by Shéa MacLeod
I strode up to the first corner. There were two vamps hissing at me like a couple feral cats. They felt young. Newly turned. No more than a couple years. I knew without a doubt they wouldn’t have the information we needed.
“Sorry guys. End of the line.” And I dusted them both. UV ray straight to the heart.
The other corner held what appeared to be the last vampire. He matched the description given by the Radnor brothers. He was older than the other two vamps. Much older. I could feel the age of him pressing against the back of my head. And yet, strangely, he looked afraid. I was pretty sure it wasn’t of me.
I rubbed absently at my breastbone. I’d forgotten all about it in the fight, but now it felt like the bloody amulet was on fire.
“So, you like to hire redneck asshole idiots to do your dirty work, do you?”
His jaw worked. Finally he spit out, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, I think you do. My brother. Trevor Daly. You paid three men to attack and kill him. Why?”
The vamp’s mouth worked as though he wanted to say something, but nothing came out. He doubled over, as though in pain.
I grabbed him by the hair and yanked him back up. “Listen, you un-dead freak. I want to know why you had my brother beat up.”
It looked almost as if he was struggling to breathe. “Not me.” His voice was barely above a whisper. Strangled. “Not me.”
And then he burst into so much smoke. Ash, drifting to the floor.
“What the fuck?” I stared at the space where he’d been standing and then whirled to face Inigo. “I barely even touched him. What on earth is going on?”
Inigo shook his head. “Some kind of magic. Same as what I felt controlling the demon upstairs. It dissipated when the vampire dusted.”
Magic. I suddenly realized that the amulet which had felt like a hot coal against my skin now felt cool to the touch. I yanked it out and stared at it. No heat. No glow. But I knew without a doubt it had been glowing a minute before.
What the hell was going on?
Chapter Twelve
“What the hell is going on?” I stormed out of the farmhouse practically slamming the door behind me. Anger rode me hard, digging its claws deep into my soul. The Darkness stirred. It liked the anger.
I put a lid on it fast. The last thing I needed was for the Darkness to get out of control. Especially since I could feel the Fire hot on its heels, and that new thing swirling inside me. What was I? Some kind of godsdamned Fifth freaking Element?
I turned toward Inigo and if the look on his face was anything to go by, he was just as pissed as I was. “No, idea, babe. But something or someone was controlling those creatures, or they would not have been working together.”
“Yeah, and I’ll bet dollars to donuts whoever it was immolated that vamp so it couldn’t lead us straight to its master.” I really wanted to throw something. A rock, maybe. There were plenty of them lying around, but I refrained. Instead I dug around in the trunk for a change of clothes and some wet wipes. It was way too cold for stripping to my underwear, but I’d rather freeze my ass off than spend another minute covered in demon goo.
“Now what?” I asked as I yanked a clean shirt over my head. “How the hell are we going to figure out who’s behind this? That was our last lead.”
“No it wasn’t.”
I must have looked completely lost because Inigo laughed. I scowled, “Don’t you dare laugh at me.
He shook his head. In two strides he was at my side, pulling my unyielding body into his warmth. I couldn’t help it. I melted. Some bad-ass Vampire Hunter. One hug from her boyfriend and she melts like butter.
“We have one card left up our sleeves, Morgan. Have you forgotten?”
Apparently I had. I burrowed my face into his neck and breathed in his scent. It calmed me enough I could think semi-rationally again. “Remind me.”
“Trevor.”
I leaned back so I could see his face. “But Trevor only saw the hillbilly brothers and the kid, Mikey. How could he possibly lead us to whoever is behind all this?”
“I’m thinking your new little trick might be able to help with that.”
“You mean my sudden ability to create mini tornadoes? How is that going to help?”
He smiled. “Have you forgotten? The last time you channelled Air you saw a djinni kill Agent Vega.” He shrugged. “Maybe if you do it around a living person, someone still affected by the magic, you’ll pick up more.”
