Crimson Veil

Page 11

I raced alongside the Fyrun, finally managing to catch her attention by waving the slatted wood almost within her reach. A moment later, she turned, gazing at me calmly. I tossed the wood, hard, a few yards away. If I threw it too far, she might ignore it.
After a moment’s hesitation, she headed toward the wood, her hunger palpable in the night. As she ignited the broken sign, I turned back to see that Bran had managed to get the attention of his opponent. She, too, was beginning to feed. The rain helped us, soaking the wood so that it made it harder to catch flame, and so it was taking them longer to ignite and devour it.
Delilah had lost control of her Fyrun, but Shade had managed to distract his. Iris moved in quickly, aiming her wand at the approaching woman. Another burst of frost, and another flameout as fire and ice met. And then a third, and by that time, the two we’d engaged were barreling down on her. With one last push of effort—Iris looked exhausted—she managed to net both of them at the same time, and with a huge flash, they vanished to wherever it was she sent them.
Iris stared at the empty parking lot, then slowly began to collapse to the ground. Shade caught her up in his arms and we gathered round her. Camille and Morio broke their trance, but the massive rain storm continued.
“Iris, bless you. Are you all right?” Delilah fussed over her, brushing a few stray bangs out of her eyes.
Iris flashed us a weary smile. “I’m all right, yes. Tired? Definitely. Exhausted and needing my bed, I think. But they are gone and they will not return. However, we must find the runes that allowed them entrance and put a stop to them or they can be used again.”
“What should we be looking for?”
“It will look similar to a Demon Gate. And will most likely be where the fire originated. That would burn the brightest and hottest. When you find them, come get me and I will take care of them. I am the only one here who can destroy them.”
As we hesitantly reentered the building, Chase came with us. We left Morio and Bran outside with Iris to protect her. We worked our way through the darkened, soggy remains of the club, and I tried not to think about the Wayfarer and the people who had died under my watch. This one was going to haunt me for a long time. I knew it wasn’t my fault, but knowing something didn’t always translate into feelings. Emotions didn’t play by society’s rules, nor did they pay much attention to logic. But now, I knew that we had to look for signs that more of the Fyrun Fae had been loosed in my bar’s fire. And if so, were they still running around Seattle?
Camille sent out feelers, trying to home in on where the magic that had summoned the Fyrun Fae might be based. And then she paused, as if listening.
“I think I have it. I hear it…” She began to hurry, stumbling over fallen timbers and piles of ash and charcoal. The scent of soot was so thick that she and Delilah were both coughing, but rain was now pouring in through a couple smallish holes on the ceiling and that only added to the confusion. Thank the gods for the lights on our helmets or we’d all have ended up with broken legs.
We passed through a hallway, then into one of the back rooms, following Camille as she sped up. “Here, this way—it’s there, and we have to hurry because whatever it is, it’s still activated.”
Chase reached out to grab her elbow when she stumbled. “Don’t hurt yourself. We’re headed right to the point of origin. We know it broke out back here because a couple of the waitresses who were checking the supply closet noticed the flames when they began. But the fire was so strong, they couldn’t put them out with the fire extinguisher, so they evacuated the building and called the fire department.”
As I looked around at the mess, a shiver ran down my back. There but for the grace of the gods…
“I’m just grateful everyone got out alive.” I set my lips, thinking that it was going to cost Shikra a pretty penny to rebuild. Luckily, she was a vampire and had probably accumulated a good savings by now. That was one advantage to being able to charm almost anyone you chose to. She could have a billionaire boyfriend without too much of a stretch. At least long enough to get her hands on his bank account.
“I guess we aren’t dealing with ghosts after all.” Delilah let out a small sigh of relief.
I echoed her sentiments. Given all that we’d faced, we were getting very tired of spirits and hauntings.
Camille stopped by a storage closet—or what had been a storage closet. It was now a burned-out shell.
“Here. What we’re looking for is in here. Go get Iris.” As she leaned in, shining her light on the walls, Shade took off for the door.
