Touch of Death (Order of the Elements Book 2)

by Emma L. Adams

I had zero patience for taking the bus after my near-death experience, so I used the node to hop into the Parallel and then crossed back over, coming out of the node on the road opposite the Order. Judith startled at the sight of me, so badly that she nearly dropped the box she was carrying.

  “Hey,” I said, in falsely warm tones. “What does the Order want?”

  “How—what?” she said. “You’re not supposed to be in the Parallel.”

  “I’m working on a case.” Well, it was true. Did the Order want to know about my mission? If they expected me to share all the private details of the liches’ murders I’d discovered in the last couple of days, they could forget it. “Who wants to see me?”

  “Mrs Carlisle.” She watched me leave with a bemused expression on her face.

  The head of the retrieval unit. What did she want with me?

  It was only after I left Judith behind that I realised that the logo on the box she carried was the mark of the COS. So she was in on it, too. I made a mental note to question her further at the next opportunity, then I showed my ID to the guards outside the Order’s headquarters. The phantom attack had left me so frazzled that I barely noticed their usual raised eyebrows at the black mark on my record.

  When they’d let me in, I crossed the reception area and made my way down to the basement. Mrs Carlisle occupied the same chair she had previously, a bored expression on her face, and didn’t acknowledge my presence.

  I halted in front of the desk. “You wanted to talk to me.”

  “Yes,” she said. “I did. You are working on a case in the Parallel?”

  “I am,” I said. “With the Death King,” I added, in case she got it into her head to start asking unwanted questions.

  “Yes.” Her mouth pinched with distaste. “I am aware of the unusual circumstances of your meeting, but the fact of the matter is that I cannot allow you to continue to be involved with a case which is not within the constraints of your role at the Order.”

  “Excuse me?” I said. “There’s no rule against me taking other jobs.”

  “On the contrary, this case of yours runs counter to your position as a retriever,” she said. “The Death King is a rival authority. You cannot work for both of us.”

  “I’m not working for him,” I said. “I’m working with him. Major difference there.”

  What the hell? What’d brought this on? The Order had better not be involved with whoever was murdering the liches. That was all I needed: another traitor with my name on their hit list.

  “I don’t see the difference,” she said. “The Order requests that you cease to work on this case, immediately.”

  “I don’t think so.” The rebellious words came out before I could reel them in, and I pulled the muddy coin from my pocket. “I found this at the scene of the crime I’m investigating. Does it look familiar to you?”

  Her gaze passed over the coin. “That’s a cantrip.”

  “It was.” I held it up to the light. “Your new cantrips from the market are all designed to go blank when their spell is used up. Whatever spell was cast on this one turned a phantom into a living creature and a lich into a rotting corpse. Someone is using the Order’s cantrips to commit murder.”

  When her brows rose, I realised, too late, what I’d given away.

  “A lich?” she said. “I see why the Death King would find that concerning, but my point still stands. I insist that you cease to work on this case immediately.”

  Anger surged within me. “Is there any work you want to give me, then? Because if I don’t get some cash on my hands soon, I’ll be forced to reconsider my employment prospects.”

  “There’s a case in here with your name on it.” She scrolled down the computer screen.

  That did not sound promising. I wanted to argue the point, but the link to the COS was tentative at best, and anyone might have purchased a cantrip to reuse without the Order needing to be involved. Maybe the vampires could shed some light on who might be responsible. I wasn’t skipping my meeting with the council, no matter what the Order said.

  Mrs Carlisle tapped a few keys on the computer. “There have been reports of some dangerous spells which have fallen into the hands of a group of newly created vampires. They were seen near the market. I have the address here.”

  I groaned inwardly. “No need. I think I know exactly which vampires you’re talking about.”

  10

  Either Brant had some hitherto-unknown psychic abilities, or he’d had an inkling the Order would be on my back, because I found him waiting outside when I left the building.

  “Devon told me,” he said, dispelling both options. “When I went back to your place. Sorry I took off earlier.”

