“Whore? That one?” Sylvan asked.
“Seriously? A club named Whore?” Diana was briefly incensed on behalf of womankind. The older woman just shrugged. “And you know this man well enough that you lent him your coven leader’s house without a second thought?” she asked, shaking her head.
“He said they promised me some beauty charms and a love spell. . .a. . .a permanent one.”
“A permanent love spell? For whom?”
Short-term love spells were hard to come by. A permanent one would be worth more than most countries domestic GDP.
“For my daughter, of course, so that she will marry well,” Fiona answered, smoothing the skirt of her dress fastidiously.
Diana looked over at Miss Silicone in genuine bewilderment. “You think those will have a problem attracting a suitor?”
The servant made a choking sound as he stifled a laugh. And then she realized exactly whom the pair had in their sights.
Of course, the rich future head of the coven might need a little push to choose someone like Sylvan as a mate. A scholar like him might need more than those double D’s as temptation.
Diana started to feel a little better about Alec. If they felt they needed a love potion to secure him, then he must be a more discerning man than she gave him credit for.
“When did the club owner approach you, and what is his name?” she asked, moving her arms behind her back to appear less threatening.
Fiona fiddled with the large diamond pendant on the necklace she was wearing. “It was two weeks ago on Saturday, and I don’t know the club owner’s true name.”
She turned to her daughter, but Sylvan shook her head. “Everyone calls him J,” Sylvan said.
“That is all we know, I swear!” Fiona said in a rush. “We had no idea they were using children, I mean, why would they?”
Diana studied the two women intently. Her built-in lie detector wasn’t going off. These two were pawns. And she would bet good money that they had no idea which black rites would require children. They probably didn’t know much about the craft at all; they simply bought the charms and wards like the other vamps and shifters with enough money.
Diana sighed. “I’m of a mind to strip you of your power and leave you human just for your stupidity.”
Both women shrank back from her. A pale and distraught Fiona whispered, “But we didn’t know!”
“Exactly my point. Next time you traffic with witches, know who you are dealing with,” Diana said disgustedly. She turned for the door, their guard scrambling out of the way. She grabbed the handle, and then turned back. “Oh, and if I hear about either of you being in the market for another love spell, I will hunt the both of you down and strip away everything you hold dear. The coven will turn you out, and you will have to start husband-hunting all over again. . .in the human world.”
Certain she’d spelled out their worst nightmare, she left.
Diana walked back up the beach, annoyed that her lead was a lateral move. Instead of being one step closer to the circle, she had to go and question yet another intermediary.
Well, this one better know something or she was going to get angry. And they won’t like it when I get angry. Diana snorted to herself. She had to stop letting Logan talk her into watching all those terrible comic book movies.
She climbed the last sand dune before the sidewalk where she had parked her bike. Alec Broussard was standing next to it, waiting for her. Again. He was staring at the bike as she approached.
“You drive a Suzuki Hayabusa,” he said in a faraway voice.
He reached out to touch the matte black finish.
Diana quickened her step. “Hey, are those clean?” she asked, slapping his hand away from her beloved bike.
“I always wanted a bike this,” he said distantly.
“I imagine you can afford one,” she said wryly, wondering what the hell he was doing there.
“Yeah, it’s just. . .” He trailed off and gestured vaguely.
“It would mess up your hair?”
Alec broke from his bike-induced reverie and looked at her with a slight scowl. “I don’t care about my hair. It’s simply more convenient to be driven. It gives me more time to read.”
She gave him a sad little shake of her head. “God, you’re a total nerd, aren’t you?”
“No, I’m not,” he shot back through a stiff jaw before making a visible effort to relax. “Are the Corsairs still vampires?”
“Fiona and Sylvan Corsairs? Is that seriously their name? Why do all vampire names sound like they’re out of a bad regency novel?”
Alec frowned at her. It felt like being scolded by your substitute teacher. She huffed, blowing a strand of red hair out of her eyes.
“Yes, they’re fine.”
“And did they tell you where to find the witches?”
“I have a lead,” she said in an oppressive tone, trying to discourage his prying. “But you should take heart. They won’t be looking for another witch to whip up a love spell for you anytime soon.”
She climbed onto her bike and started the engine before he could ask her anything else. But the engine wasn’t loud enough to drown out the guttural groan he let out her words finally registered.
“Oh, God.”
Diana couldn’t hold back the grin that covered her face as she drove off.
11
Five hours later, Diana was back in the safe house apartment. In the end, she hadn’t had enough time to hit the club or to sneak into the Denon headquarters. Dawn was too close, and it was a long bike ride to and from the Hamptons. She should have taken the car, but she hated being surrounded by a box when she was upset. She’d had quite enough of that during her childhood.
In her mind, there was a tug along the aether. She sat cross-legged on the bed and lit the candle wick with her mind.
“Di?” Logan asked. “How did it go?”
“Another lead, but technically no closer. I have to interrogate the owner of an Underlife club next,” she said, the distaste in her voice clear.
“Which one?”
“Whore.”
“Oh, god, even I won’t go to that one,” Logan said contemptuously.
