Janka sat down on the rocker.
“How are you feeling? The drink Lilly gave you should make you feel better.”
Marek shifted to rise and lean on his forearm.
“Not fully yet.” His voice was raspy and his throat still felt dry as if it had never felt the coolness of water.
“You and Lia have been away for three days.”
“Three days,” he exclaimed dazed. He tried rising but landed on his ass. He crisscrossed his legs, gratefully accepting another mug of Lilly’s concoction. Rosemary? He thought it wise not to question. “I didn’t think it would take that long.”
“You didn’t have the information you sought.” Janka shrugged. “Until that time, you’d have to stay in that altered state. I take it you got your answers.”
“In a way.” Marek let out a long drawn out breath before looking at his sister. “Why isn’t she waking?”
Janka’s rocking chair creaked when she moved to stoke the burning embers in the hearth “She will in time. I want to know what happened.”
Marek leaned back against the sofa, an arm resting on his bent knee.
“We found ourselves inside a hotel room. I don’t know which hotel it was but it was an unusual place because there were supernatural beings there.”
“Go on.” Janka used her momentum to move the rocking chair while taking her own cup of tea from the side table.
“I asked the front desk where we were and why we were there.”
“And?”
“They said because we were paranormal beings ourselves. Human but supernatural nonetheless.” Marek ventured slowly looking up at the mother and daughter. “We wouldn’t have been allowed into the hotel hadn’t it been for our fireblood.” He stopped when Lia stirred but she turned to her side and continued to sleep.
“Let her be.” There was a smile in Janka’s kind voice. “She is out of the dream state but it must have exhausted her.”
“I’m awake, Janka. Thank you.” Lia’s voice drifted still thick with sleep. “I’ll be up soon, just feeling a bit dizzy. And…shit…ffrree…zing!”
Marek crawled on his knees to take the folded throw Janka gave him and threw it over his sister.
“Tha...ank you, brà...th...air,” Lia chattered. “Do...don’t ask me where I got that. I onnn…ly know it…wwwa...aas the rrright…word to uuu…use.”
“Drink this.” Lilly did the same to Lia as she did to Marek. Lia’s teeth chattered once more against the rim of the cup but she continued drinking. Soon the shivers subsided with an occasional jerk. She sighed, thanking Lilly before lying down again.
“She has been throwing these words left and right since we were young.” Marek explained.
“I’m still young. You’re ancient.” Lia sounded relieved but exhausted. She turned to her brother, her eyes lighting up once more with mischief.
Janka chortled. Marek felt the tingling embarrassment sweep the back of his neck and across his face.
“Loosen up, bro,” Lia chided. “God, my head feels like there’s a woolly mammoth enclave inside.” She eased herself up to a sitting position beside her brother.
“Anyway.” Marek turned to Janka. “We went to the hotel’s restaurant to grab a bite to eat. The place was filling up but there was a woman there. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.” He stared into space before guilt shot through him when he suddenly thought of Gwen. Marek shook his head to clear his mind. “She was the only one in her booth so we joined her.”
“Did she offer you to join her willingly?” Janka’s brows rose over her eyes.
Lines ploughed through Marek’s forehead. “There’s something you’re not telling us.”
“It’s your journey,” she replied smoothly. “It’s not for me to interfere. My role was to only bring you and Lia to a place where you could find the answers you were looking for. I have no control over where that place is going to be.”
“My brother is being an ass.” Lia yawned, a perfectly formed brow arched over her eyes, amused and challenging her brother to refute what she said.
“Lia…” he warned.
“It’s true.” She defended. “Granted we needed a table, my brother came on too strong to Adara until Luke joined us.”
It was Janka’s turn to look confused.
“Adara Kerslake and Luke Griffiths,” Lia informed her. “The Cynn Cruors.”
Janka’s face cleared as her eyes brimmed with interest. “I see.”
“You’ve heard of them,” Marek stated more than questioned.
“Yes, but tell me what you discovered first. Then I’ll tell you what I know.”