  “Sorry I laughed when the horse kicked you.” I fell into step with him as we walked towards the node. “In my defence, it was hilarious.”

  “I guess it probably was,” he said. “What did the Order want?”

  “I have to go back to deal with those vampires we found in Vaughn’s old house tomorrow,” I said. “Apparently, they have some illegal spells they’re using on civilians to knock them out cold so they can feed on them.”

  “I can go and look,” he said.

  “The Order will find out if I don’t do it myself,” I said. “I can’t risk pissing them off. Besides, I need the money.”

  “What about the case, though?” he said. “I mean, I won’t be disappointed if you turn your back, but I thought you were keen to stay on the Death King’s good side.”

  “I am,” I said. “Kind of. I don’t have any more clues, but I guess I can ask when I meet with the vampires tomorrow night.”

  “Meet with which vampires?” His eyes rounded. “Not the vampire council?”

  Oops. After my outburst at the Order, I couldn’t seem to stop running my mouth off, it seemed.

  “The Death King got himself a meeting with them to discuss the murders,” I said. “I got invited along, too, for some reason.”

  “Don’t go,” he said. “I mean it, Liv. The vampires are bad news. The Order won’t like it either.”

  “They don’t own me,” I said, irked. “Neither do you, for that matter. I’m not meeting them alone. The Death King—”

  “Is no more likely to spare you than they are,” he said. “You’re nothing to them, no more than a tool.”

  “Oh, thanks,” I said. “A tool, am I? What am I supposed to do to stay totally unsullied, strike out alone in the human world? I might not have grown up like you did, but that doesn’t mean you need to treat me like I’m made of glass.”

  His face reddened. “Look, I don’t mean to order you around, but the vampire council aren’t interested in meeting civilians for no reason. They want something from you.”

  “Maybe they do,” I relented. “It’s been a long day, and I’m tired and pissed off. You don’t have to remind me these people are dangerous. I know.”

  “I know you do.” He exhaled in a sigh. “The truth is, I’m scared for you.”

  My mouth parted in surprise at his admission. I knew it must have cost him to admit to fear.

  “Of what?” I asked. “Of being killed by a half-dead phantom reanimated by a spell?”

  “No,” he said. “The Order already tried to destroy you once before. You’re strong, but the vampires, the Death King… they don’t play to win, they play to obliterate the competition. They’re both vying for control of the Parallel. And they’ll destroy anyone who stands between them if they have to.”

  I gaped at him. The Death King hadn’t said anything about wanting to control the Parallel, but then again, who was to say that wasn’t his eventual goal? He must want something other than to rule over the Court of the Dead for the entirety of his endless life. As for the vampires, they were equally reclusive. Equally dangerous.

  But I had to go through with this. For Dex’s sake, if nobody else’s.

  I wound my hand into his. “Let’s not talk about this tonight. I’ll order takeout and you can watch me get k
illed by a dragon in Skyrim again, okay?”

  “Haven’t got none,” said the vampire, leaning on the door frame to block my view inside the hallway.

  I couldn’t say I was surprised. The three vampires had reacted exactly as I’d anticipated to my request that they turn over the illegal knockout spells the Order had sent me to retrieve. Why they wanted to knock out civilians when they already had all the perks of being vamps was a total mystery to me, but the Order had decreed they hand over the spells immediately, and as their retriever, that meant I had to stay here until they complied.

  I remained in front of the door, despite the warning flash of fangs, cursing the Order inwardly for landing me in this crap. With my upcoming meeting with the vampire council tonight, I didn’t want to push my luck by skipping out on this job. “That’s not what the Order’s report says.”

  “Fuck the Order.”

  “Nice sentiment, but I’m going to stay here until you hand over the spells, or else I’m coming in to get them. I have a warrant which says I’m allowed to stay here until you give them to me.”

  I didn’t have a warrant, but I was damned if I left without what I’d come for.

  “Oh, hey, Liv,” said a voice.

