Your Money's Worth: Seattle Elementals, Book 1

by Connie Suttle

  "I wish I could be as confident as you," I told him.

  "It'll come," Cliff grinned. "Stop worrying, send a message to the Chancellor, tell the private meeting folks that you'll get back to them when you're finished sorting out the duties and work left behind by the former Prince, and tell the arbitration people that we'll schedule dates soon."

  "Who is going to keep track of all this?" I asked.

  "Rob is excellent at it," Cliff said. "He's just waiting for you to ask him."

  "He really wants to?" I blinked at Cliff. I couldn't keep the confusion out of my voice.

  "He liked working at the courthouse, too," Cliff said. "He enjoys putting things—and people—in order."

  "I can see that," I agreed. "I'll ask him after dinner."

  "Good. He'll handle the paperwork you have on your desk," a corner of Cliff's mouth curled upward. "I think he'll be happy to deal with it."

  "Good."

  "I have eyes on Claude's property—in case anybody comes sniffing around the rubble," Cliff added. "Don't worry," he held up a hand when I started to say something, "They're far enough away that the wolfsbane won't affect them."

  "You think Dalton and Morton may show up, don't you?" I asked.

  "It's possible," he lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug. "Better to cover all the bases, or all the known bases, anyway."

  "True. Have there been any more murders?" I asked casually while pretending to straighten the papers on my desk.

  "None using their MO," Cliff said. "It makes sense, though, because they're probably lying low at this point."

  "Right."

  "One more thing," Cliff said.

  "What's that?"

  "Rob and I—have access to half a dozen demon killers."

  I froze. Demon killers. The rifles too heavy for anyone except a supernatural to carry. Rifles so deadly, they could kill a demon. Ordinary bullets wouldn't do it, if the demon were in their alternate form.

  "Can we, ah, table that unless they're needed?" I whispered.

  "Yes. I just wanted you to know, in case they're needed to take Dalton and Morton down."

  "Do you think they have some, too?" I did and didn't want to know the answer. Those two were murderous enough. We didn't need this kind of threat.

  "We have to assume the worst," Cliff replied.

  He was right—we had to assume the worst, because they were capable of it.

  "We need to find them," I said, rising from my chair. "I need my donut now."

  * * *

  Parke

  For the tenth time, I wished that Pauline wasn't dead. I wanted to question her. Ask her how she contacted her employers with information. For the tenth time, I castigated myself for not delving deeper into her secrets while she worked for me.

  Cassie would have known right away that something was wrong, I reminded myself. She'd known about Geoffrey and Annabelle easily enough. I was a truth demon. I didn't have the sixth sense that Cassie appeared to possess.

  I felt guilty (again) for dismissing her concern about Shakkor Agdah when she first reported Cliff and Rob's fears to me. She'd felt it warranted my attention and I'd ignored it.

  Destiny was right—I wasn't a good husband. I'd waited to tell her about my apparent split with Cassie until the day before; she hadn't been happy about the dissolved marriage. I attempted to explain that we couldn't be married if Cassie were the Princess of Alabama.

  "A good husband would change the law," Destiny had informed me, her thin arms crossed over her chest in obvious anger. "If he's the Chancellor."

  She'd zinged me twice—about being a bad husband and a poor Chancellor, too. Leave it to a twelve-year-old to say the truth nobody else was willing to tell.

  "You're right, Dess," I whispered. "I've fucked this up for sure."

  Time to get your act together and start behaving like the Chancellor, I told myself. Cassie's e-mail caused my tablet to ding. I opened it right away.

  We should tell the royalty that Shakkor Agdah is active again, she wrote. So they won't be blindsided if something happens in their principality.

  She was right. I had a feeling Cliff had urged her to write the message. He was right, too.

  Tell them Dalton and Morton have likely allied with SA she added.

  "On it, baby," I breathed and pulled my cell phone into my hand.

