“I assume he knew Princess Amelie was a vampire, yes?” She looked at Annie for conformation.
“Yes. He’s known since she first sought him out,” Annie replied sheepishly. Though she knew asking for assistance was a necessity, she was embarrassed by having to do so. Her cheeks burned red as if ashamed by the need.
“Okay, they are secure. Follow me.”
As with most magical security locks, Delphine placed her hand against the hole in the lock and shot a spell inside. The doors slid open revealing a large work area, filled with rows and rows of cubicles. The outer edges of the massive room contained offices with closed doors.
Though this building resided underground, it looked much like the inside of their Wizard Hall, with neatly ordered cubicles and the sounds of computers, fax machines, and printers whirling and buzzing. And just like Wizard Hall America, papers and objects flew through the air as they were summoned or repelled as necessary.
Annie and Spencer pushed Sturtagaard and Louis through the maze of cubicles following Delphine toward the Wizard Guard department. The cubicles were stuffed full of magical objects and ancient tomes; shelves were piled high with herbs, crystals, and cauldrons. Delphine stopped at a large cubicle that reminded Annie of Milo’s office back home. It was so packed with piles of stuff and more stuff, leaving very little room to move.
The security officer knocked on the wall that held a name plate for Fabien Arnoult. A tall man with sandy brown hair and ice blue eyes glanced up at Delphine and flashed a bright white smile.
“Excuse me, Fabien. Here are the Americans and their guests,” Delphine said.
“Ah yes. Our American friends. Welcome. Please, sit. I am Fabien Arnoult, Wizard Guard manager. Thank you Delphine.”
“If you need anything, please call. Annie, Spencer.” She nodded before heading back to her post, guarding the door.
Annie and Spencer sat in the waiting chairs while Fabien observed their companions carefully. “And you have brought, I see, Sturtagaard. Yes, we are well familiar with the vampire. And the other, I do not know.” He smiled warmly and sat back down.
“Louis Van Alton. He was Princess Amelie’s traveling companion until yesterday,” Annie explained.
He raised his eye brows in response. “I see. And you are chasing the princess. Your manager, Milo Rawley, he and I discussed this in depth.” Fabien offered a wide smile as if this were a social call.
Annie observed him in response. He was impeccably dressed. His jacket closed with a brass button, and his lapel was adorned with exact same pin that Delphine wore: small and silver, etched with the triangle and wand at the center, with FWG for French Wizard Guard engraved around the edges.
I wonder what that pin is for?
“Unfortunately we’ve come across the princess several times. She’s young, she’s quick, and we think she has some magical assistance to aid her escapes. That is why we are here. We need your help to take her down,” Annie said after pulling her attention away from the pin. And yet her eyes kept wandering back to it.
It’s so attention grabbing.
“Yes. That is the case with new vampires. They are slippery creatures. Often difficult to catch. May I ask you a question?”
“Of course.” Annie recognized his accusatory gaze and knew what he’d be asking her. She summoned the article and let it rest in her lap.
“How long have you known about Princess Amelie still being alive? I should think that would be a serious threat to us all, no?” Fabien asked. Annie slid the envelope, still in its original packaging, across several piles of books for Fabien to see. He looked at the Paris postmark. “This is from last week. Not long I see. You received it when?”
“Four days ago,” Annie replied.
He pulled out the French newspaper. His eyebrows rose in surprise as he noted the paper and the prominent picture with Amelie’s face circled. “I apologize,” he said thoughtfully. “She’s been right under our noses.”
“We blame no one but ourselves. She was our responsibility. I examined her myself. And though there was a death jinx, I did check for vampirism in the normal locations—wrists, neck, knees—and observed nothing,” Annie said.
“Who sent this to you?” He placed the article back in the envelope and handed it back to her.
“Sturtagaard.” Spencer sneered.
“Ah. But of course he did. Where have you seen her?” Fabien asked.