  I glanced over my shoulder. Trix appeared behind me, a cheerful smile on his face as though we were exchanging pleasantries in the middle of a sunny park rather than on a vampire’s doorstep.

  “Hey,” I said, fervently glad of the elf’s timing. “Would you be able to help me persuade these gentlemen to hand over their illegally acquired knockout spells?”

  “It’s not illegal!” the vampire protested. “I got ‘em from Flare.”

  “You got them from who?” I said. “Who’s Flare?”

  “No-one. None of your business.”

  “You’re not very bright, are you?” I said. “You just said you got your spells from Flare. Who’s that, your supplier? Was it stolen, by any chance?”

  “Bugger off. I didn’t break any laws.”

  “You’re squatting in a house which belonged to a criminal who tried to kill me,” I told them. “Let’s just say you look about as reputable as Smaug the Magnificent sitting on a mountain of gold. Besides, using knockout spells to snag people to feed on is illegal.”

  “Please give us the spells.” Trix glided over. “I’ll have to come inside, otherwise Liv will get herself hurt, and I don’t want that to happen.”

  The lead vampire sidestepped the elf and lunged at me. My fist came up, colliding with the vampire’s chin. Pain splintered my knuckles. Ow. When would I learn not to punch vampires?

  Trix hit out, as fast as a vampire himself, his fists whirling. Punches hit in quick succession as all three vampires tried to engage him at once, but getting a hit on the elf was like trying to grab a bar of soap. He spun and danced among them, giving me the chance to slip between them and into the house.

  Inside, they hadn’t even properly unpacked their bags, and a sack of cantrips lay on the carpet like a bag of cash from a heist movie. I’d have preferred to confiscate the lot, but following the Order’s instructions to the letter was my best bet at this stage. I turned over cantrip over cantrip, looking for the right one.

  Once again, I felt the twinge of Dex’s absence. I’d tried looking around for him again when I’d crossed over into the Parallel, but no signs of his smirking face had appeared. It was enough to make me want to ask the Death King if he knew how to get him back, but he would hardly care for the life of a simple fire sprite who didn’t belong to his Court. As for the Order, they didn’t even know he existed, and they’d probably take my friendship with him as proof of my criminal nature.

  Giving up on finding the right cantrips among the haul, I grabbed the whole bag and slung it over my shoulder. Sometimes working around criminals was more trouble than it was worth.

  Outside, I found Trix standing over the bodies of the dazed-looking vampires. “Thanks for the help.”

  “Anytime,” he said. “Should I hit them some more?”

  “Uh…” I looked down at their unconscious bodies. “I think that’ll do. The Order wanted me to get their illegal haul, not kill them.” More’s the pity. My hand was really starting to throb by now, so it was probably for the best that I didn’t stick around until they woke up.

  “What did they steal?” asked Trix.

  “Spells, apparently from someone called Flare.” I held up the bag. “Does the name sound familiar to you?”

  “I know an elf called Fallellorax.”

  “Er… not quite.” I was fairly sure no elves were involved with the illegal cantrip trade. Their own magic made ours look like a party trick by comparison. “Thanks for the help, anyway.”

  I walked away, my hand throbbing. Brant was off on some other mission, which was more of a relief than I’d admit aloud. We might have made up after yesterday’s argument, but that didn’t mean I wanted to give him another shot at convincing me not to meet with the vampire lords tonight.

  Instead, I went home, directly via the node. The more often I used the node to travel into my own house and then to the Order, the less I could be bothered with getting the bus. Devon barely glanced at me when I landed in the shop. “Got what you went for?”

  “Uh-huh.” My hand gave another throb. “Got a healing cantrip? I punched a vampire again.”

  “What are you like?” She tossed a cantrip at me, then returned to sewing a button onto her costume. “By the way, I’m working on a set of costumes based on our D&D campaign. I figured you were too busy to make your own.”

  “Right… the comic con,” I said. “I should have asked Trix if he was going. He just helped me kick the shit out of the vampires.”