Marek let loose a long drawn out breath. Janka Saint Cyr was a powerful witch and it wouldn’t bode well for him and Lia to antagonize her. He had enough of clan knowledge to know that alchemy and magick had been used to infuse their blood with a deadly yet healing fire.
“I didn’t realize that we had stumbled on people who could help us find more firebinders.”
“But when Luke arrived at the table,” Lia continued. “My brother, in his infinite arrogance insulted them both.”
Lilly looked anywhere but at them, her cheeks reddening. Janka shook her head tutting. Marek scowled at his sister.
“I was wrong,” he grudgingly admitted before he continued where Lia left off. “That was when we found out that one of the Cynn Cruors had a firebinder for a mate. Faith Hannah.”
Janka leaned back, the rocking chair creaking once more as it rolled over the floor. Lilly threw open the windows allowing the evening breeze smelling of the flowers in the garden to cool the room. “How do you find her?”
Marek shook his head staring at the dying embers in the hearth. “Luke refused to tell me. I got angry but if I were in his shoes, I’d have done the same. I had no choice but to tell him to warn this Faith Hannah of the threat against firebinders.” He rolled his shoulders to ease the tension that bunched up there. He pinned Janka with his stare. “Now that I’ve told you what happened, tell me about the Cynn Cruors.”
Marek and Lia left Janka’s home deep in thought. They had arrived in Janka’s house at dusk three days ago. Now, they left under the cover of night and houses festooned with fairy lights surrounding them. The festivities of the holiday season were gearing up for the New Year and they had missed Christmas. He and Lia had stopped celebrating that special time of the year after their parents died. It just brought back too many happy memories better left behind and a reality check of who and what they were.
“I can’t believe she already met one of the Cynn Cruors.” Lia’s voice was filled with amazement. She stared at the cracked sidewalk, shaking her head. “Who would think that our lives would be so intertwined?”
“I know,” Marek murmured thoughtfully. “Next thing to do is to prepare to leave for the England.”
“Oh, Marek.” Lia sighed rolling her eyes. “Can’t we just stop for one bit? I feel like we’re on a merry-go-round and not getting off!”
“This can’t wait, Lia.”
“I know and I understand that but please! Lighten up!” She huffed then her face cleared as she gave her brother a once-over. “Oh, I know what you need. You need a woman.”
Gwen’s face suddenly flashed before his eyes. A pissed off but beautiful woman whom he’d have to make amends to. He had wanted to stay but had been pressed for time. No one made Janka Saint Cyr wait.
It would have been so easy to walk away from Gwen. What was wrong with heavy petting? They both enjoyed it. They were not a couple. His sister never stopped reminding him that he was an arrogant jerk.
What did it matter to him what Gwen thought?
“Where are you headed off to?” Marek asked instead giving Lia the same appraisal. “It was weird seeing you with short hair.”
Lia smiled, a dimple indenting her left cheek. “Thought I’d give it a try. Anything was possible where we were. I’m heading off to meet Veronica and grab a bite to eat. After three days without food, I am going t
o be blown by the wind.”
“We need to plan,” Marek said, walking towards his bike to sit astride it while Lia followed in his wake. “We have to find the rest of the firebinders to keep the line alive.”
“Bro,” she huffed in exasperation, her hip cocked and arms on her waist. “How do you propose we find them? Knock on all the doors of merry ‘ol England and ask, any chance you’ve got fire running through your veins? That’s a guaranteed one way ticket to the crazy house or a prison cell.”
A muscled ticked on Marek’s jaw. He started the engine, the rumble adding to the sounds of the night. “I’ll find a way.”
“Fine,” she snapped, her own eyes flashing with blue green fire. “But it doesn’t mean we can’t live and party.”
“Lia—”
“Tighten the noose around my neck, brother, and I will leave. You will never see me again.”
“Don’t threaten me.” The heat of his blood rose to Marek’s eyes.
