Elemental Flame (The Eldritch Files Book 4) Page 11

  The original Hammer became a pendant jump drive. The last time I'd had that thing was when I went to my dad's house to confront the other Cyber Witch turned rogue Shadow Person. And now that house was gone and so was the jump drive. At first, Crwys thought the odd symbol on my chest was the Hammer because it rested where the pendant did. But later we both suspected that wasn't true. I now believed the symbol was my Witch's mark and the original Hammer was lost.

  I sighed. "There's nothing you can use?"

  Now he looked down at Grey and scratched the back of her neck. But he didn't say anything.

  "Ivan?"

  He let out a short sigh. "There is something, but I haven't wanted to point it out."

  "Point what out?"

  "Remember how I can see Arcane?"

  "Yeah?"

  "Well," he looked at me. No…he looked at my chest. "I can see a lot of it. And it's all concentrated right there." He tentatively pointed where his eyes focused. "I still see it all over you. It started out in patches but lately it's looking like a second skin."

  I put my hand over the odd scar on my chest. "You mean…I'm covered in it now?"

  "Pretty much."

  "Still look like worms?"

  He made a face. "Yeah. Sometimes though, when I see you use it, it looks like sparkling glitter. But it still smells bad and it creeps me out."

  "Do you think you could use it to make a copy?"

  "I could try. But I don't know how close I'll come. I'd be working from an old pattern in memory. Now if I could rescan the copy I made, then I could make a copy of that."

  "Is that possible?" I leaned forward.

  "Is what possible? Scanning that copy? Yeah, but I'd have to touch it and you heard Dharma. That thing's locked away with a million spells on it."

  I considered the added danger of trying to break into wherever the Hammer was—and that was a sticky point right there. Where? No one but Parliament and Clerics knew where they kept—

  Wait. Clerics.

  Ivan watched the thought progression on my face and sat forward with a finger pointed at me. "No. You are not involving her in this."

  "But she's a Cleric. She'll know where it is."

  "I won't do it. You can't make her an accessory to this. If she's caught, the punishment for Clerics is warlocking."

  He was right and I felt deflated. Getting to the copy of the book would be great, but risking everyone else wasn't a good idea. I wanted Crwys home. I wanted him with me. But I wasn't so far gone that I wanted to destroy my friends to do it. I held out my hand to him. "How do you want to use this Arcane?"

  "I'm not gonna bite your wrist like a Vampire and suck it out." He smirked at me when I blinked at his joke. Ivan was adorable. "I need you to create something with it. Just something. Make it a ball or a square, but dense enough that I have enough material to work with."

  Make something? I straightened and put my hands on my thighs. Creating objects out of the Elements but of the Elements had been a simple enough trick when I was ten. So making something with Arcane seemed reasonable.

  I pivoted on the coffee table and moved a few magazines aside. I held my hands a few inches apart. I sought out the subtle hum I'd noticed recently and let it increase in volume. My arms and hands tingled as the power coursed down my arms like red vines until it leaked from my hands. I directed the power flow and found myself lost as I stared at my forming creation. I admired the deft brush strokes and solid build as it came together from black and red glitter until I somehow knew it was finished.

  Blinking rapidly, I leaned back and felt Ivan's hand on my shoulder. "You okay?"

  "Yeah that was…that just felt intense."

  "I'll say. Did you mean to do that?"

  "Do what?" I looked at him and he cut his eyes down. I looked back at my creation and nearly pushed myself off the coffee table in surprise. I would have answered him no; I had no idea what I was creating. But I couldn't find my voice.

  Standing, no, digging at the coffee table with its right hoof stood a six inch high, light purple unicorn. The horn in his brow sparkled white as did the beast's mane and tail. It looked up at me and issued a tiny neigh.

  Unicorns fascinated me as a child. My favorite movie had been The Last Unicorn. I watched Legend so many times I could quote the movie by heart. Mom decorated my walls with murals of unicorns and dragons with spiral castle kingdoms and bright blue skies. But I hadn't thought of them since the day my dad told me my mom was dead.

  But I'm not dead.