Annie explained the events that took place in Dinan, including the explosion, Amborix and the queen of Amborix, and the three dead Van Alton family members in Platja d’Aro.
“And are you certain the Dinan police have finished with you?”
“No. Most certainly not. As soon as word comes out about the Van Alton murders, I’m sure they’ll be back,” Spencer said.
Fabien opened a file, glanced at the contents inside and looked back to Annie and Spencer.
“I appreciate you coming to us with this rather than bringing in your own people. Etiquette is so hard to find now these days,” Fabien said as if he longed for a simpler time.
We should have brought our team in. Annie sighed softly.
“We know this area.” Fabien continued to speak in a condescending tone as if Annie and Spencer were stepping on the toes of the French Wizard Guard. They understood the boundaries between the Wizard Guard units. Staking a vampire was one thing, but keeping secret the murder of several nonmagicals crossed that line of proper protocol.
“We must send someone to Platja d’Aro. We must clean that mess before it gets out.” He exhaled deeply at the inconvenience.
Fabien dialed his phone, speaking in rapid French. Before he had a chance to hang up the phone, a female wizard guard, short like Annie and also with long curly brown hair, teleported to the cubicle. She gracefully entered and stood beside the desk, offering the visitors a quick crack of a smile that was neither friendly or angry. Annie smiled in return, assuming this would be the officer meant to clean up the mess. She observed the girl carefully almost as an adversary. She first noted the same pin on her lapel, but secondly, she couldn’t help but notice that when the girl tensed when she saw Louis; her palms balled into tight fists before she relaxed and let go.
She knows him? Woman with brown hair?
“Marielle, this is Annie and Spencer, our American counterparts. They brought along the vampire Sturtagaard and a nonmagical, and they might be in trouble.”
For ease, Fabien explained to Marielle in French. Though Annie didn’t understand the conversation, she was well aware of their body language and tone.
He thinks we screwed up.
Marielle nodded obediently, glanced at the visitors with caution and again directed a long gaze at Louis before turning her attention back to her instructions.
“I have my team available. We will go to the house and deal with the bodies.” She nodded once to Fabien and bowed to Annie and Spencer before leaving the cubicle; her last look was on Louis. Annie and Spencer exchanged glances.
“If the bodies have already been discovered, we take care of memory modification,” he said and clapped his hands together. Turning in his chair, he cleared his desk and unfurled a map of France.
“Let us see here.” He circled the town of Dinan and the location of the Van Alton mansion, the seaside cottage in Platja d’Aro, as well as Paris, where the princess was first discovered. “Now you said she had gone to the Amborix castle. Your Grand Marksman, he’s managed to contact the Amborix Witches Council then?” Fabien unfurled another map of Amborix and circled the location of the castle.
Annie scrolled through her texts. “Yes. The Amborix Wizard Guard has briefed them; they’ve been on the phone with Ryan Connelly. They’re fully aware of the situation and are dealing with the death of the queen.” Annie’s hands shook.
How did this get so out of control?
She scrolled through her email, assessing the content for new material. “There’s nothing new as of yet. We do appreciate your help with the princes
s. She’s been slippery, and we simply need to deal with her. The rest of this mess, we’ll clean up.”
Fabien glanced at his counterparts, resting his chin in his hands. “I should think you’ve handled it enough. We can take it from here. Stake the princess. Handle any of the fallout.”
Annie balled her hand into a tightly wound fist and bit her tongue as to not speak without thinking. Sturtagaard snickered behind her.
“I appreciate your willingness to help,” she started cautiously. “But the murder of the princess was my case and it still is.” She paused for a moment, glared at Sturtagaard before beginning again. “What we are asking of you is your help in capturing and killing the vampire formerly known as Princess Amelie Maxillian of Amborix. We require nothing else from you, and we will be with you in this mission.” She summoned the written request and handed the scroll to Fabien. While he read the carefully worded request, she took a deep breath, dispelling some of her wayward energy. “If you need further explanation please contact Milo Rawley to discuss.”
