“Excuse me,” I said to a student walking into the room, “can you tell me what class this is?”
“Eastern European History,” the guy responded.
“Is that the professor?”
“Yeah. Doctor Bonato.”
“Thanks.”
I turned away and left the building, then strolled over to the History Department offices a short distance away. Finding the main office, I went in and picked up a course catalogue.
“May I help you?” a young woman sitting at the receptionist’s desk asked.
“I’m interested in taking a class next semester,” I said. “Eastern European History with Doctor Bonato.”
“Oh, that class is only offered in the spring,” she said.
“Is he teaching other classes in the fall?”
“I think so, but the class schedule isn’t set for next fall, yet. Doctor Bonato is new this year, and I’m not sure what he’ll be teaching in the fall.”
I thanked her and left. At a café off campus, I found a table and used my phone to Google Doctor Nicolo Bonato. The picture was the man I had met. He was listed as a professor at Ca’ Foscari University in Venice, Italy, until the previous year.
Venice was the headquarters of the Knights Magica. Too damned many coincidences.
After musing for a while about who I should tell, I called Frankie Jones.
“Are you busy this afternoon?” I asked when she answered.
“I’m always busy. What’s up?”
“You know those thugs that Shawna and I had a run in with the other night?”
“Yeah?”
“I’ve got some additional information.”
“I can stop by this evening,” Frankie said.
“I’m up at the university. I can drop by your office on my way home.”
“Sounds good.”
I took the train into downtown and hiked over to the courthouse. Her secretary waved me toward Frankie’s office, barely looking up from her computer.
Frankie pushed a stack of papers she was working on off to the side and stood when I entered the room. At six feet tall, plus high heels, and adding in another two or three inches for her short afro, she towered over me. Usually when I saw her, she was dressed semi-casually, but that day she wore a peach-colored business suit.
“Come on in. I’ve got about half an hour, then I’m due in court,” she said. “Your playmates from the other night are trying to bond out, and we’re trying to prevent it. Cindy said you identified them as being members of the Order of Knights Magica. I looked them up, and what I found was an obscure semi-monastic order of the Universal Church. Why do you think these guys are part of that?”
I told her what I knew about the Knights, then I told her about Bonato’s visit to Rosie’s and what I learned at the university.
“Interesting,” she said when I finished. “If he’s teaching this semester, then he’s been here since the beginning of January. You really think he’s with the Knights Magica?”
“I’d bet on it. And considering his age, I’d bet he’s high up in the organization. According to his biography that I found online, he’s sixty years old, and he looks it. But you and I both know how old a mage who looks sixty really is. I found a picture of his father, same name, from World War One, and he looks exactly the same, only younger.”
She nodded. Frankie looked to be in her thirties, but she’d once said something about seeing the Jefferson Airplane play in Golden Gate Park in the 1960s.
“So, what you’re guessing is that those fools who attacked you are the tip of the iceberg,” Frankie said. “Wonderful.”
“Frankie, one of the Fae told me that they think the Knights may be connected to the disruptions in the ley lines.”
She stared at me, her expression not changing for a long time. Finally, she said, “I’m going to show you something that I probably shouldn’t. It’s from the Arcane Investigations Section at the FBI.”
A minute before, I had never suspected the existence of an Arcane Investigations Section anywhere but possibly as part of a UFO fruitcake society. Definitely not the FBI.
She went to a filing cabinet and unlocked it. Pulling several pieces of paper out of a folder, she walked back to her desk and laid the pages in front of me. On official FBI stationary was an alert about the Order of Knights Magica. It said that the group was known to Interpol, but in the past few months, it had spread its operations to North America. Most of what the three pages revealed was information about the Knights that I already knew.
“That’s because the Knights have figured out that something happened to the Illuminati,” I said after I finished reading. “They’re moving to fill the void.”
Frankie handed me several more pages. “You have such interesting observations. Maybe I should try bartending one night a week.”
On the same letterhead was a report speculating on the possible disappearance of the Illuminati. Evidently, the FBI had managed to subvert a few members of the Order, who had divulged a lot of their secrets. Then their most important spy had suddenly disappeared. A number of members he had identified had also disappeared. Others reported that all lines of communication had been severed. I recognized a couple of the names.
It was fascinating reading. When I finished, I looked up at Frankie and handed her the papers.
“You said, ‘something happened to the Illuminati,’” she said. “You wouldn’t happen to know what that was, would you?”
I shrugged. “I’m just a kid. A bartender. How would I know about the world’s deepest secrets?” I leaned forward. “Frankie, those Hunters we saw here last fall and winter were running from something. They didn’t know what happened or what they were running from. Now the Knights Magica—the Illuminati’s foremost enemy—are moving into the Illuminati’s stronghold.” I shrugged again.
During the previous week, a number of high-profile government and corporate leaders had died. The U.S. Secretary of State died in a plane crash. The head of the World Bank suffered a heart attack. The chairman of one of the largest investment banks in New York died in a boating accident. A member of Congress died in a car crash, and another died when he was mugged coming out of a restaurant in Washington, D.C. Ordinarily, I wouldn’t have cared, but I knew that all of them were members of the Order of the Illuminati. Too many accidents to be a coincidence.
The FBI letter that Frankie showed me mentioned two of those deaths as being ‘suspicious.’
