The Gray Tower Trilogy: Books 1-3

by Alesha Escobar

  “I’d never think to see you here, Isabella. How’s...oh, what was his name again? Ian?” She smiled, and I had the sudden urge to slap the smirk off her face.

  “You have a lot to answer for,” I said. “You made a mistake coming in here tonight.”

  She looked unconcerned and turned her gaze toward Praskovya. “Nikon, when did you become bosom buddies with her?”

  Praskovya drank down her Martini and gestured for Vasco to bring another. “Buddy...is too strong of a word. Why don’t you tell me what you’re doing here?”

  A tall man with dark brown hair interrupted us to ask Casandra to dance with him. She glanced at us, and without answering Praskovya’s question, hit the dance floor with her partner, all the while watching us with calculating eyes. I wanted to lunge at her and claw those eyes out. She had probably fled London to escape MI6 and SOE since they were investigating her involvement with Ian and Ryker. I couldn’t believe Ian fell for her wiles, and it angered me to see her over here, carefree, drinking and dancing, while Ian lay disgraced and in a coma.

  Praskovya accepted her new drink and took a slow sip. “I’m going to cut her head off.”

  “Well, get in line,” I mumbled, confiscating her martini and downing the rest of it.

  She wore a shocked expression. “What was that?”

  “Maybe she deserves it.” I kept thinking about Ian.

  “Now this is the Isabella that I like.” She eyed me with approval and then said in Russian, “Killer.”

  All right, when Nikon Praskovya complimented you like that, then maybe your moral compass needed a little readjusting. I looked askance when she showed me a folded slip of paper. “What’s that?”

  She smoothed the note between her fingers. “A waiter handed this to me while you were busy threatening Casandra. Either Jasmine Léon is a friend of yours, or she likes women.”

  I glared at her and snatched the note from her grasp. I opened it and memorized the address written down, then shredded the paper. “What time is it?”

  “It’s too late. We’ve missed Alban.”

  I cursed. “And we lost Casandra. She’s gone.”

  Praskovya scanned the dance floor. “I have a feeling that she will return.”

  I let out an exasperated breath. “I know that you’re not supposed to be actively working against me, but I would like for you to actually help me on this. If you get a note that’s meant for me, then don’t read it. If Casandra is wandering off, then let me know. Got it?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Got it.”

  Since there was no use staying at the club, I decided to take Jasmine up on her offer to meet her at her villa in the Pozuelo de Alarcón neighborhood, just outside the city proper. I certainly wasn’t going to take Praskovya along, so I decided I would slip her a sleeping potion made up of valerian and poppy herbs enhanced with an infusion of magical energy. We arrived at the little house I had rented for us through some old contacts, and after we slipped into more comfortable clothes, I immediately went to the kitchen to pour wine and whip up a quick meal. We had few groceries, but I was able to make a dish of scrambled eggs with chopped vegetables and slices of bread and cheese on the side. Not exactly gourmet, but it would do.

  Praskovya had no interest in helping me with the food, and just sat on the red couch in the living room, pretending to take an interest in the decor. I brought the glasses of wine over and set them on the coffee table in front of her. I went back for the plates, utensils, and napkins. I settled down on a cushion across from her because I wanted to put a little space between us just in case she took another swing at me or tried to use telekinesis to send something flying at my head. I prodded a glass of wine toward her.

  She ignored the wine and bit into a slice of bread. “You’ve grown spoiled.”

  I dug into my eggs. “What are you talking about?”

  She glanced around the room. “This nice house, with its expensive tile floors and view of the city...what happened to staying in a gritty hotel where no one knew your name?”

  “Come on, Praskovya. You should know--one day you’re in a nice room and the next you’re in hell. It just depends on the assignment.” I polished off my eggs and ate a couple of slices of cheese.

  “How do you think this will end, Isabella?”

  I grabbed my wineglass and took a sip. “For you, badly, if you do anything to break your oath.”

  She shoveled some eggs onto her bread and ate. “You say that, but part of me believes you will not enact the bind.”

