Was this meant to be Jordan’s get-out-of-jail-free card? If so, he shouldn’t have left it out where it was so easy to recover.
“It was deadweight. It doesn’t work.” Scowling, Jordan took a swig of the bottle. He wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his silk robe before spitting on the floor. “It’s just a chunk of crystal. I shouldn’t have bothered taking it.”
Serin inclined her head, acknowledging the fact he wasn’t bothering with pointless denials. She held the elephant higher. The crystal grew clearer, lighting up like a beacon from within. “Or you just didn’t try hard enough to master it.”
Jordan huffed, looking down at the floor. “Of course,” he muttered.
Serin put the crystal elephant down, continuing her circuit of the room, her fingers running over the objects that weren’t visibly filthy.
She wiped her palms on her pants and waved, the gesture encompassing the room. “When I realized you were alive, I didn’t expect you to be living like this, hiding like a coward.”
Jordan rubbed his red eyes. “Did you miss me?”
Serin stopped a few yards away, her hands at her sides. “No.”
Laughing, he took another drink. “That’s my lovely bride. Honest to a fault.”
She glanced at Romero. Daniel’s lips were curled in disdain.
Something was off. When the others had suggested Jordan was the mastermind behind the thefts, she’d dismissed the idea. She had been with him for years. The willingness to do harm required something her bonded hadn’t possessed. Ambition. But this—a man drinking and wallowing in self-pity, this was Jordan she knew.
The curse that had come out of the body on T’Kaieri had been some of the most advanced and complicated magic she had ever seen. By comparison, the memory stone was child’s play.
Jordan was skilled in the craft, but he lacked direction. He was a dabbler. The poison could have easily been him. The glamour as well, but not the curse. At least, not that curse.
“This wasn’t your idea, was it? Who helped you create the curse?” Jordan had a lot of friends on the island. His charm and attractive features had won people over so readily. Of course, none of them had to live with him….
Jordan lowered himself to the floor. “I did it all. The robbery, the poison bullets, the glamoured corpse, but it was all your fault.”
His eyes streamed. “I did everything for you—followed you all over the world, bought you everything your heart could possibly desire. I did everything, and it was never enough.”
“She didn’t need things, you prick—just a partner who understood,” Daniel fumed.
Jordan’s lips parted. Comprehension flashed across his face. “And you’re him.” He pointed at Serin. “She’s yours. It’s why she brought you.”
Daniel adjusted his grip on the gun. “Serin belongs to herself, asshole. I’m just along for the ride.”
Jordan took another swig. Finding the bottle empty, he tossed it away. “It doesn’t matter.” He reached under his shirt, then drew out a pendant hanging from a silver chain. “I have this, so you can’t touch me.”
She raised a brow. “Where did you get that?”
“From the damn archive, of course. It nullifies your power.”
“But I can still touch you,” Daniel said, his weapon trained on Jordan’s head.
Serin sighed heavily, finally convinced. Jordan wasn’t the mastermind. He also wouldn’t ever tell her who really did it, but he didn’t have to anymore. “That won’t be necessary,” she told Daniel.
“And why is that?” Jordan asked, twirling the chain to make the pendant swing.
“Because that isn’t an anti-Elemental amulet. There’s no such thing. If I recall correctly, that charm lets you find things that are lost.”
There was a beat of silence. “You still can’t touch me.” Jordan didn’t sound as confident. “This place doesn’t have working plumbing. There’s not enough water to drown me.”
“I don’t have to drown you.” She kept her eyes on him, calling his water to her.
Jordan doubled over. His mouth gaped as he stared down at his hands and body. The confusion on his face was swiftly followed by horror.
Out of the corner of her eye, Serin could see Romero put his gun down, but she didn’t turn her head. If she saw his reaction, she might stop.
“Your body is mostly water,” she reminded Jordan in a steady tone.
“But you can’t. This is beyond your skill.” Jordan’s cheeks sank, pressing deep into his skill. He was starting to get the gaunt appearance of a starving man.
His mouth contorted, body falling forward. He lay on the floor as his body shuddered, shrinking before their eyes. “I would have loved you forever and look at you, you heartless bitch. This is so easy for you.”
Guilt tore her heart to pieces, but Serin didn’t release him.
A thin trickle of water was running from him to her. She forced her features to remain expressionless. “Actually, you have no idea what this is costing me…”
She didn’t look at Daniel. She couldn’t. This will be over soon, all of it.
More and more water ran toward her. Jordan’s body was starting to disintegrate. Without the water to hold it together, parts of it were turning to dust. Soon, only bones remained. They were bleached white by magic, surrounded by a pile of pink and tan dust.
Serin had killed many times over the years. She had felt satisfaction, a sense of justice. This time, she felt nothing. She embraced the silence, holding as still as possible before she had to go on.
“You’ll feel it later.”
Her breath caught. Daniel was still there. Dumbfounded, she gaped at him with her mouth open. “What are you still doing here?”
Daniel holstered his gun. “Did you expect me to leave?”
On some level, she had.
He shook his head at her. “Well, that’s not happening.”
