Elysian Fields sono-3

by Suzanne Johnson

  “I told her how Rand tricked you into helping him,” Alex said. “But Eugenie, you need to go home. We’re trying to set up the arsonist.”

  Good cover story. “We think he’ll come back if I’m here. We’re trying to trap him.” I hugged her and whispered, “Thank you. I’m glad you were here with me when I saw this.”

  “Me too.” She looked tired, and I realized with shame I’d been so angry and hurt myself I hadn’t thought about how hard this mess with Rand had hit her. She’d fallen heart-first for a man who didn’t exist, at least not in the way she thought.

  “Come on, let me walk you home.” Alex’s gaze met mine over Eugenie’s head, and I nodded. We needed her safely gone.

  Before they reached the door to the kitchen, a crash of splintering wood and breaking glass sounded ahead of them. Eugenie was already screaming by the time the Axeman came within my line of vision, swinging his weapon of choice in his meaty right hand. If possible, he looked even more gross than the last time I’d seen him. More burned skin. Fever-bright eyes.

  Alex shoved Eugenie toward me. “Get her out of here!”

  She’d gone from scared to hysterical, screaming nonsense syllables and pushing me away. “He’s not even human, DJ. Look at him! Why doesn’t somebody shoot him?”

  The Axeman had stopped to look at her. “I’m not human, and as soon as I kill her, I will kill you.” With every word, he took a step closer, and Eugenie’s breath came in such short, rapid gasps I feared she’d hyperventilate.

  I prayed for forgiveness and slapped her—hard. It worked, at least for the moment, and she looked at me with big eyes and a pink handprint on her cheek. “Is that him? The Axeman?”

  “Yes, now go!” I herded her toward the front door. She whimpered, her eyes darting from me to the axe-wielding horror-show now charging at Alex.

  “Front door,” I said, shoving her in that direction. “Go home. Lock your doors. We’ll explain later. GO!”

  I turned back as the Axeman propelled Alex hard against the fireplace, the mantel cutting him across his upper back and knocking the wind out of him. He slid to a seated position on the slate hearth, wheezing, leaving the Axeman free to lumber toward me with a feral growl and a raised ax.

  Fumbling in my pocket, I finally got my fingers on the immobilization charm, thumbed the top off the vial, and flung the contents at him.

  Time and movement seemed to slow as Eugenie charged in front of me at the same time the dustlike particles of the charm flew forward. They hit her in the face, and she keeled over with a thud. Where had she come from? She must have circled the room to try again to reach the back door.

  The Axeman laughed, spittle running down a chin and lips that were still blackened from our last encounter, with skin hanging in shreds from raw muscle and meat. “You missed, wizard. My turn.”

  Great, not only was he a charred undead killer, he was a comedian.

  He started toward me again, but former fullback Alex hit him with a kidney shot from behind. They hit the ground, grappling, punching. The Axeman had dropped his weapon, and I kicked the ax away from them. It hit the fireplace and sent up a cloud of dust.

  Ken ran in from the guest room with his gun drawn, but he seemed unsure what to do.

  “If you can wound the Axeman without hitting Alex, shoot him!” I shouted. “Don’t kill him, though.” I needed him alive, in an undead sort of way, to run the elven ritual.

  I pulled the staff from its holster and from my pocket tugged out the paper with the ritual words Rand had told me. I’d written them phonetically and began chanting: “Gan fod-e meister”— Alex howled, and I faltered, looking up and screaming as the Axeman buried a huge knife in the front of his shoulder, exposing muscle and bone. Alex fell to his knees.

  Feeling underneath the big sweatshirt, I found the grenade and unclipped it from my belt loop. I needn’t have bothered; the explosion of Ken’s gun was deafening.

  The Axeman didn’t fall, but he stopped and shouted a bunch of gibberish at Ken, something about demons and hell and heavenly realms. I bent over my cheat-sheet, holding out the staff, trying to block out the noise, and hoping Ken could handle it. “Gan fod-e meister Mahout,” I whispered, the words coming out fast and jumbled. “Rowyn-e gal wary pwer o dan I daflu goleuni ar y ffordd ohut.” As the master of Mahout, I call upon the power of fire to illuminate the way of magic, Rand said it meant, although I’d have to take his word for it.