“Go on and make your eyes go red until people think they’re sore.” Lia’s snide tone indicated her refusal to back down. “You know I will do it. Then you’ll have to find me and Faith Hannah. I’m sure you’ll be cool with that.”
Marek’s lips thinned and his eyes narrowed in irritation. He took a deep long breath and exhaled noisily. His sister was right, he was getting to be too controlling. He himself didn’t like it. “Be home by eleven.”
Lia’s rebellious gaze immediately changed. She ran and flung herself into her surprised brother’s arms. “Thank you!” She pulled back, walking away. “See you at eleven tomorrow!”
“I meant eleven tonight! Jesus, Lia!” Marek wanted to pull his hair out of his scalp but revved the accelerator instead by mistake. He let go.
Did their parents have this much trouble with his sister?
Lia wagged her finger. “A firebinder’s word is his oath. You always told me that.”
“I meant tonight.” He gritted.
“The operative word being ‘tonight’. Chill out, bro! We’re in New Orleans. Nothing will happen to me.” She jauntily walked towards her Corvette.
Marek swore under his breath as Lia roared away from the street. He fished his phone out of his pocket.
“Bannach, you just had to call at this moment.” The strained voice sighed. In the background, Marek heard laughter and voices. Despite his exasperation with Lia, his mouth twitched and his face relaxed.
“I need another favour, Rogue.”
“You’re sister’s cramping my style,” he said with a low growl.
“Not for long. We’ll be flying to England soon.”
“England?” Rogue said in surprise. “Why?”
“Long story, man. Lia’s meeting up with Veronica. I need someone to keep an eye on her.”
“What’s with England?”
Marek owed his friend an answer.
“Firebinders.”
****
Bourbon Street in the French Quarter still had people celebrating after Christmas Day. Cars slowed to a crawl to allow revellers illuminated by the headlights to cross the street. On the second floor of the Bourbon Bandstand, twenty somethings enjoyed their liquor, looking down at the street like gods observing the human rat race, suspending their beer blessings on unsuspecting souls. The blue lights on the ground floor made it look like a dark sanctuary. The light fittings in between the upper floor’s windows illuminated the brick wall so reminiscent of New Orleans architecture.
It hadn’t been like that when Marek was born.
Back in the 1800s it had been Marc le Chevalier’s house, their family doctor. But Dr. le Chevalier had no heirs so when he died, the placed changed hands several times and at one time was abandoned during the Civil War. When New Orleans was captured by the Union in 1862, Marek’s family bought it. Atticus Bannach, made it into a restaurant. Marek turned it into a ‘to die for’ club.
He strode straight up to the door of Opals, the club and resto, moving ahead of the waiting line much to the grumbling of those waiting.
“Good to see you, Tiny!” Marek shouted and smiled widely shaking the huge bouncer’s hand.
“Marek!” Tiny pulled him into a man hug. Marek struggled to breathe, grunting within Tiny’s man hug that was strong enough to break a python’s spine. His blue eyes misted. “The missus thanks you for helping us out, man. Words cannot…shit, man. No words…I have no words.”
“Anytime.” Marek grinned his heart lightening, his lungs gulping huge pockets of air. This was the one thing he felt good about his life—siphoning the cancer out of Tiny’s son. But Tiny didn’t know. Instead Marek visited Tiny’s family periodically joining them for picnics or barbecues where he held Raymond’s hand. He’d take the cancer into himself before burying his hand in the ground after both Tiny and his wife brought Raymond back into the house to rest. If Marek had his way, he’d remove the cancer in one go, but as much as he cared for Tiny and his family, the bouncer couldn’t keep secrets. Marek couldn’t risk Tiny knowing.
“Hank is arriving in about thirty minutes,” Marek said loudly. “Can you make sure he gets in?”
The shock on Tiny’s face was comical. “You had to ask me that? You saved my son’s life, for crying out loud! What’s one guy passing through? And this is your place, man! Why ask my permission?”
“Habit.” Marek laughed. “Thanks.” He slapped Tiny’s large bicep like he was punishing his hand against a boulder. The vibration went right up his shoulder and Marek could swear he heard it twang against his bone.