  “Well I’m not letting you go. That’s for sure. How did you even get caught up with Octavian?”

  “That’s none of your concern.”

  “Okay, fine. You said Octavian could do powerful things. What sorts of things?”

  Her finger traced the rim of her wineglass, but she didn’t lift it to her lips. “I’ve seen him level buildings, cast curses on people who weren’t even in his presence, and he has knowledge of things happening from hundreds of miles away. Add to that his speed, intelligence and strength, and you have someone who’s very hard to kill.”

  I drank more wine. “Is he more powerful than the Master Wizards? Or The Three?”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know.”

  “Why are you afraid of Master Skye, aside from the obvious?”

  She finished her eggs, then asked, “Did you see his cane?”

  I nodded. “Don’t tell me he beats you with it.”

  “That dragon emblem on there represents what he becomes when he transforms himself.”

  I stared at her and wanted to laugh. “He turns into a dragon? Are you serious?”

  “You don’t have to believe me, but he becomes a black dragon at night. I’m sure that’s why he enjoys staying up in the Shetland Islands where there are hardly any residents other than a handful of fishermen.”

  “I know of nature wizards who are able to change their faces, or hair color and height. But I’ve never heard of a full transformation like that. No one’s done that in a hundred years.”

  “Fine, don’t believe me.”

  I shook my head. “You’ve had too much wine.”

  She smiled. “I haven’t had any wine.”

  “Yes, that’ right. Why don’t you have some?”

  “I know you put something in my drink.” She leaned over and switched our glasses. “If you drink from my glass, then I’ll have some.”

  “All right...” I cleared my throat and drank.

  She stared at me for a few seconds before bypassing her glass and taking the one I had been using. She sipped from it. “You’re going to leave me here while you go to Jasmine Léon’s villa?”

  “That’s the plan. By the way, I’ve built up a tolerance to this valerian sleeping potion--both drinks were drugged.”

  “Alchemist bitch...” She lunged toward me, but stumbled and crashed to the floor, unconscious.

  I pulled her onto the sofa and noted the time. She should be out for the night and I’d just have to make it back before she woke. I secured my golden knife, then slung on a holster and slipped my pistol inside, concealing it with my jacket. As I stepped outside to hail a cab, I thought of Casandra once more, and wondered if I really had it in me to run her down and outright attack her. I felt queasy at the idea of having thoughts similar to Praskovya, but, at the same time, I refused to let what Casandra did to Ian go unpunished. When I tracked down the Nazis who had executed Morton’s sister, Anna, I had captured them and planned to bring them in. They fought back and preferred death on their own terms. However, with Casandra, I didn’t want to just chase her down and arrest her so she could go to prison in the Shetland Islands--I wanted her to suffer before getting a stake through the heart.

  The cab got me to Jasmine’s in less than fifteen minutes. It pulled into the villa’s long driveway, parking close to the main house. As I approached the front door and knocked, I tried dispelling all these bitter thoughts and feelings. For now, at least, I would be among fr
iends.

  “Good evening,” the maid said to me in French as she welcomed me in. Good, Jasmine knew to keep those in her regular employ with her when away from home.

  “Good evening, Lydie.” I smiled and stepped inside.

  “Would you like me to take your jacket?” She gave me a timid smile in return.

  “Thank you, but no.” I looked ahead and saw Jasmine already rushing toward me.

  “There you are! For a moment I didn’t know if you’d show up.” She ushered me into the living room and sat me on the couch. “So what’s brought you to Spain? I thought you were off on vacation.”

  I gratefully accepted a glass of water from Lydie. “I was, but...” I lowered my gaze and thought about Ken.

  Her smile faded. “I know about Kenneth...OSS told me right before I left Paris. I’m so sorry.” She wrapped her arms around me and gave me a hug. “Call me what you want, but I wouldn’t blame you one bit if you decided to quit.”

  “It’s too late for that.”

  “You’re still young, you have your whole life ahead of you.” She ran her fingers through her dark waves and gave me a sad smile.