  No. You're not. But why make a unicorn?

  "Sam," Ivan said as he pointed to it. "Look at its chest."

  I slid off the coffee table and knelt on the floor, putting myself even with the tiny creature. It stood twelve inches high to its ears, maybe thirteen at the top of its horn. It took a few steps toward me as I focused on the tiny, five-colored pentagram on its breast. "I don't understand this."

  "I'd take it as a good thing, maybe? Your subconscious creating something pleasant to combat all the stress?"

  "Maybe," I said. But the sight of the unicorn didn't fill me with joy the way it once did. What I got is a sense of foreboding. A warning of danger. "Can you use it?" I pushed myself up on my feet and stepped back. I didn't want it there anymore. I wanted it gone.

  "Yes. And the thing is thick, dense with Arcane." Ivan licked his lips as he moved himself to the edge of the couch and reached out with his hands. He didn't touch the unicorn, but placed an open hand on either side of it. I saw the familiar green lights play around his hands, and when he opened his eyes they were green. As the green lights danced toward the unicorn, red lights danced back to his hands. I'd seen Ivan do this before as part of his still developing magic. He magically digitized the unicorn, breaking it down into its components and into whatever he needed in order to transform it into something else.

  But this time he gasped as the unicorn completely vanished. He gripped the edge of the couch and stared at the coffee table, his greenish eyes looking at nothing. "This…is this possible?"

  "What?" I sat back down on the coffee table and put my hands on his shoulders. "What the hell's wrong? Are you okay? Is it hurting you? Come on, spit it back out!"

  His smile caught me off guard when he focused those eerie eyes on me. "No…it's not hurting me. Sam…I don't think you lost the jump drive at your dad's house."

  "Huh?" I let go and look confused. "Yes I did. I mean, Crwys sort of thought it melded to me when I used Arcane." I put my hand to the scar and felt it under my shirt. "But I didn't think that was true." I blinked. "Is it?"

  Ivan held up a long index finger for a second before he pushed himself back on the couch. He held out his hands as he'd done before and this time red light moved and flowed from them. As he slowly moved his hands further apart a book started to form between them until the light finished, turning green in the end and the book dropped into Ivan's lap.

  "The Hammer!" I nearly shouted as I reached out and grabbed it with both hands. I opened it and turned the pages. It looked like the real thing. I got up and dug my mom's athame from my bag under the table and moved it over the pages. Red script replaced the black as the true nature of the book revealed itself and old Arcane spells appeared. "You did it! I mean, Ivan, this is a perfect copy."

  "It's not a copy." He stood and after steadying himself, went to my kitchen and poured himself a full glass of water.

  I followed him. "What do you mean it's not a copy?"

  He finished the water before he leaned against the fridge. "Man that always wipes me out." He rubbed at his nose. "That," he pointed to the book in my hand. "Is the original. That is the jump drive I made for you."

  I looked at the book. "How—"

  "I think Crwys was right. You absorbed it. That book's been a part of you since you made your dad's house vanish."

  I set the book on the counter near the bowl of mushy ramen noodles and pulled my shirt down to look at my scar. It was still there, looking as ugly as ever. So…the Ha
mmer wasn't part of it, but it was inside of me.

  "What is that?" Ivan asked as he peered at it.

  "We—Crwys and I—thought maybe it was this," I said as I let the shirt go and pointed at the book. "But I think it's my Witch's mark now."

  "Like in the Malleus Maleficarum."

  "Yeah. The mark of Arcane."

  "Bummer," Ivan smiled. "I don't think that mark has anything to do with the Hammer. But the book did keep itself intact."

  "And I recreated it in the shape of a unicorn."

  "Yep. Give me a few minutes and I'll make you a copy of that one. But I suggest you keep that original in a safe place and not as a unicorn. What shape would you like me to remake the copy into?"

  I thought about that for a few minutes and only one answer came to me. "Make it in the shape a very important looking old book. Make it look like a magic book out of a movie. The gaudier, the better."