Hell, it was worth a try. With the nest gone we had nothing else, so after tossing my dirty clothes into the trunk, I climbed into the Mustang and cranked on the stereo. Loud. I needed a little rock music and Evanescence was just the thing. Inigo didn’t even crack a smile as I sang at the top of my lungs all the way to the hospital.
***
I have always hated hospitals. I think most people do. They’re kind of creepy and depressing and reek of chemicals.
“Shit, I hate hospitals.”
I glanced at Inigo in surprise. He couldn’t read my thoughts. My emotions maybe, but not my thoughts.
“I’m clairvoyant, remember? Hospitals hold lots of bad juju. I hate when they want to talk to me.”
We’d never really talked about it before. At least not on the whole “I see dead people” level. I guess I’d just thought of him as being like Cordelia. Communicating with the Other Side, and whatnot. I reached out and took his hand, threading my fingers through his. “Is it bad?”
His smile was a little forced. “Not if I ignore them.”
I stopped, tugging at his arm. “Why don’t you go back to the car? I can talk to Trevor.” I so didn’t want him in pain, and I could see just being here was hurting him. His eyes were haunted like I’d never seen before. It tore me up.
He squeezed my hand. “Morgan, I’m fine. I don’t break so easy. I’m not as weak as all that.”
“That is not what I meant … “
“I know what you meant,” he shushed me. “And I love you for it. But I’m fine. Let’s go talk to Trevor and then we can get out of here. Okay?”
“You’re the boss.”
That made him laugh. “Oh, right. That’ll happen.” He winked at me. I grinned and winked back.
Trevor was propped up in bed, being fussed over by an extremely pretty blonde nurse. It was pretty obvious she was smitten, which amused me no end.
“Hey, Trev.”
The nurse whirled on me. “I’m sorry, Miss.” Her tone was just this side of snarky. “Visiting hours are for family only.”
She was full of shit, of course, but her narrowed eyes screamed jealousy. I’d have loved to have played with her, but time was of the essence. “I am family. I’m his sister.”
By her expression, I could tell she didn’t believe me. She opened her mouth, but Trevor jumped to the rescue.
“It’s true, Emily. Morgan is my sister.”
That seemed to placate Nurse Emily, and she reluctantly toddled off to tend to her other patients.
“That one has the hots for you, big brother.” I couldn’t help the little jab.
He rolled his eyes. “She is driving me insane. They’ll need to check me into the psych ward after this.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Not your type?”
“Definitely not.”
I crossed to the bed and leaned down to give him a hug. “I’m so glad you’re okay.” He looked a little worse for wear — black eye, bruised cheekbone, arm in a sling — but he seemed chipper enough.
“You should see the other guys,” he joked.
“I did. Trust me. You definitely got the worst end of it.”
Trevor frowned. “They caught me off guard.” He said it like it had never happened before. Probably it hadn’t. Weird powers ran in the family, after all.
“We think they had a little magical help,” Inigo spoke up.
“No kidding?” That got Trevor’s attention.
“The guys who attacked you were hired by
a vampire.” I settled myself on the chair next to the bed. “Which is weird enough, but we found the vamp’s nest. They were working with a bunch of low-level demons.”
Trevor frowned. “That’s unusual.”
“No kidding. On top of that, when we tried to question one, it dusted. On its own.”
“Not exactly on its own,” Inigo pointed out. “There was magic involved. We just don’t know what kind of magic. We were hoping that if Morgan uses her new abilities on you, she’ll see something like she did with Vega.”
“It’s a good idea,” Trevor agreed, “but I was attacked by humans. Not supernaturals. I don’t see how Morgan can pick up anything.”
“There is one more thing,” I said.
Two pair of eyes turned toward me. I felt a little nervous and kind of dorky saying it, but it had to be said. “The amulet was glowing again.”
“What? Why didn’t you tell me?” Inigo was pissed.
I shrugged. “There wasn’t time. We were fighting more than two dozen demons and vamps. And then there was the dusting business.” I shook my head. “But the amulet got so hot it nearly burned my skin. And you know what Eddie said.”