  I finished my water and set the empty glass down. “I’m going to get the person who killed him, Jasmine.”

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  I shook my head. “Just be careful. Rumors are spreading about you being involved with the French Resistance.”

  She shook her head and accepted a drink from the maid. “Look at you...all work. You need to go back to your vacation. You need one.”

  I smiled when I saw Penn come in from the hallway. He wore a burgundy silk robe over his pajamas and he had cut his hair even shorter since the last time I saw him. “Hey, Penn, what are you doing here?”

  Jasmine told him in French, “Don’t say anything.”

  He rumbled with laughter and approached me. “You know how Jasmine gets lonely and always wants company.”

  “It’s good to see you.” I wrapped my arms around his thick, stocky frame and gave a tight squeeze.

  “By the way,” he said as he took a seat across from us, “I have some jade powder you might be interested in.”

  “How much?”

  “Three ounces...so, enough for a few healings.”

  “I want it.”

  He pulled out a small velvet satchel and handed it to me. “For you, I’ll cut the price down to two hundred.”

  “Give it to her,” Jasmine said. “I’ll pay you.”

  I tucked the satchel away in my coat pocket. “Are you on assignment, or just in Spain to perform?”

  “OSS asked Jasmine to collect information about Nazi experimental programs that they think are being run here in Spain,” Penn answered in a tone of disapproval.

  “You mean the ones run by Dr. Meier?” I had heard my fill of horror stories about those programs. They especially liked using wizards they captured as test subjects.

  “See, this is why I wanted to leave you in Paris,” Jasmine said, wagging her finger at him. “I’ve been on assignment here before. I know how to handle myself.”

  Penn shook his head. “Let them get one of their professional spies to do it, and leave you out of it.”

  “Jasmine’s right,” I said. “We don’t always need a guy running after us and trying to save us all the time.” I leaned back and glared at him.

  Penn ignored my comment. “And what are you doing in Spain? Getting into more trouble I suppose?”

  “Do you know a warlock named Alban? He likes to spend his evenings at La Cocina.”

  He shook his head. “Never heard of him. Why are you after him?”

  If I told him why, he’d probably try to throw me into a car and drive me out of Madrid. “SOE wants him. He’s a criminal.”

  Penn gave me a look that told me that he wasn’t satisfied with my answer. “I swear you women are going to give me a heart attack.”

  Jasmine went over to him and eased into his lap. “We’ll be careful.” She kissed him, and all the tension in his face melted away.

  The doorbell rang. “Are you guys expecting anyone here at this hour? It’s past midnight.”

  Lydie came rushing into the living room. “Miss Léon,” she said in a harsh whisper, “it’s the Spanish police.”

  Four uniformed policemen barged in. The one with the thick mustache, who introduced himself as officer Carmona, addressed us. “Miss Léon, we need you to come down to the station with us.”

  “For what reason?” Penn asked, shielding her.

  “This is official police business,” he said.

  As soon as he said these words, I reached for my pistol beneath my jacket. “Carmona” had let his true accent slip through. These men were anything but Spanish policemen.

  “Hand over your weapon,” the second officer said, gripping Lydie’s heart-shaped face with his hand, “or else your friends will die.” He dug his fingers into the soft area just beneath her chin and made her sob.

  I slowly pulled out my gun and handed it to the third officer who came around to grab it. He took the gun with his right hand and made a sudden movement with his left. It took me a second to realize that he had punctured me with a tiny needle attached to his ring.

  Run! I screamed in my head, but my mouth felt numb and my jaws clenched. I dropped to my knees and pulled out my golden knife, flicking my wrist to create an Air symbol. The fake officer wrested my knife from my grasp, and my mind was too far-gone to activate the symbol.

  I finally slumped to the floor, and as my vision blurred, I strained to hear what ensued: shrieks, furniture toppling amidst a physical fight...and gunshots. My eyelids drooped and my mind became befuddled from the drug. When I could only hear Jasmine weeping, I knew that the imposter officers had killed the others.