  * * *

  Cassie

  "What did you say to him? We've had six calls already," Rob said, holding up his cell phone.

  "I just told him he should make the announcement," I replied.

  "He got it done in a hurry, then," Rob scrolled through messages on his phone. Evidently, the message had come to Cliff, first, as he was Grand Master of the werewolves. He'd sent it out to all his Packmasters immediately.

  The message also went to all the demon royalty and the sprite races.

  "At least they're on notice, now, and have Morton and Dalton's images out," Cliff stalked into the room like a caged wolf.

  "I'm concerned they may discover we've put out the word," I said.

  "I'm not—those fuckers know we know about them, now," Cliff growled. "They know we'll be watching for them. All of us."

  "I'm concerned for the humans," I pointed a finger at Cliff. "They were the targets last time, or so I hear. It was humans who died in California, remember?"

  "And one water demon," Cliff pointed out.

  "True. But that was done by an ice demon, not Shakkor Agdah."

  "Also true."

  "My question is this; was the ice demon Dalton or Morton, or someone else?" I asked.

  "Good question. I suppose it could have been done by one of those two; they can get on a plane just like anyone else."

  "Or rent one, maybe?" I asked. "The Shakkor Agdah we saw had tattoos and poison boils all over them. Nobody said anything about the person renting the plane looking anything but ordinary."

  "Perhaps a spell?" Rob suggested.

  "Maybe," Cliff nodded.

  "Or spells and an ice demon, who helped them with the rental after he killed the water demon in California."

  "All the camera images were blurry," Rob acknowledged. "There could have been more than initially reported, and there certainly could have been an ice demon with them."

  "And nobody knows where they went after wrecking the plane in Mexico," Cliff said.

  "So we know there has to be at least six Shakkor Agdah involved in that. Who knows how many more there are?"

  "They've had centuries to build up their numbers," Rob observed. "It was a dream to think they were all dead after the last paranormal war."

  "Too bad for us," Cliff said.

  "Wait—these aren't humans who've gone bad?" I asked. I admit, that hadn't crossed my mind before. What I'd killed had certainly looked human—except for the boils and strange tattoos on their skin.

  "Separate race," Cliff said. "Smell different from humans; I can vouch for that. Ask the vamps, too; they sure as hell know because of scent."

  "They can perform minor spells, according to the records," Rob said. "Enough to confound humans or get them killed. They hate the humans, too, for reasons known only to Shakkor Agdah."

  "Averill will send the records soon; I have communicated with him recently," Rob promised. "The scholars are still working on the translations."

  "Thank you." I didn't say that I felt afraid to read those records. The Black Death was a form of genocide, if what Cliff and Rob said were true. Shakkor Agdah had almost accomplished their goal in the past.

  It was my guess that only the paranormal community, working together, had prevented complete annihilation.

  How were we going to defeat them this time?

  "So far, they've only struck in an isolated incident," Cliff reminded me. Perhaps he'd seen the worry on my face, or scented fear about me.

  It didn't matter—he was right. I worried about the hammer dropping, as Aunt Shelbie used to say.

  * * *

  Zedarius

  My head je
rked up when I felt the first death. Not by Shakkor Agdah, but by their puppet ice demons.

  Four deaths, in swift succession. All of them with connections to Cassie.

  I'd stopped thinking of her in terms of fire demon only. She bore a name and I used it. These deaths would grieve her greatly.

  They were attempting to stop her.

  Weaken her.

  Convince her to give up the fight.

  I hissed my anger into the wind.

  * * *

  Cassie

  Rob and I were going over our replies to the requests I'd been handed earlier when Cliff strode into my office.

  "Bad news," he said. He wore an expression of fury, and struggled to keep it from his voice.

  "What is it?" I was on my feet immediately.

  "Four people are dead," Cliff hissed. "All frozen to death, with no human explanation as to how that might occur."

  Chapter 15

  Cassie

  Of the four deaths, Binita's was the one that made me want to cry forever. The law professor who'd been kind to me and my former landlords were among the dead.