Inigo nodded, but Trevor looked confused. “What did Eddie say? Why was your amulet glowing?”
I sighed. I didn’t want to say it out loud because it freaked me out no end, but Trevor had to know. “Sidhe magic. The Atlantean amulet glows in the presence of sidhe magic.”
Trevor gaped at me a moment. “The sidhe would never work with vampires. Or demons, for that matter. It’s … anathema. Not to mention a death warrant should the Fairy Queen find out.”
“Eddie said the Fairy Queen was the only one who might have enough power to control one of the djinn, but only a low-level one. He doesn’t think we’re looking for one of the fae, but with all this sidhe magic going on, I’m not convinced they’re so innocent. Are you sure the sidhe aren’t up to something?” It would be just like them, too. They did like to cause trouble.
Trevor shook his head. “In all my years with the SRA, I’ve never once heard of the fae dealing with such creatures as the djinn. I find it very hard to believe they’d start now.”
“And you’re sure you saw nothing else when the guys attacked you?”
“Sorry, Morgan. No.”
I sighed. “You mind if I do that wind thing again?”
He looked a little creeped out, but he agreed. Wasn’t sure if it was because he was my brother, or just a good agent. Maybe a little of both.
Inigo went to guard the door while I stood up and held my hands over Trevor’s body. I felt like a dork, but what else was new? Closing my eyes I reached down into that place where the Fire and Darkness lived, down to that new power that curled and wrapped around them.
Air.
It played coy at first, but I coaxed it until it began to gently unfurl up and out of my center and through the middle of my chest. It wrapped itself almost lovingly around my brother. Almost as though it channelled my own love for him.
Then, as if waking up, it began whipping around the room like it had with Vega. Faster and faster, until Trevor and I were caught in the middle of a mini tornado. The curtains thrashed wildly against the windows and the chair I’d been sitting on spun across the room until it crashed into the wall.
The palms of my hands grew warm as they hovered above the bed. My vision tunnelled down until it was just my hands, and Trevor, and the Air. And then another shape began to take form within the silvery smoke.
This time it wasn’t human shaped. It was something else. A tattoo on a man’s arm. A symbol. A symbol I knew very well indeed.
The symbol of the ancient Atlantean Royal House. The same symbol my brother wore around his neck.
Chapter Thirteen
“Morgan, no one with any connection to that symbol would ever harm me,” Trevor insisted.
“So, there are people out there with the crest of the Royal House of Atlantis tattooed on their bodies?” I was pacing back and forth in front of Trevor’s hospital bed.
“Yes, of course,” he nodded. “My father — our father — told me about them when he gave me the amulet. They are descendents of the Atlantean Sentinels. Sworn to protect the Bloodline.”
That stopped me in my tracks. “Say what?” This was the first I’d heard of any Sentinels.
He shifted in bed a bit, wincing as he jarred his injured arm. “I don’t really know much about it. Dad just said that if ever I met a man with a tattoo matching the amulet, I was to trust that man with my life.”
“And have you met anyone with that tattoo?”
“About a year after Dad died, yes.” He rubbed absently at his forehead. He probably had a throbbing headache, and no doubt little nurse Emily would be in to throw us out any minute. “I was hanging out with some friends and this old Native American guy came up to me. Said he knew my father, and he was sorry. Usual stuff. I shook his hand and that’s when I saw the tattoo on his inner forearm.”
“So, he was letting you know he was there. Watching over you, or whatever.” It made perfect sense. If there really was some super-secret society of Sentinels out there. Say that three times fast.
“Yeah, that’s my guess.” Trevor nodded, fatigue beginning to show around his eyes. His normally rich, latte skin had a decidedly chalky cast to it. I was betting he was more hurt than he let on. Men and their machismo.
“Okay, we’re out of here. You get some rest.” I leaned over and gave him a peck on the forehead. “I don’t suppose the old guy is still alive?”