  36

  I awoke when I felt a sharp pain in my stomach. I tried to rise, but my head swam and my upper-body felt weak. A pair of cold cuffs clamped down around my wrists and chained me to a flimsy cot. I turned to my side as much as I could and scanned the large room. Long counters ran along the walls, and at the opposite end stood an upright platform with more chains and cuffs. A workstation island sat in the center. I felt nauseated when I noticed body parts stuffed inside glass jars. Fear crept upon me as I realized that the “tools” at the workstation were fortified with enchantments meant to tear, break, and destroy.

  When I heard the lock on the lab door click open, I lowered my head and closed my eyes, pretending to be unconscious. I recognized the fake officer Carmona’s voice as he came into the lab room with another man. Carmona came right over to my cot and spoke to me.

  “Are you awake?”

  I didn’t respond, partly out of fear and also by chance if I could continue eavesdropping and learn anything of use.

  “Perhaps it was too strong of a dosage. She’s been out for nearly twenty hours,” the second man said in a heavy German accent.

  “Well, she’s not dead,” Carmona said. “She’s breathing.”

  “She had better not be dead,” the other man said. “I need her for the next experiment.”

  My eyes involuntarily shot open, and my gaze fell on Carmona. He had ditched his Spanish police uniform and wore black fatigues. “Ah, there she is. Good evening, Isabella.”

  “Who are you?” I glanced at the door on the opposite side of the room--my only exit.

  Carmona brushed his finger across his mustache, and the hairs crinkled and shrunk until they disappeared and left a clean-shaven face. His round face became more oval, and his jet-black hair turned a deep blond. He looked annoyed that his appearance had changed. “I believe you’re looking for me. I’m Alban.”

  Odd, I would’ve been able to feel his magic by now. Even the strongest and most talented wizards couldn’t mask themselves for too long from those who also had powers. We could always sense one another, as well as the tainted magic of warlocks and Cruenti. I reached out with my senses and tasted pure gold laced with the enchantment of an imperium collar
. There were no imperium collars present though, but what did catch my attention were the metal linings along the ceiling--gold linings.

  “And I am Dr. Falk Meier,” the second man said, observing me through his spectacles. “I created this...” he pointed to the ceiling at the imperium gold. It certainly subdued the magic use of alchemists, elementals, and others--but what about the Drifter? Falk never had one to experiment on, and I needed to make sure it stayed that way.

  I said in a level voice, “A lot of people are looking for you as well, Falk. What do you hope to gain by these experiments?”

  “Progress. Governments may dislike that a man like me created imperium gold, but they still purchase the material so they can make their collars.” He approached me and knelt to eye-level, as if speaking to a child. “I’m not here to inflict mindless torture, but rather to study you.”

  “But not before I have my turn,” Alban said. “She’s a spy, and she has useful information.” He shifted in his seat, visibly uncomfortable in a room lined with the warded gold that prevented him from using his powers--and me from using my alchemist abilities.

  Falk stood. “At least let me run some preliminary tests, then you may interrogate her.”

  “What do you want to know, Alban?” I kept my expression calm and watched his reaction. I refused to let Falk anywhere near me for “preliminary tests.”

  Alban faced Falk. “Give me ten minutes.”

  Falk glared at him, but relented. “Very well. I suppose I can go check on the others. Just make sure you don’t harm her too much.”

  My insides froze as I watched the doctor walk out. As soon as the door opened, I heard a cacophony of screams coming from down the hall. Alban pulled up a chair from the workstation and brought it toward me. He sat in the chair and leaned back, as if engaging in casual conversation.

  “I can take you out of here,” he said. “You don’t need to stay here and suffer. Just give me what I want.”

  “What about my friends you attacked back at the villa?”

  “Everyone is dead, except Jasmine Léon. The only reason she’s alive is because I’m going to make you watch her suffer if you don’t tell me what I want to know. Nikon won’t tell me why she’s in Spain, but that’s of little consequence.”