  FOURTEEN

  Brendi wanted a magic book; I'd give her a magic book. As Ivan worked, I readied my backpack and thought about how I was going to contact Brendi and lure her here. But by the time he finished, I didn't have any ideas. Bringing a Faerie into our world wasn't a good idea for the Faerie. None of them risked the threat of death. And the only way to move on the earth was to create the Faerie mist, which only happened in certain conditions.

  Or if summoned by a Witch.

  I whistled at Ivan's creation. Hand tooled leather cover, embossed with gold filigree along the trim, and in the center a magical symbol that made no sense to me. I pointed at it.

  Ivan shrugged. "I don't know if it means anything. I just made it up. Looks impressive, huh?"

  "Yeah it does." I placed the book in a velvet bag with shielding wards embroidered all over it. The bag was something Mom had me make when I was seven and the quality of the thread work definitely showed my age. But the magic woven into it was solid. Once I pulled the drawstring, the book became invisible.

  Ivan excused himself and went into my tiny spare bedroom and collapsed on the bed. I pulled a blanket over him and checked for fever. He was warm, but not alarmingly so. My magic, and Kyle's, pulled from different sources. Magic was like any other power generator—there had to be a way to fuel it.

  We weren't sure where Ivan's power came from. I still wasn't sure how his magic worked. From the look of his gray skin and the circles under his eyes, I assumed he'd used his own energy.

  "What the hell did you do to him?"

  I wasn't prepared to hear Dharma's voice so I jumped a little when I turned to face her. She stood at the door to the small bedroom and she'd also just entered my home without my permission. "He's fine, Dharma. He just needs rest. Now get out."

  "I am not leaving him."

  "Yes you are. This is my apartment. Mine. Not yours. Not get the hell out of my place, or I swear I'll banish you from the entire store!"

  She wanted to fight me. I could see it in her body movements. The way she balled her hands into fists and spread her feet just enough for a fighting stance. I could see the sparkle of blue around her fingers and became aware of her own Water Elemental around. Hers wasn't so different than mine, though her Undine's tale was much less decorative. And I'm pretty sure it had her face.

  "Don't fight me, Dharma. Ivan's fine. I had him do me a favor. He's done it before. What he needs right now is rest. So go."

  "I want to stay with him."

  "Not up here." I moved to stand in front of her and without even calling them, all of my Elementals manifested, facing her. "Give him time to sleep. Uninterrupted."

  She looked at my Elementals and then gave me a KILL! look. After a few seconds she turned and headed to the stairs. "You have a visitor," was all she said as she headed down.

  Another visitor? Great. Just what I didn't need. I closed the door to the bedroom, shoved the bag with the book in it into my backpack, and then pushed the pack under my table. Grey met me at the steps and we went down them.

  Bastien stood just inside the door to the shop, on the break room side. He was dressed in his usual shirt, jacket, ridiculously tight jeans and boots. He was letting his beard grow along his jaw and the whole package looked inviting. But I wasn't in the mood. "Bastien—"

  "Chérie, please just listen to me," he held up his hands. "It's become serious. Regine hasn't eaten or slept in over a day. She wants you."

  I felt bad for the little Regine, but I didn't know what I could do about nightmares. I needed to get everyone together so we could find this Cairn, set up a trap, and call Brendi to show her the book and let her sense the Arcane in it. "Bastien, I just don't have the time—"

  "It's not just the pup, chérie. It's happening to most of my pack. You shut us out, but they have called out to you. We've had mate attack mate, fights that have no purpose. It's like some kind of diable is attacking us."

  Wait a minute. "Everyone's having these nightmares?"

  "Oui."

  Dharma stepped away from the stove where she put on another kettle of water. "And your people are fighting each other? Like one accusing the other of things?"

  Bastien nodded his head. "Even I have had a few problems. I thought I had faced the Alpha that would unseat me, and I attacked, but I discovered I'd attacked my uncle. Luckily, I didn't kill him."

  Dharma looked at me. "Worst fears."

  She and I nodded and said in unison, "Boggarts." Apparently, Ivan had shared his and Kyle's little mishap that morning with Cordelia.