She and Spencer exchanged glances both aware that bringing in the French Wizard Guard may not have been the smartest idea.
I should have brought in my own team, consequences or not.
The Wizard Guard units all over the world had no problem working with each other until someone issued anything that remotely seemed like an order to the host country’s Wizard Guard. Annie knew this would not go over well.
Amborix is not their issue.
“So you are issuing orders in France then, eh?” Fabien countered.
“We’ll continue to deal with the Amborix Witches Council, the royal family, and the government of Amborix,” Spencer reiterated.
“But Amelie is in France,” Fabien reminded them.
“We’re here as a courtesy,” Annie said. “We need the manpower to help us find and kill Amelie. That is what we need in this country. Don’t make this a pissing contest.” She had the backing of the American Wizard Council, which had been the largest in the world for many centuries. Somehow that gave Annie a sense that the American Wizard Council was indeed bullying the smaller French unit.
But Amborix isn’t an issue for France to deal with, she thought, justifying her actions.
Fabien puffed up his chest. “I’ll contact the Wizard Guard of Amborix for, shall we say, clarification. We will direct all efforts from here. And let you join us.”
“First, if you do that, we will contact our Wizard Council of which I am a member. We’re here because nothing in Amelie’s autopsy jumped out at me to think she was killed with anything other than the murder curse. I observed no track marks on her wrists, feet, knees, or neck. That is our mistake, and it is our responsibility to fix. Do not make this more difficult than it already is. She’s out loose and killing as far as we know. Three people were brutally murdered in France. I have the bodies of two more we found in her coffin in Amborix. That doesn’t take into consideration countless victims for food. Please help us stop her.”
Behind her Sturtagaard grunted. The three wizard guards turned toward him. “Wanna go home, jackass, keep inserting those comments,” Annie warned.
This made Fabien crack a smile, a small one. His eyes grew less hostile as he sat back in his chair. “What can we do to help you?” he asked, almost conceding.
Annie returned to the map of France and stared at the circled locations where Amelie had been. “Louis, come here, please.” She handed him a red pen. “Circle all family locations.” He bent over the map, carefully drawing rings around the family holdings throughout France. His handcuffs jingled as he reached across the map.
“Can you run a report on any Van Alton family holdings in France? We should verify these locations and see if there are any others that Louis may not be aware of. Actually, when you run that report, we should have a list of all Amborix royal family residences as well. Any other thoughts, Sturtagaard?”
The vampire strolled over, his neck stiff in the collar. When he bent over the map, he folded his tall lean body from the waist for a better look.
“As a new vampire, she has not totally adapted to hiding in crappy places. I expect this is a good place to start. Might you have anything from Amelie to scry for her?” He stood back up.
Annie summoned the inside lining of Amelie’s coffin. “I can scry, but we’ll need that list of homes,” she said.
Fabien pursed his lips. “I’m sorry, but we don’t have the ability to pull what you want.”
“No computer unit, telecommunications?” Annie asked.
“No, I am sorry,” Fabien said with a shake of his head. “We are mostly magical here. No unit as you describe. I see you utilize other means to find what you want. I fear we might be of no use to you at all.” His eyes diverted as he glanced at his messy desk. “You will need your Wizard Hall for help, I’m afraid.”
Annie thought he might be actually sorry that they wouldn’t be able to help as completely as Annie and Spencer would need. “We still need your assistance. Believe me. We’ve been with her twice already, and she’s managed to escape. She beat us to the triple murder. We need help. But I think we’ll take a bit of the lead and get moving on locations.”
Fabien sighed. “Yes. I believe we are not up to your standards.” He offered a wan, tired smile. “But we will assist with what you need. Can I pull a team together for you?”
“Trackers would be great. Skilled vampire fighters would also be helpful.” Annie turned to Sturtagaard. “How familiar are you with vampire locations in France?”