  All had connections to me.

  "They're attempting to weaken you," Rob handed a cup of coffee to me. I sat in the kitchen, shivering and staring at the digital clock on the microwave. Time had slowed to a stop, I think, while I went numb.

  "Weaken? Hell, they want to render her useless," Cliff snapped and stalked out of the kitchen.

  He was right—at the moment, I was useless. I couldn't move, I was so dazed.

  They like killing, I reminded myself. A part of me wept and silently begged that the deaths had been swift.

  Binita had been sentenced to death because she knew me.

  That kept playing through my mind continuously, like a loop of film running through an outdated projector, the same scenes appearing over and over.

  "You can't take the blame for this," Rob raked fingers through his hair, making it uncharacteristically untidy. "If Shakkor Agdah has their way, we'll all die eventually. Without you it may be sooner, rather than later."

  "It came sooner for Binita."

  "I know," his voice became gentle. "Don't let them win the war in the first volley, Princess."

  "Will you notify Parke—the Chancellor, on my behalf?" My eyes and face felt swollen.

  Frozen.

  It was difficult to speak the words through numbed lips.

  "Yes. Cliff has likely done it already, but I will send official notice from the Princess of Alabama."

  "Thank you." I whispered. He turned to go. "Rob," I said before he left the kitchen.

  "What do you need, Cassie?" He turned concerned eyes in my direction.

  "Tell Parke that I think it's time the human population had images of Dalton and Morton to look at. Tell him to ask Trey to put that forward to his superiors. Humans need to know to stay away from those two."

  "I'll make the suggestion on your behalf."

  "Thank you."

  * * *

  Zedarius

  Gina told me the news the following morning at breakfast. I already knew, but listened anyway. She carefully avoided mention of paranormal involvement, choosing to say four people that Cassie knew had perished.

  My superior died the last time Shakkor Agdah went to war. He'd waited too long to wade into the fight and too many had fallen because of it. I understood Cassie's grief all too well.

  They thought to cripple her at a critical time.

  I worried that they would succeed in their goal.

  "How is she?" I asked, meaning Cassie.

  "As well as can be expected," Gina's shoulders slumped.

  "Too many blows," I said, sipping coffee.

  "Yes. Too close together," she agreed.

  "You'll let me know if there's anything I can do?" I placed power in my words.

  "I will."

  "Good." Better that she didn't know that the attacks would come soon. Today would be a sunny day in February. Let them enjoy as much of it as they could.

  * * *

  Parke

  "We've already sent out the bulletins," a voice on the phone informed me.

  Trey had done his part the night before; his superiors understood the urgency and the necessity of alerting the human population.

  Dalton and Morton King's images would be splashed on news programs across the country, as persons of interest in four Alabama deaths.

  One of those deaths meant much to Cassie; Binita Singh, the closest friend she'd had in law school.

  I'd stayed home for the day. Daniel, Trey and Lance had flown in from California the night before; I'd asked Trey for help shortly after his arrival.

  He was now sleeping in a shuttered and closed-off bedroom in the house; the rest of us were up and around. Word had gone out about Dalton and Morton, early enough to hit all the morning news programs.

  Humans had awakened to the news of four deaths in Alabama, with associated photographs of the two suspects.

  "Problem," Daniel strode through the door of my home office, a tablet in his hand.

  "What's this?" I asked as he propped the device on my desk so I could watch a video.

  "This just came through the news networks," Daniel said. "This happened in Mobile."

  I hit the arrow to play the video and watched as the recording from a Mobile Police station played.

  The image wasn't the best, but sound was included.

  A man, dressed in a prison guard's uniform, rushed in and demanded to see the Captain.

  The desk sergeant informed him that the Captain was out.

  "I want to make a report," the guard shouted.

  "You'll have to calm down," the sergeant replied.