Logan and Diana were technically both young enough to enjoy clubbing every night, but Diana hated crowds and the Underlife scene. Logan did the rounds but preferred dancing in the human clubs more, and always referred to the Underlife clubs as work.
“It’s the principle of the thing,” Logan continued. “Whoever named that club should get knocked into next week.”
“Well, I may get that chance,” Diana said, tugging off her boots.
“And was loverboy there?” Logan asked.
“When did Broussard become loverboy?” Diana asked, perplexed.
“Well, it’s been a few days now, and you haven’t fried him like an egg yet. . .right? I’m right, aren’t I? Or do we need to send a delegation to his coven expressing our condolences?”
“No, not yet. But give me time,” Diana replied dryly.
“Oh, come on, I think you like him just a little bit,” Logan said suggestively before lapsing into an expectant silence.
“He’s okay,” Diana finally said grudgingly, because she would never outright lie to Logan. “For a vampire.”
“Well, look who’s making progress in the whole human interaction thing.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Diana said as she flopped onto the bed still fully clothed, “and I would like to point out that there are no humans involved.”
“Well, I’ve been doing a little digging on him,” Logan informed her. “Our dear friend, the crown prince of darkness, went through a wild period in his sixties clear on through to his early hundreds, but soon after settled down into more scholarly pursuits. He’s been making the rounds through all the ancient collections. He started by trying to divine the true origin of vampires and spent years looking all over the world tying together the threads. . .only to give up in frustration.”
D
iana smiled. Logan sounded like a teenager gossiping on the phone.
That’s because she is a teenager.
“Yeah, well that gobbledygook would drive a saint mad if he took it seriously. And he obviously got something out of it. He solved the riddle of the Daywalker. Although now he thinks it’s a big secret he has to keep. He doesn’t get the true nature of the ritual. I think he thinks anyone can do it,” Diana said, tugging off her pants with one hand.
“He told you that?” Logan asked in surprise.
“No, but it’s kind of obvious from the way he’s hiding it from the coven. He doesn’t trust his own parents.”
“He shouldn’t. They’re total narcissists,” Logan said. “Anywho, loverboy got real interested in us after this thing in Prague.”
“Yeah, he mentioned Prague,” Diana said, stretching out on the bed.
“Yes ma’am, my illustrious predecessor did a number on some black witches. Loverboy got the Elemental bug after that, and he has spent a considerable amount of time since devoted to the study and search of little old us. . .in between other supernatural studies.”
“He left that part out,” Diana said, unsure how she felt about this new information.
“Oh, lots of scholars of the supernatural get the bug,” Logan dismissed. “Some chase us around for a time, but they all give up eventually. Not the healthiest of pastimes, but Alec seems all right to me. He’s not a fanatic or anything. Just someone in search of answers. Like a lot of people. You should give him a chance.”
Diana frowned. “To do what exactly?”
“Oh, I think you know,” Logan said coyly. “But back to the business at hand. What are you going to do now?”
“I’ve been putting off the Denon Corporation recon for too long, but my nights are going to be full of this circle investigation for the near future. I need an in during the daytime. I’ve been thinking of arranging for a little sick leave for one of the head honcho’s secretaries. What do think would be a good way to go about that?”
Logan was good at the more subtle and devious ways of getting things done. Gia and Serin weren’t nearly as talented at that sort of thing. They were a little too honorable and set in their ways. Logan, on the other hand, was a devilish mastermind.
“Oh, I have an idea!” she said. “Okay here’s what you do. . .”
* * *
Logan really was an evil genius.
It’s a good thing she uses her powers for good, Diana reflected as she sat in the office of one of the senior VP’s.
She had to wait until lunchtime to put her plan into effect, but once she had, infiltrating the upper echelons of the Denon headquarters was child’s play. She felt a little bad about slipping the stomach irritant into the secretary’s food, but not enough to find another way. It would only last a few hours, in any case. The woman would be fine tomorrow.
If Diana needed to get into Denon again, she would find another way. She always did. In the meantime, her in was as a temp for the secretary. It wasn’t that hard. Her typing skills were good enough to pass muster, but she hated the clothes. The skirt of her wool suit was itchy, and the heels were killing her.
Gritting her teeth, she carried on while the senior personnel director explained the computer and gave her an account with limited access to the company’s central server. In no time, she would soon expand that limited access using one of Gia’s computer tricks.
Diana settled into her emergency temp position with ease. She had learned how to be a chameleon early on in her childhood while in foster care, although she had failed to fit in towards the end.
“Miss Hope,” the incredibly officious voice of Keith McMillan came from behind her. “I’ll need you to type these up before three,” he said, dropping a pile of letters on her desk.
Looking up at McMillan’s round pudgy face, Diana faked a smile. She had hated him on sight. And with good reason.
Yup, this one is a definite suspect. Her instincts were all at attention. Unfortunately, her instincts weren’t enough to justify a fireball. Not even a little one.
“No problem, Mister McMillan. Will you need any dictation for the meeting Missus Ford mentioned?”
“No,” he said abruptly and walked straight back into his office.