  I pointed the staff at the Axeman, currently trying to shake off an enormous golden dog whose teeth were buried in his thigh. Alex had shifted, and his alter ego Gandalf ’s shoulder was raw and bloody. Gandalf whimpered as the Axeman shoved him away with a powerful kick of a huge, booted foot into his midsection.

  I focused all my native physical energy into the staff, then released it, praying the taped-together staff worked, the ritual chant did its thing, and the Axeman didn’t burst into flames and go back into the Beyond. If that happened, this would all have been for nothing.

  Instead of the red ropes of flame I’d come to expect from the staff, a violet glow spread from me to the Axeman. His gaze met mine, and I saw it all in my head—and he didn’t want me there.

  “I’ll kill you, wizard!” I was barely aware of Ken trying to slow him down with what looked like a banister off my half-burned staircase while the killer advanced on me. I closed my eyes, focusing on the line of magic, mentally tracing the violet band like a piece of yarn as it stretched out of my house and away, east on Magazine Street. I mentally sped along it, following it through twists and turns until it ended at a spot I recognized. Just a little farther . . .

  “DJ, down!” Ken shouted, and I shot my eyes open just as the Axeman wrapped me in a bearhug and took me to the ground. I squirmed underneath him as he pinned my hands and bared blackened, sharp teeth.

  I gagged on the stench, and screamed when a gunshot exploded near my right ear and the Axeman’s shoulder burst like a ripe melon, raining meat and hot blood over me. He went limp on top of me but didn’t begin fading, so he still lived.

  “Goddamn son of a bitch.” Ken pulled the Axeman off me and slapped a pair of silver handcuffs on him. He disappeared into the guest room and came back with a pair of shackles, which he used to fasten the Axeman’s ankles together. Old Axel wouldn’t be chasing me down again anytime soon. I hoped.

  I rolled to my hands and knees, panting. “I think he’s still alive. Good job.”

  “Was that fucking thing ever alive?” Ken was breathing hard after dragging Axel in front of the fireplace. The killer was regaining consciousness, and bellowed when he realized he’d been shackled.

  I approached him cautiously, wiped blood off my elven cheat-sheet, pointed the staff at him, and repeated the charm. This time, I was able to close my eyes and focus harder. I followed the purple trail of magic all the way to the door of L’Amour Sauvage and into the back office.

  Etienne Boulard was not at his desk, but Adrian Hoffman was.

  CHAPTER 38

  I didn’t have proof that Etienne Boulard was the necromancer since I didn’t actually see him, but the circumstantial evidence was damning. And freaking Adrian Hoffman had sold me out.

  Alex had shifted back, pulled on his clothes, and curled on his side, breathing hard. He stared at me a moment, then choked out a laugh. “You look like Sissy Spacek in Carrie.”

  Good thing red was my color. And my only clothes were ruined. What a cluster. Except I knew exactly where to go, and I needed to get there fast.

  “Yeah, well, you look like last week’s hamburger. You gonna be okay? I need to check on Eugenie.”

  “Yeah, I’ll heal.”

  My friend still lay in the doorway, her eyes wide and shocky. I knelt next to her, and her focus shifted to me. It didn’t seem to calm her any. I stroked her hair. “I’m so, so sorry.” Again. I couldn’t seem to do anything right by her.

  I shifted around to look at Alex. He’d managed to sit up, but his shoulder was going to take a while t
o heal. “Ken, can you take Eugenie home? You’ll have to carry her. The charm should wear off in about another hour.”

  He nodded. “She’s gonna have questions. What should I tell her?”

  I pulled a chunk of flesh out of my hair and turned my back so I could dry heave in semi-privacy. I might have to go vegan.

  Eugenie had closed her eyes, her skin like porcelain in the lamplight. She looked frail. “Tell her the truth.” I raised a blood-encrusted eyebrow at Alex, and he nodded. “Tell her everything.”

  ***

  Amazing what a person can do in fifteen minutes with the right incentive. And I had a lot of incentive. I charged to the head of the line at L’Amour Sauvage and didn’t wait for the bouncer to wave me through. I wanted to see Etienne and Adrian, and to find out what happened to Jean Lafitte.

