaustion, even more so when he put the phone to his ear and rose carefully from the bed.

  "Holliard."

  "It's Levi," his partner said. "Max's got something for us."

  Crwys walked into the living area and winced when he realized he'd left the TV on. He grabbed the remote off the couch and hit the red button. "The assistant M.E.'s got something on what? The single bodies or the mass?" He checked the clock on the oven. "Damn…it's two in the morning."

  "I know." Levi's voice was soft, with just a hint of Ashur's deeper tone. "We've been working. How's Sam?"

  He knew Levi's comment wasn't meant as a jab. As a Vampire, Levi often preferred to do a lot of their footwork at night. The darkness gave him strength and power the sun took away, and it also allowed him the opportunity to feed. Levi was just stating a fact. "I'm not sure. She let it go yesterday. And all last night. I just—" He looked back at the bedroom. "I just don't know if she let it all go."

  "She won't. She lost her mother, Crwys. I know it's been a long time for both of us—the loss of our parents—but I do remember pain."

  "So do I." And it was the truth. Like Vampires, or Revenants, Dragons remembered everything. Sometimes the memories didn't come to the surface when bidden, but given time, they swelled to the top like a bubble of air struggling to reach the top of the ocean. And when they did… Crwys shivered as his skin prickled with goose bumps. The balcony door was open. Had he forgotten to close it? "I'll meet you there."

  Crwys hung up, set the phone on the coffee table, and closed the balcony door before he went back to the bedroom.

  She lay on her left side, facing him, half curled into a ball with her head bowed. Her soft, full lips were parted in slumber. He smoothed her hair back before he lovingly traced the dip of her shoulder. She was perfect, in every way. And he loved her unconditionally. Crwys sensed a sad weight pressing down on her as she carried the responsibility of so many things.

  He already knew, just by being with her, that she and Bastien had been no more than friends during their trip. If there was one thing he respected about the pack Alpha, it was his sense of chivalry. Crwys just wished the bastard would bond with someone besides his fiancée.

  Fiancée.

  He touched the ring he wore around his neck, then unfastened the chain. His feelings for Sam hadn't changed. And he'd hidden them well during her absence. Though, if the walls of Ina’s home could talk, they would tell a tale of a grieving beast, he was sure. Sam had to make the decision if she still wanted to marry him. He knew her disappearance had nothing to do with him, or their love for one another, but it was Sam's inherent need to serve justice. And Elizabeth Hawthorne would have justice. Lethe would die.

  Crwys would see to that.

  After setting the ring and chain on the nightstand, he took a quick shower, pressed a kiss to Sam's cheek, and left her a note beside the ring.

  He didn't expect to see Tas standing by his Mustang behind the shop. "What're you doing here?"

  She was dressed in jeans, boots, and a dark blue hoodie. Her skin glowed an odd gold under the moonlight. "I'm your partner too, remember? Levi called."

  "And you decided to show up at my car?" He unlocked the Mustang, and the two of them got in.

  Tas buckled in. "I wanted to know how Sam was doing."

  "Rough." He started the car. "But she's strong. Resilient. Hell, I've seen her get through things that I might have run from."

  "She's an amazing Witch."

  He glanced at Tas. "And woman as well." He pulled onto Bourbon Street and headed to the coroner's office. "So…since we know Sam's a Witch, care to finally confess to your own part in all this?"

  "My part?"

  "What you are?"

  She laughed. "What I am?"

  "Yeah, because I don't know that many humans that know about Witches and Revenants, or even Wolves, the way you do. You’ve heard us talking, seen Levi's Demon on occasion, watched a whole group of bikers turn into Wolves, and you never bat an eye. Witch? Sorceress?"

  "Detective Holliard"—she turned an amused expression to him—"you, of all creatures, should know there are knowledgeable humans in this world. They don't have to be magic or supernatural."

  "You're right. But it helps. Being different."

  "I'm different. I just don't care to be that open about it."

  He gave her a sharp glance. "Okay. I'll leave it at that." He was serious with himself. It was a lie. As a detective, he’d already started digging into her background, and if she wouldn’t confide in him, he’d learn it on his own.

  Speaking of the strange and unusual, Max Canon greeted them at the door and unlocked it. "Detective Tulose is already here." He walked them to the examination room.

  Crwys got a creepy feeling as he walked in and took note of all the half-stone bodies. He didn't see the mass sculpture from the park and hoped it was still there. The thought of them taking it apart—literally dismembering twenty bodies—did not sit well with him. He nodded to Levi, who looked well rested and well fed. "So, what's up?"

  Max stood in front of an examination table covered with an off-white sheet. "I have good news and bad news."

  "Bad news first."

  "The CDC has come and gone, and they confidently assured us there is no pathogen. No airborne disease or bacteria that caused the partial transformations of these people."

  Levi sniffed. "How is that bad news? That means it can't be spread by contact."

  "Yes, but it also makes trying to find out how and why this happened even harder."

  Crwys spoke up, "So you still don't know."

  Max held up a finger. "Not necessarily." He turned to a large flat screen suspended from a ceiling mount and picked up a remote. The screen came to life with shots of the transformed bodies. "I found anomalies in all of the victims, including the tragedy in the park. There is something in their blood that shouldn't be there."

  "I thought the CDC didn't find anything," Tas said.

  "The CDC has a specific regimented guideline to go by. I don't." He smiled. "I know when to look for things beyond the human spectrum and into the ‘Oh Jesus’ compartment after having worked with you three," He pointed at Crwys and Levi, “You two in particular.�
� Max pointed at the screen and the images became something weird and scientific. Not anything that made sense to Crwys. "Have any of you touched the stone?"

  The three detectives looked at one another. "No," Tas said.

  Max pulled back the sheet to reveal a collection of body-part-shaped stones. A few of the pieces, obvious feet and legs, were truncated where they'd been connected to living tissue. The difference in the whitish stone and the red muscle was like a roadside tragedy. Crwys couldn't stop staring at it.

  Max used his gloved finger to point to the lower part of a woman's leg. It ended above the knee. "If you'll notice, this place where I removed it from the body? I didn't use any instruments, I just pulled on it and it came off." He pressed down on the stone flesh just behind the more fresh-and-bloody muscle and bone. "The stone here is hard and heavy. Go ahead, pick it up."

  No one moved at first, then Levi stepped forward, slipped on a pair of gloves, and picked up the leg. "It's heavy," Levi said and put it back down.

  "Yes. Because it's still connected to living tissue. I sliced off a cross section of this area here, where the stone and flesh are connected, and took a closer look at it."

  "And?" Crwys prompted.

  "Whatever this stuff is I found in the blood, it's still working on that flesh." He pointed to the muscle. "At the rate of consumption, I calculate it'll turn the rest of this flesh into stone in under a day."

  Crwys stepped forward. "You mean…it's still changing it?"

  "Yeah. Beyond death. It's transmuting the necrotic tissue into stone. And"—he pointed to a fully turned hand to the right—"pick that one up."

  This time Crwys did, without a glove, and nearly tossed the hand in the air. He'd expected it to be heavy, to have some weight to it like stone or concrete did. But this… He examined it closer under the overhead examination light. When he pressed on it, his finger poked through. The action startled him, Tas, and Levi. Tas made a small noise as Max rescued the now dented hand from Crwys. "What the hell?"