“But you did see me, right?” She waved at the bones. Had he turned away and covered his ears?
Daniel’s head dipped. He appeared a little confused. “I did. And?”
“He was my ex. We were bonded for almost a decade.”
“Yeah, and he betrayed you and tried to kill you and your entire island. The shithead deserved what he got.”
“But I did that,” she said, pointing at the bones in bewilderment.
Daniel scratched his head. “Um, babe—I mean, Serin—can I ask you something?”
“What is it?” she asked, an impending sense of doom engulfing her.
“How is making mummies all that different from drowning someone?” He appeared genuinely perplexed.
“Because it is,” she said slowly.
Water talents shouldn’t be able to pull the moisture from a body. A person’s aura, their chi, was too strong a barrier. Daniel shrugged. “Well, it isn’t to me.”
“As far as I know, only one Water Elemental has been able to do it. She lived thousands of years ago. According to their records, the only reason she was able to do it was because she’d given herself over to the black.”
“As in evil?” Daniel scoffed. “You’re not evil. Again, that asshole had it coming. And maybe more Water talents would have developed that skill if you didn’t have that stupid arbitrary cutoff of a hundred years.”
“I didn’t say I was evil, but that is the only time one of us had the ability.”
“That you know of.”
He had a point. Serin had thought she knew everything about Water talents, but T’Kaieri held more secrets than she’d realized.
Daniel broke away, pointing at the bones. “About Jordan… I thought you would question him more.”
Serin shook off her malaise, beginning to gather the stolen objects. “He wouldn’t have named his accomplice.”
“You’re probably right,” Daniel said, opening his pack so she could stow the artifacts.
“Wrap them first,” she reminded him.
He nodded, taking out a small roll of silk. Magical ar
tifacts in close proximity could interact. There were other more effective barriers, but this was the most lightweight. “So, about the accomplice… Are we back to square one?”
“No.” As much as she wanted to deny it, there was really only one viable suspect. Serin paused, picking up the memory stone. Snatches of a conversation she’d had years ago came back.
It had been a few decades into her service. She’d been sharing a meal with Gia on the beach. When the Earth Elemental left, Serin went to the archives to research an upcoming job.
She’d found him handling the Elephant-shaped stone, turning it over and over in his hands. When he saw her, he put it down, changing the subject when she offered to demonstrate how it worked.
I should have known then. A scholar of magic wouldn’t have turned down a demonstration like that. Not unless he already knew how it worked.
Heart aching, she reached out and took Daniel’s hand. “We need to go. I have a good idea of who the accomplice is.”
34
Gia opened the door, then climbed down the winding stairs. The ancient stone steps were slippery. They’d been polished smooth with age, the center of every one so worn there was a dip in the middle of each.
The castle was on the coast of the Isle of Man. But Gia hadn’t need to see the crumbling turrets or partially rebuilt bailey to know that its history was long. The stones were whispering their stories in her ear, but she shut them out. She was only interested in the castle’s most recent occupant.
He hadn’t been here long. Since leaving T’Kaieri, he’d been all over, Italy, Spain, Greece—anywhere there were repositories of ancient learning. That was in line with his interests. However, it hadn’t been necessary to track him through all those places. When she decided to find him, it was simple, because he hadn’t been hiding. Uncle John wanted to be found.
He was sitting on a far bench surrounded by glass vials filled with multicolored liquids, extracts of rare herbs and flowers. Bunsen burners warmed glass distillation equipment. She traced the line of condensation as a potent hallucinogen dripped into a collection flask. It was sitting next to a state-of-the-art compound microscope.
He’d even added a sprinkler system on the ceiling and drains on the linoleum-covered floor, just like a modern laboratory. The alchemist’s lair had been updated, embracing the latest technologies as they were invented.
He’d even embraced new lighting technology. Sickly blue fluorescent lights highlighted every object in the room. It made Uncle John resemble like a living cadaver as he mixed his many vials and experiments.
She hadn’t made a sound, but he knew she was there. A little smile played on his lips as he continued in his work, meticulously counting giant seeds with a pair of forceps. When he was finished, he glanced up from his workbench, his face bright and welcoming.
The expression was so warm that for a second, she almost convinced herself she’d made a mistake.
But Gia had finally remembered the lessons she’d learned as a child. The best liars always smiled. They hid what they were behind bright grins while trying to hug others, but only so they could bury the knife in their backs.
John stood, bowing at her. He beckoned her closer. “I was hoping it would be you.”
Gia didn’t move. She kept her eyes fixed on him, but her other senses were rapidly scanning the room, searching and identifying threats.
Gia didn’t move until she was satisfied she’d cataloged them all. She walked the length of the bench nearest her, running her hand across the pitted surface along the edge.
“You’re not even going to try to deny you were behind the theft, Puck?”
He shrugged, the hapless little gesture effortlessly charming. “Why bother? You’re here. Obviously, you know that I was involved—although, I am curious. When did you realize I framed Jordan?”
“It’s not a frame-up when the subject allows himself to be led into committing the crime,” Gia muttered.