  Alex was on my heels. He hadn’t finished healing his own shoulder wound yet, but we needed everybody. Ken was babysitting Eugenie. As soon as he could calm her down and make sure she wasn’t in shock, he’d be meeting us here. I’d even called Rene, but he was out hunting in the wilds of north Louisiana with his brothers Claude and Cheney and couldn’t get back before midnight, though he’d been willing to try. I hoped everything would be over by then.

  I’d taken a fast shower at Alex’s and thrown on one of his Ole Miss sweatshirts. It came almost to my knees but it covered up the grenade. My jeans, with their modified staff holster, were bloodstained. I had to wear them anyway. Pantless necromancerchasing? Not a good idea.

  At the end of the bar, I stopped at the sight of Adrian sitting alone in a booth, his vampire significant other noticeably absent. He had his head propped on his hands as if he had the mother of all headaches, so he didn’t react when I slid in the booth facing him. I raised my voice to be heard over the din. “Where’s your feeder?”

  He looked up at me slowly and blinked, his eyes bloodshot, face haggard, expression confused. It was a startling difference from the last time I’d seen him here with Terri, arrogant and making plans to resume our lessons in elven magic. “Etienne sent her on an . . . errand.”

  His eyes darted around the bar, finally settling back on me and Alex. “I thought your house burned down and you disappeared. You were safe. Why the hell did you come back?”

  Gee, and he sounded so happy to see me. “You must not have gotten my message. I managed to track the Axeman’s necromancer back to L’Amour Sauvage using some of my useless elven magic. And guess who the trail led me to?”

  Adrian sat up straighter and assumed his normal—i.e., condescending—demeanor. He still looked like a cat that had been dragged through a washing-maching wringer, but it was an arrogant cat. “It might have led you to this bar, but it didn’t lead you to me. Etienne is in the back office with your friend Lafitte. The Regent was behind everything.”

  “I’m not sure what part you played yet, but you played one.” I left the booth and started toward the back hallway.

  Behind me, I heard Alex ordering Adrian to stand up. “You’re going with us.”

  I hung a left at the hall and stopped outside Etienne’s office, resting my ear against the door to try and hear if anything was going on inside. The noise from the bar was too distracting, though, and the door was heavy. Wrapping my fingers around the doorknob, I took a deep breath, said a quick prayer, and turned it, making sure Alex was behind me.

  I eased the door open, but I needn’t have bothered. I even looked behind the door and in the adjoining bathroom, into which Etienne, having no need of such facilities, had installed a roomy recliner and video setup. I did not want to know what went on in there.

  “I thought you said they were here.” I turned to look at Adrian. “Or are you and your fangy girlfriend covering for her boss?”

  “Don’t be absurd.” Adrian looked in the bathroom as if I might have missed a large French pirate and his vampire crony hiding inside, then prowled behind Etienne’s desk. “There’s a transport here—they obviously left.”

  I circled the desk and stared at the floor. Damn it, he was right. An interlocking circle and triangle had been chalked onto the hardwood. I knelt and touched a finger to the chalk and a tingle of magic shot up my arm. “It’s fresh.” I looked up at Adrian. “But a wizard had to power it. Where did you send them?”

  A deafening pop and a choked sound brought me to my feet. Alex lay on the floor, curled in a fetal position. Adrian backed himself into a corner. And the man who stood over Alex with a gun was redhaired and smiling. Jonas Adamson, our friendly new age necromancer.

  Damn it all to hell and back. “You? Why?” Why would a registered necromancer risk getting messed up in this? “What happened to Green Congress solidarity and all that crap?”

  Jonas Adamson shrugged. “Money, why else? Power. But mostly money.”

  Adrian reached behind a chair and pulled out a length of rope. Good, he could slip up behind Jonas and choke him.

  Instead, he knelt beside Alex and began tying his hands behind his back. Holy shit. They were both in on it? “Adrian, what the hell are you doing?” He worked for the Elders. His father was the freaking First Elder.