Okay. Maybe she should pay extra close attention to this meeting. It might be worth her while to plant a listening stone in the conference room. Like in a potted plant or something. Didn’t big corporations had those sitting around everywhere?
A quick trip to the bathroom, conveniently located past the conference room, confirmed the sad lack of a potted plant. A quick crawl through the ventilation vents would have to do if they were large enough.
It was too bad she couldn’t use her power the same way Logan could use air to position the stone. People would freak out if they smelled fire and the whole place would evacuate if she tried it.
Disgruntled, she sighed over the limitations of her craft and went to go type the letters.
A few minutes before the meeting started, Diana had stripped off her skirt and was crawling through the dusty air vents leading to the conference room. The spelled stone she carried in her hand would record all sound in the conference until it was retrieved. She just had to get it in place without alerting anyone to her presence.
Ahead the vent got very narrow at the turn. Twisting like a pretzel, she shimmied past the constriction. Slipping the stone in place, she crawled back to the bathroom. After making sure no one was around, she dropped down into the stall where she’d hidden her skirt. Dusting off her tights she pulled on the hated piece of clothing once again.
Skirt surreptitiously twisted back into place, she went back to her temporary desk, deciding to take advantage of the meeting to dig into the mainframe computer while all of the senior heads were busy. They had been joined by a small group of men who had flown specifically for the meeting. All were definitely cut from the same cloth as McMillan.
And not a single secretary to take notes. She didn’t know much about corporate practices, so maybe that wasn’t atypical. The stone would make sure she didn’t miss anything. But it definitely wasn’t as satisfying as setting fire to the place. Sighing, Diana began her computer search of the archives.
An hour later, she was ready to kick the computer into the wall. There was a ton of information, layers and layers of bureaucracy. Some of it might well be evidence, but the sheer volume was daunting.
Maybe access from her terminal wasn’t what she needed. She was not very good at digging through piles of information. Maybe she could ask Gia to work up a little short cut. Something like a listening stone but for the computer mainframe. It would certainly make her job easier.
Diana finished her day without making any serious inroads in the search. McMillan certainly kept his secretaries busy. Even the temps not trusted with full access were run ragged. But at least she managed to finish the workday without going thermonuclear on anyone.
Feet aching from the heels she detested, Diana walked out of the elevator and into the lobby only to find Alec Brossard waiting for her.
Damn it to hell. How does he do that?
12
“Hello sweetheart,” Alec said with a wide grin as he came up to give her a peck on the forehead, the part he could most easily reach given the difference in their heights.
He winked at the receptionist, who was staring at him almost open-mouthed.
For Pete’s sake. The woman was at least twenty years older than Alec appeared. Did she have to gawk that way?
“I’ve made dinner reservations, darling,” Alec continued, playing the affectionate boyfriend to the hilt.
Deciding to avoid a scene, Diana let him sweep out the door and toward a luxury car where a burly driver was waiting. She almost waved to the servant when closer examination revealed it wasn’t Daniel, but a look-alike. The original must still be taking care of Pedro.
She paused short of the car, prepared to dig in her heels. She wasn’t prepared to answer a
ny questions about her other investigation. Knowing Alec, he’d volunteer to help with that, too.
“Oh, come on,” he coaxed when she didn’t get into the waiting car, “You’ve got to eat. And I wanted to give you an update on Pedro.”
She wanted to ask him how he had tracked her down but didn’t want to let on that he’d surprised her. And she would eat with him, but only because she was hungry. . .
Sitting down at the Ten Tables near Harvard Square, Diana fidgeted in her seat. Being driven by a private chauffeur to an exclusive restaurant was a surreal experience. She didn’t really go out to eat in restaurants. None of the nice ones anyway. She was a diner kind of girl.
A well-dressed waiter handed her a menu before slipping away to get the wine Alec requested. From the waiter’s impressed reaction, he’d ordered an excellent vintage of something pricy.
“So, what has the Denon Corporation done to attract the wrath of an Elemental?” he asked without preamble.
“The wrath of the Mother,” Diana corrected. “I am merely her servant.”
Alec paused, and he gave her a little smile that she found unnerving. “Oh, I think a little of your wrath is mixed in there a little bit,” he said. “I’m sorry for surprising you. I saw you going inside at lunchtime and got curious.”
Diana’s internal sensor buzzed a high alert. “I know you’re lying. How did you track me?” she asked bluntly, wondering if she would have to shift to a secondary safe house.
If Alec had found out where she’d been staying, she would have to. Even if she didn’t find him to be much of a threat, she simply couldn’t afford to leave her sisters exposed.
“I got lucky,” he insisted. “I went to check on Pedro earlier and was thinking of you and the situation. Then I saw you in town while I was running an errand.”
Mostly true. But Diana could tell he was still holding something back. She pursed her lips, trying to decide exactly how upset she should be.
“I didn’t realize your kind targeted corporations for reprisal, but it makes perfect sense,” he continued, interrupting her train of thought. “They certainly have a lot of power these days with little accountability. But they don’t have a lot of magic to strip, I’m guessing. Do you simply kill the wrongdoers?” he asked while pouring her a generous amount of wine.
Fire: The Elementals Book One Page 8