She stared at him, still in disbelief that John was the one behind this entire mess. “You played Jordan, didn’t you? He actually thought you were helping him—being supportive. I saw you with him and the elders, playing the wise but reluctant counselor. Jordan had his pride. It wouldn’t have been difficult to convince him to be dissatisfied with his life on the island.”
She picked up a rusty scalpel with dried plant residue caked on the blade. “But now that I think about it, you were the one who brought him to the island in the first place. You were aware of the community’s traditions, the steps they take to continue the bloodlines. Dalasini had already started quietly searching for candidates when you brought Jordan—a strong talent, fresh and young and just the right age to be bonded to Serin.”
Gia narrowed her eyes. “What was he to you? I don’t believe he was your nephew.”
“Why don’t you think we’re related?” John seemed genuinely interested in her answer.
“Perhaps I’d like to think no one would screw over their own blood so badly. You know Serin executed him for what he did, right?”
It was as if a cloud passed over the sun—a momentary aberration. John’s face cleared, and he shrugged. “A slight miscalculation. I underestimated her. I thought she’d feel too guilty for failing to return his affections.”
He shuffled a few Petri dishes around, presumably to continue counting seeds.
“You didn’t share a drop of blood.” If there had been a chance for John’s line to mingle with an Elemental one, he wouldn’t have risked everything this way.
“No, those days are long over for me,” John admitted. “Jordan was just a poor orphaned teen, very talented and personable. I took him under my wing.”
“But your mentorship only went so far. You set him up, playing on his dissatisfaction until he joined you in betraying us.”
John tsked. “Betrayal is such a strong word. I merely wanted to expand my horizons, test a few limits. But the archivists and you ladies are so protective of your powers.”
Gia felt like screaming. “We freely shared our knowledge with you. You lied and stole from us. The worst part is you didn’t have to. The archivists gave you carte blanche with our records. They would have let you borrow whatever you wanted, but that wasn’t enough for you.”
His eyes widened. “I appreciated that, but I came to the realization there was no point to it all.”
“What the hell are talking about? You had access to the most advanced magic repository in the world, yet you threw it away and for what?”
She waved to the sad basement laboratory. “So you can mix up poisons capable of killing all Supes or to continue that pathetic pursuit of all alchemists—searching for the philosopher’s stone?”
John laughed. “My dear, I don’t have to do that. I found the secret to eternal life long ago.”
Her vaunted self-control was cracking under the strain. She expelled a frustrated breath. “So, you’re just mad… Is it congenital or were you driven insane?”
“Neither, of course. But I don’t pay the skeptics any mind. Not anymore. You see, all I have to do it wait…all the naysayers eventually die off. It’s a numbers game. “
He waved dismissively, but there was an unwholesome excitement just below the surface. Joyful glee animated his features. “My child, I’m far older than you could ever imagine.”
He leaned back as if they were enjoying a coffee in the sun. “I’ve had so many names I’ve forgotten some of them. But you’ve heard of a few of my more notable ones. Children learn them in school. Newton, for one. He’s a great favorite. There are so many societies devoted to me under that name. Then there was the stint for her Highness Queen Elizabeth when I first used the name John. It was so simple and utilitarian I decided to use it again and again over the years.”
Gia resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Of course he was claiming to be John Dee. The occult astrologer was a go-to for mad megalomaniac practitioners. She couldn’t count the number of times she’d stripped or killed a John Dee. It was
like an insane human claiming to be Napoleon.
“Yes, yes,” she said on a sigh. Gia had heard this kind of thing before, always from crazy, murderous practitioners just before she punished them.
“Anyone else in there?” she asked. “Archimedes, perhaps—‘give me a lever large enough and I will move the world’ and all that jazz?”
His mouth dropped open. “How astute of you to guess. You really are the brightest witch I’ve ever encountered. So noble, so gifted… Yes, Archimedes was my first name. I’ve grown quite fuzzy over the years about my own origins, but everyone remembers their first.”
Gia sniffed. “No.”
“Sorry, dear?” He leaned forward as if he’d suddenly grown hard of hearing, the weight of his many years pressing down on him.
It was a very good act. That or he really believed it.
“You are not old enough to be any of those men. You’re a hundred and forty-three years old and not a year more. Younger than Caimen. More than Dalasini. And you’re nowhere near as old as I am. Not to mention the fact I met Newton once. You’re nothing like him.”
Her heart was breaking in her chest. Part of her had hoped this was all a big mistake. But when she’d heard Jordan reading that recipe, she’d instantly known they weren’t his words or his work. He’d been relaying orders for someone else.
The bored tone alone was tipoff enough. Jordan had been reluctantly performing a chore, and there were very few people he’d do actual work for. Her sister Serin was above suspicion. Jordan might have done work for one of her parents, but they would cut their own hearts out before betraying their community.
John, on the other hand, had lived among them, a trusted and benevolent presence. But for some reason, he’d acted like a visitor the entire time.
“I trusted you.” There had been no reason not to. By the time she’d met him, he’d already been living on the island for a few years. To her, the fact he’d been embraced by that closed-off society meant he’d been thoroughly vetted. He was the only one Jordan would have done anything like this for.
The Elementals Collection Page 82