  "Mr. LeBlanc, do you have a Cairn in your woods?" Dharma asked.

  "Je sais pa, m'selle," he looked back at me. He didn't know. "You will come with me. Now."

  * * *

  It took a bit of convincing, but Bastien consented to all of us accompanying him into his pack land, with the promise that I'd keep my link to the pack open. That way the pack would know Bastien was with me and we weren't all strangers. I would have preferred one of us remained at the shop—because I was starting to worry about the bank account. Crwys had made a hefty deposit at the beginning of the month, but after bills were paid, that usually drifted into the scary double digits.

  Dharma, Ivan (against mine and Dharma's wishes) and Grey piled into Dharma's white Gremlin (you gotta be kidding me) while I rode on the back of Bastien's motorcycle. I didn't even know he had one since the only thing I'd seen him drive was a van. The bike was a Harley. I wasn't sure of the make and model but it looked good under him. He handed me a red helmet, donned a black one, and we wove around pre-Mardi Gras late night traffic in the direction of Pontchartrain.

  To say where Bastien's pack lived would be hard, since I wasn't sure of the land myself. And it was night; pitch black outside once we left the city lights. I knew the pack's land was out past Arden's Gypsy Gardens, just inside the Bayou Sauvage National Wildlife Refuge. But once we neared Blind Lagoon, we pulled off the main road and onto a side, dirt road made up of little more than ruts in the path.

  I smacked Bastien's back when he maneuvered around a chain between two posts blocking the road, visible in the bike's headlight. The bike could get around it, but the Gremlin couldn't. I looked back to see Ivan and the others get out of the car as we retreated.

  Mom!

  I know. Just hold on. You need to see the baby without interference from anyone else.

  I narrowed my eyes behind the helmet's faceplate. You knew Bastien was going to kidnap me?

  Grey's sigh was loud and I heard it echo as she switched to talking to me through the pack's link.

  That didn't help my mood. Or my anxiety. Crwys was being held and tortured somewhere in Alfheim, and I had to find a way to bring him back into my world. If I didn't find a Cairn on the other end of this sidetrack, I was gonna be pissed.

  The bike continued speeding down a small path, through puddles of mud that splashed up on my boots and my jeans. Just when I thought we'd never get there, Bastien turned the bike down a well-hidden path and we came upon what looked like some ki
nd of compound in the middle of nowhere. There were maybe a dozen nice cabins, a center well and smoothed dirt pathways. Everything was lit by a string of lights that draped from one cabin to the next. I had no idea where they were getting their electricity, but the whole set up was impressive.

  And I might have been more awed if I wasn't hangry, dirty, muddy and ready to stab Bastien in the back.

  Once the bike stopped, I hopped off before he could lower the kickstand, ripped the helmet off and threw it at his head. Luckily, he was still wearing his own damn helmet or I might have put a dent in his thick skull. "Lady Darksome! What the hell are you thinking? We can't leave my friends back there." I resettled my backpack, actually considering taking it off and smacking him around with it.

  Bastien sat on his bike, the expressionless helmet facing me. The one I'd tossed remained on the ground as members of his pack came out of the circle of nicely built log cabins. I recognized a few faces from our previous adventure, but others—I might recognize their wolf forms better.

  Bastien finally removed his helmet and raked his fingers through his red hair. "Your friends are safe, chérie. No harm will come to them in these woods."

  The crack of gunfire interrupted my response and pretty much destroyed Bastien's credibility on the safety statement. I felt and heard the whiz of something fly past my head really fast. I went down just as Bastien leapt off his bike. He landed on all fours—paws, that is. His bike? Not so much. It went over in a painful crunch noise.

  Bastien placed his red wolf form between me and the others. What I noticed was the reaction of the pack. They were huddled against trees and bushes, looking around for the gunman. Or person.

  The link came to life in my head with a jumble of thoughts, everyone trying to talk over the other until finally Bastien quieted them down with a mental growl.

 

 

 

 

  Matthew? I didn't think I'd met him. And why would he even think Bastien would bring me to kill him. Bastien was perfectly capable of maiming and killing all by himself.