Etched against one of the timbers that was still standing were brilliant runes, the color of flame, the color of white-hot fire. Mesmerizing, they lined the wood, difficult to look at and yet more difficult to look away from.
Camille reached toward them, then stopped. “Daemons. These are not demonic, but they are akin to it—it has to be daemon in origin.” Daemons were akin to demons, but usually less chaotic and more organized. They had different natures, that much was for sure, though neither of them tended to be very pleasant to deal with.
Delilah let out a sigh. “Lowestar? He’s the daemon at the top of our list right now.”
“Probably. I do know that I am reluctant to touch them.” Camille backed away. “Something tells me that touching those runes would be very, very bad. Any other thoughts on the matter?”
Shade returned, holding Iris well above the floor.
She examined the runes. “This is it. These activate the portal to the realm of the Fyrun Fae. It’s intimately connected with the Elemental plane of Fire, but a step to the side, you might say. And you’re right, if any of you touched these, it would suck you in and you’d be so much toast.”
With a glance at Shade, she added, “Put me down. I need to be on firm footing to do what I’m about to do. And the rest of you back away. No telling what will happen when I blast those suckers.”
“Be careful, Iris.” Chase knelt down. “Please, be careful. Bruce and the babies need you. Astrid and I need you.”
She gave him a tight-lipped smile and patted his cheek. “I am made of tougher stuff than you may believe, dear detective.” And then she motioned for him to move away.
We backed off, watching. Camille and Delilah were breathing tightly, I could hear the shallow intake, see the tight rise and fall of their breasts as they tensed, waiting for Iris to act. If I was a breather, I’d be right there with them. As it was, I poised myself to move, whether it be to throw myself on Iris to protect her, or run like hell if everything blew.
She stepped back, tested her footing against the debris on the floor, then aimed her wand at the runes. She closed her eyes, lowered her head, and began whispering a conjuration, a combination of song and chant. Her voice was clear and light, and though I didn’t understand the words, the force behind them was sovereign.
A stream of frost came from the wand, narrowly focused, and she trained it on the center rune, which was a little bigger than the rest. As frost met fire, the runes began to fill in with ice, and a crackling static rattled the air. A low rumble began to shake the hall as the frost worked its way through each rune, freezing them into stillness, quenching the fire within.
The rumble became a quake beneath our feet, yet still Iris stood steady. When she reached the top rune, a gust of flame burst out from it, shooting over her head. If she hadn’t been so short, it would have hit her in the face, but as it was, all it did was shower her with sparks, which sizzled into vapor before they reached her hair.
And then, as the last rune completely filled in, all the runes blazed bright bluish-white, the shimmering blue of ice in winter, and they exploded, shattering into a thousand shards, which flew every which way.
Iris shouted, but when I would have run to her, she held out her hand. A moment later, the fragments of ice fell to the ground as a cloud of mist rose. They began to melt. The wall where the runes had been inscribed was gutted, as if it had burned right through to the core. But no sparks remained, no sign of the magical flames that had caused the gaping rectangle of a hole. Instead, the drywall and wood surrounding it looked saturated, as if a surge of water had thundered through.
When the air cleared from mist and smoke, Camille was already by Iris’s side. Delilah and I joined her, anxious.
“Are you all right—do you need help?”
“Did you get hurt?”
I swept Iris up in my arms. “You look exhausted.”
And she did. Her face showed the strain of the magic, and she leaned against me, her arms nestled against my chest, her head on my shoulder. I could feel her weariness, and the electricity that still charged around her body. A faint scent of ozone lingered around her like a perfume—like the smell before a snowstorm. As I shifted my grasp to hold her better, she let out a long, slow sigh.
“I don’t think I can stay awake much longer.” Iris gazed into my eyes. She wasn’t afraid of me. I knew she respected me, and she never seemed repelled by my nature, nor did she show outright fear. “I’m so tired, and my breasts ache. My babies will want their feeding, and so will Astrid.”