  “Nice,” she said. “Also, I tested the cantrip, and it worked.”

  “Which one?”

  She lifted a coin—the one which had been blank. “This one. I’ve reused it four times and it’s reset every time it’s run out. If it has a limit, I haven’t seen it.”

  “Damn.” I’d known the cantrip worked the same as a regular one despite the recycled material, but I would have assumed it’d wear out at some point.

  “Exactly,” she said. “I want in on these suppliers, whoever they are.”

  “Maybe the people at the COS’s store in the market would give me more details if I told them I want to get some for myself.”

  “Not if they think you’re threatening to steal their customers.” A calculating look passed over her face. “But I guess they must be trading with people on this side, if they’re supplying the Order. Maybe I’ll ask the Order to let me have some of their fancy new supplies. The worst they can do is say no.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that?”

  “They’re not going to wipe my memory over an innocent request for more materials,” she said. “I’ll ask the Order the next time they come here.”

  “If you’re sure.” It wasn’t my job to tell her what to do, but given the Order’s refusal to budge on the issue of me working with the Death King, I doubted they’d give in on this one, either. “I’d better head over to the Order before they start pestering me again.”

  I stepped through the node, landing in the usual spot down the road from the Order’s HQ. Whatever the general public thought of a dishevelled woman carrying a sack of what looked like pirate treasure through the city centre, they’d probably seen weirder, because nobody gave me a second glance.

  I entered the Order’s HQ and made straight for the retrieval unit. Mrs Carlisle wasn’t in, but stacks of cardboard boxes filled the rest of the office, all marked with the COS logo. They must have bought enough supplies to last several months if they were dropping them off in the retrieval unit of all places. We were the lowest rung on the ladder and didn’t even get suitable clothing, let alone protective charms for dangerous missions. I wondered what the odds were that I’d get caught if I sneaked a few cantrips into my pockets.

  Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and I wheeled around as Mrs Carli
sle entered the office.

  “What are you doing?” she said, eyeing the sack of cantrips over my shoulder.

  “Returning the illegal cantrips you asked me to bring in.” I planted the sack onto the desk. “Speaking of cantrips, why do you need so many? There aren’t that many staff in the retrieval unit.”

  “Yes, I’m aware,” she said. “These cantrips are held here in preparation for events like the tragedy a few weeks ago. They’ll also prove useful for routine missions, too.”

  “I thought survival packs for retrievers were an unnecessary expense.”

  Or so I’d heard, anyway. Her mouth pressed together. “I would have thought you’d be pleased to no longer have to depend on your friend Devon’s charity to provide you with basic safety cantrips.”

  “It isn’t charity. We’re business partners.” I did her paperwork for the Order, while she gave me enough free cantrips not to have to buy them out of my meagre earnings. We’d both be in equal trouble if we were forced to shut down. Her family had kicked her out at eighteen and refused to let her back in when she’d failed her exams at the academy. She had nowhere else to go, least of all in the Parallel, and was as dependent on me as I was on her.

  Yet the Order was willing to destroy her life because of how much they despised me. My hands shook with anger, and I clenched my fists at my sides. “I got those cantrips from the vampires, as requested. They claimed to have bought their haul from someone known as ‘Flare’. Know the name?”

  “I’m not familiar with the illicit dealings of the Parallel’s underworld,” she said. “Your mission is done, so there’ll be no more deviations today. Clear?”

  “Crystal.” A meeting with the vampire council didn’t count as a deviation, technically, since I was officially off the clock. Not that the Order would accept that as an excuse, but refusing the vampire council struck me as riskier than turning up to a meeting with them. They hadn’t made any threats, but invitations to meet the council who ruled the city didn’t come along every day.

  How much did they really know about the current developments at the market, and the force sneaking through the nodes, killing the undead? As for the COS’s mysterious suppliers, did they know someone was buying up their spells and using them to kill the dead by turning them back into the living again?