“Enough. I can give you possible locations. Scry for her. See if she appears,” Fabian suggested.
Annie held the lining in her palm, wrapped the scrying crystal around her balled fist, and let it swing wildly. She moved the contraption across the map from northern France to southern France. Amelie wasn’t there.
She summoned a map of Amborix and started the process again. Just as it did with France, the scrying crystal hung in her hand and swayed without dropping on a location.
“Any other locations outside of France that your family owned, Louis?” Annie asked. His jaw hung open in surprise as she summoned another map. It materialized before them.
He shook his head.
“Okay. Next plan,” Annie said as she looked at Spencer who nodded in agreement though they hadn’t said a word between them. Annie placed a call.
“Hey, Bucky, it’s Annie.”
“Annie Pearce, how’s the vampire hunt going?”
She explained briefly the finding of the princess and the subsequent losing of the princess. “So can you pull up anything on the properties owned by the Van Alton family, past and present, as well as the royal family of Amborix? I have a feeling she might go to family homes, older, run-down, abandoned.”
“No problem, Annie. Milo said you’re the priority. Give me a half hour,” he said.
“Thanks, Bucky.”
“Okay?” Spencer asked. Annie nodded and surreptitiously pointed a finger toward Fabien, who was on a French phone call. Spencer shrugged. Louis had a smile on his face.
“He doesn’t like us much, does he?” Annie asked him.
“Not so much,” Louis responded. “He thinks you are, shall I say, pretentious.” He raised his eyebrows. Annie shrugged.
When Fabien finished with his conversation, he glanced at Annie with a sheepish grin. “I will have two trackers. When you find the princess, you will have access to whomever you need.”
“Do you have a conference room?”
“Follow me.”
Chapter 19
Marielle Beauchamp slithered into Platje d’Aro across the sea. The house was as Annie from America had described it, except the house had been blanketed now in darkness and the stench of death found its way throughout the old home.
“Oh my goodness,” Marielle cried. She covered her nose and mouth, and her face grew pale.
“This vampire sends a message,” Roland, her partner, said as he entered the room and unfurled the f
irst body bag.
Marielle assisted lifting the Van Alton victim into the bag, stretching it around the slight man, also named Louis Van Alton.
“This must be that other Louis Van Alton’s uncle,” Marielle suggested. Roland simply nodded.
“Did they check for vampirism?” Roland asked as they laid the man inside.
“Most likely not. They missed the princess. I don’t trust them,” Marielle said. She took out her holy water and let it drip on the man’s face. He lay there, still dead.
She zipped up the plastic bag before moving on to his wife, Marguerite. Smaller and more petite, she fit easily into the bag. Again they dropped holy water on exposed skin before securing her inside, leaving the final victim, —a young girl of twelve years old, Elizabeth Van Alton.
“So young,” Marielle said, dropping holy water on the girl before closing up the last zipper.
“The Americans should have called us first, no?” Roland asked.
“I suppose it wouldn’t have mattered. The vampire was too fast, and we’re too slow,” she commented as they lay the last body near the door, the three bags laid out in a neat row.
“How is that even possible? She must have had help,” he suggested. Marielle shrugged.
They surveyed the rest of the room, examining the dark bloodstains across the large Aubusson rug that covered the majority of the floor.
“I don’t think a spell can remove that,” Roland surmised.
“No. I think we shrink it and burn it back at the office,” Marielle said. She knelt beside the edge of the finely crafted rug. Her hand grazed the strong edge; the spell shrunk inward, until all that was left was a tiny square. She placed it in a plastic bag and shoved it in a field pack.
Marielle returned a silk-covered chair upright and examined the fabric for blood or unnatural rips in the material. Roland examined the floor for blood stains.
With nothing else out of the ordinary, they moved on to the bed that had been torn apart.
“How did the vampire subdue all three of them to kill them like this?” Roland asked.
Wizard War Page 18