  “I had no choice,” Adrian said, kneeling and binding Alex’s hands and feet. He dragged Alex into Etienne’s private screening room and closed the door. Alex wasn’t conscious yet, but the bullet had hit his thigh and he’d cracked his head on a chair when he fell. I didn’t see enough blood to think it had nicked an artery. I thought he’d be okay. I, however, was in the room with two lunatic wizards.

  I moved away from the transport, easing toward the office door, but Jonas’s gun barrel tracked my movements without wavering. Adrian looked nervous, but the necromancer was cool and steady.

  I focused on Adrian. “It’s not too late to get yourself out of this. Whatever they’re offering you, it can’t be worth it.”

  He looked at the floor, and for once his voice didn’t hold an ounce of arrogance. He was scared. “This wasn’t about money. One of the elves, Lily, found out my father was First Elder. She threatened to expose my involvement with Terri. It would jeopardize his position and I’d never . . .” Adrian broadcast a swirling mix of fear and shame. “I was just supposed to let them know where you were, nothing more.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “It got out of control.”

  No kidding.

  So it had been Lily all along. Rand’s theory that she might be making a play to gain control of the Synod was probably right. It would put her in a position to break truce with the Elders and then fight for top position in the Interspecies Council. If a war broke out, she’d have gotten rid of the only wizard who could fight elven magic with elven magic. And with Jonas, she had her own wizard weapon in hand.

  Adrian proved he couldn’t keep his mouth shut by continuing to talk. “I need you to understand. At first, Lily just wanted the staff out of your hands, even though no one else could use it. Jonas and the Axeman were supposed to scare you into giving it up—you weren’t supposed to be hurt. Once she saw your elven magic went deeper than just using the staff, she wanted you dead. Then you bonded with Randolph, and that sealed it.”

  Damn it. “And keeping your father from knowing about your vampire girlfriend was worth helping them kill me?”

  He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. “It’s out of my hands now.”

  “You can still salvage this, Jonas.” I turned to the necromancer, who’d been listening to Adrian with amusement. “I’ll pay you not to kill me. Whatever Lily offered you, I’ll pay double.” Jean Lafitte had deep pockets and would be delighted if I owed him even more favors.

  Jonas raised an eyebrow. “And make an enemy of the elves? Forget it. They’re nuts. If Lily didn’t kill me, your mate would. And if he didn’t kill me, sooner or later Mace Banyan will find out about all of this. Hopefully, by then, Lily will be in charge and I’ll be a rich wizard living in Elf heim.”

  Mace Banyan was innocent?

  “You are both pathetic losers, you know that? Look, I’ll make a
deal—”

  A sharp pain in my head cut off further words, and I had a brief glimpse of something new before darkness overwhelmed me: a close-up view of a woman’s shiny black pumps.

  ***

  I heard the voices long before I was able to slit my eyes open to the same hardwood floor. I was still in the office at L’Amour Sauvage. Above and around me as I lay on my left side, an argument was in progress between Jonas, Adrian, and a woman. I recognized Lily’s voice. She must have cracked me over the head with something when she slipped in behind me.

  “Let Lafitte kill her.” Jonas’s voice grew louder and softer, in and out, up and down—he was pacing. “You said Randolph told you the staff is broken. Without it, she can’t win.”

  Good for Rand. He’d given me an advantage, at least. “Quince Randolph can’t be trusted.” Lily’s voice came from right in front of my head. “He went too far in bonding with her. Kill her now, one of you. We can’t risk her escaping from Lafitte and ruining everything.”

  A well-toned pair of ankles in black heels moved in front of my shuttered eyelids and I fought a wave of nausea. I gritted my teeth, sending sharp pains through my jaw and into my skull. What the hell had she hit me with? At least I could lay here and recuperate while they argued about who was going to kill me. Lily didn’t seem to want to get her hands dirty, and my fellow wizards were stalling.

  “I didn’t agree to kill her, not that she doesn’t deserve it, arrogant little twit. I’ll have nothing more to do with it.” Adrian’s voice was muffled—he was farther away than the others. “You said let you know of her whereabouts and you’d keep your mouth shut about Terri. That was the deal. Nothing more. I shouldn’t have let it get this far. Now we’ve shot the enforcer.”

  Lily’s shoes clicked out of sight and I heard the video room door opening and then closing again.