I nodded for the others to move as I carried her out of the building, cautious so as not to jolt her. At the limousine, I slid her into the backseat. “Take Mistress Iris home, please. And make certain she has help getting to the house. She’ll need a long rest tonight, and food. Tell Master Bruce that… tell him we couldn’t have saved the day without her. That she saved our asses.”
With a grin, the chauffer tipped his hat, made sure she was belted in, and then pulled into the silent night, ferrying our friend home.
I turned back to the others, who had joined me. “So we have a daemonic gate into the realm of the Fyrun Fae. I wonder if there was one in the Wayfarer. And if so, is it still there?”
“We’ll look. But for all we know, if there was, it might have been rigged to recall them after a certain time.” Shade stared at the parking lot. “Lowestar Radcliffe’s prints are all over this.”
“There are other daemons around, but Trytian knows that if we found out he was doing something like this, we’d crush his balls.” Camille leaned her ass on the back of the Lexus, looking exhausted. “And given Lowestar is attempting a coup on Seattle Supe-owned businesses, and that he’s attempting to open a gate to Suvika, the demigod of vice and finance, yeah, I think we’re on the right track.”
My stomach lurched. Lowestar was not only a white slaver, but also a murderer. In my gut, I knew that he was the one who had ordered the arsonist to torch the Wayfarer. And that meant he was responsible for Chrysandra’s death, and the deaths of the other patrons who had lost their lives in my bar.
I wrapped my arms around myself. Though the chill didn’t bother me, I felt empty and cold and angry. And I wanted revenge. For me, and for all of Radcliffe’s victims.
Chapter 6
By the time we got home, we were all done in. Bran split off, heading out to the studio where he was staying for the time being. Relieved that he decided not to join us, we trailed through the door and straight into the kitchen.
As I glanced around at the cheery domestic warmth that welcomed us home, it occurred to me that Camille had been about to tell me something when the call from Chase came in.
“What was it you wanted to say before we headed out?”
Camille dropped into a chair. “Oh, yeah. That.” She looked exhausted. “I made arrangements today for Father’s body. The Summerland Mortuary picked him up. They’re an Earthside Fae-run business. They will understand the care we need for him. They’re going to cremate him, and we’ll hold a service here until we can take him back to the shrine to rest next to Mother.”
“I think… I think he’s by her side already. All we have left is his shell. She’s waiting for us, you know. I saw her when Dredge killed me. She tried to help me, but when he turned me, she couldn’t hold on.” I’d never mentioned the fact that Mother had been waiting for me, with open arms, when I was killed. Camille knew from going through the ritual with me, where I’d cut Dredge off, but we’d never really talked about it.
Kitten made a small sound as she leaned against the counter. “I didn’t know that. I wish you would have told me earlier.”
I smiled up at her, feeling a hell of a lot older than I had a few years ago when we first came Earthside. “I wish I had, too, Kitten.”
“Enough long faces. I know these days have been hard on you, but you must breathe, let the tension go.” Hanna was busy as ever, and the room smelled like hot chicken soup and biscuits. “I thought you girls might like a bite to eat after all the fighting. You all look too pale.” She frowned. “Before you get too comfortable, everybody get to washing up while I dish up the food.”
“She’s right, but someone should check on Iris.”
“Vanzir has gone down to see her.” Hanna dusted her hands on a dishtowel. “He wanted to make certain she was all right when the driver brought her home.”
Speak of the devil, the kitchen door opened and Vanzir entered. He gave us the once-over. “Damn, you all look nasty. Iris told me all about it.”
“How is she?” Kitten wearily bit into a roll, crumbs trailing down her chin.
“She’s okay. Exhausted. Her mother-in-law was harping in her ear about running off and leaving the twins, but Bruce was seeing to her when I left. I don’t think tonight hurt her, but she’s going to need a good resting up. If I were you, I’d ask Smoky to get his ass back here in case you need any more ice magic.”
“Right. I suppose we have no choice. I’m done in. Let’s go wash up, have a bite to eat, and just… spend some time breathing.” Camille motioned to Morio. “We’ll use our bath. Meet you back here in ten minutes.”