  "I saw him," the guard insisted. He was fidgeting and nervous, as if he couldn't stay still for a moment.

  "Saw who?" the sergeant demanded.

  "Him. On the news, M-M-Mo," the man clutched his chest and fell to his knees.

  The desk sergeant went to the guard when he slumped to the floor. "He's not breathing," the sergeant shouted. "Call the paramedics."

  The journalist appeared onscreen, then, announcing that the prison guard was pronounced dead at the scene from an apparent heart attack.

  "Who do you think he might have meant?" Daniel looked grim as I stopped the video.

  "He saw Morton, looks like, and Shakkor Agdah stopped him before he could do anything about it."

  "Get on a plane to Alabama," I snapped. "Take Lance with you. I'll ask the Prince of Washington to provide guards while you're gone."

  "What about Trey?" Daniel asked.

  "I'm hoping he has a dozen vampire friends he can call when he gets to Alabama later tonight," I said. "The manhunt starts now."

  * * *

  Cassie

  "The Chancellor is sending Daniel and Lance to Mobile after that prison guard died," Cliff informed me.

  I sat listlessly at my desk. I was supposed to approve the replies Rob and I put together the night before, but I was only seeing paper and no words. Yes, I'd been shown the guard's death. All of us were sure he'd been trying to say Morton's name before he died.

  Morton.

  My father.

  Murderer.

  Had he killed Binita himself, or allowed my equally as murderous grandfather to do it?

  "He also says that the vampire will follow on a night flight. He expects us to put a team together to assist Daniel."

  "Who do we have?" I allowed my right hand to slide off the desk and onto my lap. I clenched my fist there, trying to force feeling into it.

  "I have a short list prepared, with their type and abilities," Cliff set another paper in front of me.

  Two were rock demons. Two were werewolf. Another two—vampire. "Rob says that the sprites will send one from each race—trackers," Cliff added.

  "Good," I allowed a sigh to escape. Trackers of any kind would surely be helpful.

  "We need the word from you—to kill Dalton, Morton or any Shakkor Agdah they find
."

  "The word is given," I said without hesitation.

  * * *

  Dalton King

  "It's hilarious," Morton said.

  "It's inconvenient," I snapped back. "Where do you think you'll get barbecue, if the restaurant you like recognizes you and calls the police?"

  "Human police," Morton snorted.

  "Right behind the human police could be the paranormal kind," I reminded him. "Not so easy to kill if they know what they're looking for. I say it's time to tell our allies that we're bowing out of the picture and going back to Mexico. For a while, anyway."

  "They know where the house is, remember?" Morton's sullenness was evident in his tone. "We can't get to the hidden money if they're watching the property."

  "Get another house. I'm sure we can put money together on the way."

  "We'll have to go farther south. I hear Ecuador is a good place to go."

  "I don't give a fuck where it is, I say we head in that direction and let our contacts know when we're halfway there."

  "Whatever you say, Dad."

  "I hate it when you call me that."

  "It's why I said it, Dad."

  * * *

  Cassie

  My mood swung from depression to anger most of the day. I didn't turn on the news after a while; all the local channels could talk about were the deaths and the suspects.

  I'd never met Binita's parents. I wanted to weep for them, just as I did for Binita. A part of me wanted to confess my involvement to them. Another part cringed from the accusations that would come.

  All of it involved what I was and what was waging war against me—my own family and their allies. That meant I could never approach anyone who'd suffered losses because of me.

  It could make them targets, too.

  * * *

  Cliff

  "I expect them to attack us at any time," Rob said. "Now that they've managed to hit her like this."

  "We don't have a clue how they'll do it," I snarled. Yes, I'd been thinking the same thing and my temper was short because of it. We'd sent those we'd chosen toward Mobile; they'd be joining Daniel and Lance to begin their investigation.

  The guard was a place to start; I'm sure his family was being questioned at length. It may have been cruel to plan a second questioning of grieving relatives, but it had to be done.