Music thumped underneath his feet mixing with the conversations of patrons, voices getting louder the more people drank. There was still a respectably huge crowd inside the club. People crowded the bar to order drinks. Waitresses held trays of drinks aloft before expertly placing them on tall tables or booths. Men and women gyrated on the dance floor. Some couples made out in cubicles or against the wall. Marek continued towards the stairs. As long as they were consenting adults and paid for their drinks and grub and not deal drugs, Opals patrons could do as they pleased.
The smell of perfume and cologne mixed with sweat rose with the air con and Marek saw a drug exchange going down. His eyes narrowed etching the face of the pusher into his memory.
So much for hoping that didn’t happen in his club.
He went up to the second floor, phone by his ear. What did he care about druggies and girls getting nookied?
He cared. A lot. The girl looked just as old as Lia. That crap was not going down in his club.
Marek entered one of the private rooms overlooking the dance floor. He smirked the minute he saw Tiny barrel his way through the crowd, uncaring about the gripes that went his way as he reached the pusher and hauled him out of the club. One of the female bouncers went to the girl who had bought the drugs taking her to a room. The drugs would be confiscated and the girl given a verbal warning before letting her back to the floor.
His stomach growled reminding him he hadn’t eaten.
He had just finished ordering when the door opened and Hank Heaton entered.
“Dude, of all the placed we had to meet, you chose your eardrum busting club.” Hank scowled. Tall, broad shouldered with the body of someone used to a lot of exercise, he ran his hand across his nearly shorn head.
“I ordered us food, you’re welcome.” Marek’s mouth quirked.
Hank puffed out a breath and sat down, shedding off his army surplus jacket before putting his phone on the low table.
“Any news?” Marek asked.
“None,” Hank admitted. “I’ve asked my uncle in England for help. See if he knows of any firebinders.”
Marek’s lips flattened. Hank knew that he, Lia, and Rogue were firebinders because he was the only private investigator Marek knew who dealt with the paranormal. Hank took care of the American operations of Heaton Investigations. His uncle, Henry Heaton started the business across the pond.
Marek sat down and rested his arms along the lounge seat’s backrest. He leaned his
head back looking up at the ceiling and the old chandelier. Part of the paint on the corner of the ceiling was peeling and there was discoloration on the wall. He could still smell the stale smoke from the previous occupants. He’d have a word with the manager. Right now, he was spent, he was hungry, and he was down to his last card.
Gwen.
“I might have a lead you can look into,” he said, still looking perusing what was above him.
Hank’s hazel eyes lit up in interest. “Really? Where’d you get it from?”
“When Lia and I were in an altered state.”
“You mean when you were stoned out of your mind,” Hank said with a wry grin.
Marek gave a rueful smile. “Something like that.”
He told Hank about his visit to Janka’s and meeting Luke Griffiths and Adara Kerslake.
“So what do you want me to do?”
“Find the Cynn Cruors.”
“Oh.”
Hank Heaton’s face became a blank canvas. Marek’s brow puckered. Did his friend just close down?
“You’re hiding something.”
Hank looked up his eyes mirroring his confusion. “Like what?”
“Never mind.” Marek waved his hand. “Can you help me find them? A firebinder is married to one of the Cynn Cruors. Her name is Faith Hannah. Thing is I don’t know where to look for her if Lia and I go to England.”
Hank grabbed his phone and started scrolling through.
“Heaton, are you even listening?”
“What? Yeah, yeah. I’m listening. Let me see what I can find out.”
Marek narrowed his gaze. “You know something, don’t you?” He puffed out a breath. “The Cynn Cruors, they’re real. What gives, man? Why not just spill it out?”
Hank was not intimidated. “Marek, if you’ve been in this business dealing with more than human beings not keeping my mouth shut, you think I’d live this long?”
“You’ve still not answered my question.”
Firebinders: Marek (The Firebinders Book 1) Page 11