“Sure. His name is Tommy Waheneka. He’s a tribal shaman and he still lives on the Warm Springs Reservation.”
***
Tommy Waheneka lived beyond the last outpost, and then some. Seriously, his cabin gave new meaning to the word “rugged.” I was halfway to hearing duelling banjos in my head by the time we finally arrived at his front door in a cloud of dust and screeching chickens.
Tommy looked about a thousand years old, leathery face worn and creased by sun and time. His eyes, they were ageless. Bright and new and filled with humor that mocked the world. I liked him instantly.
“Nice car.” He glanced at the Mustang and went back to rocking gently on his front porch and whittling a stick into what looked like some kind of animal.
“Thanks. Tommy?”
He didn’t say a word, just kept rocking.
“Stupid me. Who else would you be out here in the back-ass of nowhere? Can I see your arm?” When in doubt, be blunt.
Tommy’s fingers stilled. So did the rocking. I thought for a moment he’d refuse. Instead he held his left arm out and then slowly turned it over and pulled his jacket sleeve up to expose the inside of his forearm. Tattooed on the coppery skin was the same symbol Trevor wore around his neck: The symbol for the Royal House of Atlantis.
“Took you long enough.” His voice was scratchy, but surprisingly strong for such an old guy.
“You’re a Sentinel.”
“Not exactly,” he said with maddening calm. His fingers went back to whittling and he went back to rocking.
“What do you mean, not exactly? Trevor Daly told me the Sentinels bear the mark of the Royal House. He told me you were a Sentinel.”
He was quiet so long, I thought he wouldn’t speak. “I knew your father.”
I had expected it, but it still kind of floored me. “How?”
“He was a good man, Alexander Morgan.”
It didn’t exactly answer my question, but I had a feeling that pushing wouldn’t get me anywhere, so I kept my mouth shut. Not a common occurrence for me, but I was trying.
The rocking chair squeaked over the porch boards, the knife scratched against the small bit of wood in Tommy’s fingers. The old man was silent for what seemed like ages. “You look a bit like him around the eyes. A little like his son, too.”
“Yeah?”
“You’re stronger than him, though. Your Father.”
“I am?” I couldn’t imagine that.
>
“How many do you carry inside you now?”
My heart stopped. Then it pounded in my throat so hard I couldn’t breathe. “What?” I glanced over at Inigo who shrugged. Obviously he was as confused as I was.
“Elements.” His voice was so calm. So quiet. As though nothing could ruffle the man. “How many do you carry inside you?”
I swallowed hard. How on earth did he know? “Three.”
He nodded as if it all made perfect sense. “Three more.”
“What? Did you say three more?”
He nodded placidly, still intent on carving whatever it was in his hands. “There are six.”
“Six? Are you fu … freaking kidding me?”
His face remained placid, but I could almost feel the laughter coming off him in waves.
“What are the other three?”
Tommy rocked gently as he whittled away. “What do you think?”
More riddles. Lovely. “Well, going with the whole elemental theme, I’d say water and earth. But the sixth? No idea.”
“It’ll come to you. In time.”
“How do you know all this if you aren’t a Sentinel? Why do you have the Sentinel mark? How did you know my father?” The questions spilled out. I couldn’t stop myself.
Without a word, Tommy got up out of the rocker and went into the house, leaving the door open behind him. I just stared. What the hell?
Inigo gave me a little nudge. “I think he wants us to follow him.”
“How can you tell that?”
“He didn’t slam the door in our faces.”
Good point.
The cabin was a single room, warm and dim. Shadows swam in the corners and the air smelled of burning sage and wood smoke. Dried herbs hung from the rafters. Small bottles of various powders and liquids lined the shelves along one wall.
Tommy was stirring a pot of something on the woodstove. “Sit.”
The only place to sit was at a well-worn, oak table against one wall of the cabin. “Are those for brewing potions or something?” I pointed at the wall of bottles.
Tommy gave me a look that told me I just said something really stupid. “They’re cooking spices.”