The evening after I met with Frankie, the big story on the news was the assassination of the Prelate of the Universal Church. Six of the Swiss Guards who provided his protection were killed in the attack, along with two archbishops and several lower-ranking Church officials. Dozens more were injured in the bombing.
I stared at the TV in shock as the Archbishop of Venice announced to the world the Prelate’s death. The men surrounding him were not members of the Swiss Guard but wore the uniform of the Knights Magica.
Lizzy and Trevor came into the bar shortly after that. Trevor hadn’t been around much recently.
“How’s the hand?” I asked Trevor. He had lost one hand to a Hunter a couple months before.
“Okay. My doctor tells me that as soon as I stop hating it, I’ll learn to love it.” Trevor and I had dated, but that was long past. Jolene told me that he recently broke up with the girl who took my place, and was dating a new girl. I stopped trying to keep up with his love life, and we had settled in as friends.
“Have you got your computers with you?” I asked when they sat down at the bar.
“I have mine,” Lizzy said. I knew that she always carried her laptop with her.
“Of course,” Trevor said. “Michaela would have a cow if I couldn’t respond immediately to someone forgetting their password.”
“Can you look up suspicious deaths among high-profile government and corporate leaders since the first of the year?” I asked.
Both hauled out their laptops and set them on the bar as I got their dr
inks and put in their dinner orders. Rosie’s had excellent wi-fi, and Sam encouraged students and others to come in and use it—and eat and drink while surfing the net.
Over the next couple of hours, I saw my friends put their heads together several times and show each other their screens. When the dinner rush tapered off, I went to check with them.
“Is this what you’re looking for?” Trevor asked, turning his laptop so I could see the screen.
He had put together a list of forty-five men and women from all over the world. Twenty were in North and South America, twenty more in Europe, and five in the Middle East. As I scanned the list, I saw government officials from more than a dozen countries. The rest were top officers of corporations, philanthropic organizations, or research foundations. From my time working for Master Benedict, I recognized eighteen names as being members of the Illuminati.
“Yeah. That’s what I’m looking for.”
Trevor raised an eyebrow, and Lizzy propped her chin on her hand, giving me a wide-eyed invitation to explain.
Gesturing to the TV in the back room, I said, “The guy who seems to be in charge at the Holy City is the Archbishop of Venice.”
Trevor shrugged. Lizzy said, “And?”
“He’s a member of the Order of Knights Magica, a rival of the Illuminati.”
“And the people on this list?” Trevor asked.
“At least twenty-three of them were Illuminati.”
“How interesting,” he said.
“The Well of Magic,” Lizzy said, her voice almost a whisper.
I nodded. Trevor gave both of us a puzzled look.
“You explain,” I said to Lizzy, and walked away to take a drink order from one of the waitresses.
I wondered how many accidents had happened to enemies of the Knights who weren’t as prominent as the people on Trevor’s list.
Chapter 7
I started paying attention to the news, in particular looking for people of influence who suffered untimely deaths. The governments in Washington and London seemed to have a sudden rash of vacancies, as did the ranks of those working for the European Union in Brussels.
In Westport, the reports of murdered vampires and werewolves increased. Three Universal priests were killed in an automobile accident. Unless one was paranoid about the Knights, the events might seem to be unconnected.
Oriel stopped by the bar on Sunday evening and flirted with me. I assumed that’s what it was. He was very direct.
“Is this the night you’re taking me home?” he asked.
“I hadn’t planned on it.”
“In affairs of the heart, you should be more spontaneous.”
“I prefer to consider whether a decision is wise beforehand, rather than have regrets afterward.”
“When you get older, you’ll find that you regret things you didn’t do more than those you did.”
“Says the ancient philosopher who wants to get in my pants.”
He gave me a grin so lascivious that my mouth went dry. Without another word, he reached for a menu.
I tried to ignore him as much as I could while taking his order, and remembering how he affected me when he touched me, I stayed out of his reach.
After he finished his meal, he asked, “You don’t work tomorrow night, do you?”
“No, I work Thursday through Sunday.”
“Go to dinner with me tomorrow evening.”
“Oh? Where?”
“In the Village. I’ll come by and pick you up at seven.”
And that would leave me at his mercy to get home. “I can drive out there.”
“That would be unchivalrous. I’ll pick you up.”
Oriel stood and fished in his pocket. Then he put a silver pendant on a chain on the bar. I leaned over to look and saw it was set with a star ruby cabochon the size of my thumbnail.
“What is that?” I asked.
He grinned. “Your tip. It’s a synthetic ruby.”
I peered at it closely.
“The ruby came from the sword pommel of a member of the Knights Magica,” he said. “We think it’s imbued with magic, but a kind of magic I can’t wield. Roisin says that it feels similar to Fae magic, but it isn’t Fae. We thought you might be able to figure it out.”
When I picked the ruby up, I could feel the magic in it, but I couldn’t pull on the magic to use for anything. I looked up and saw Oriel going out the door. So much for bargaining about dinner and who was driving. It struck me that he hadn’t asked where to pick me up.
And where did he get a Knight’s sword? After thinking about it for a minute, I wanted to slap myself. If the Fae thought the Knights Magica were a threat, they would act, and human qualms wouldn’t affect them. I assumed the Knight who supplied the ruby hadn’t survived their investigation. The Fae didn’t believe in coincidences, and they didn’t give me that ruby because they thought I was cute. They expected me to do something with it.
The next break I got, I called Cindy Mackle.
“Cindy, did you recover the swords of those guys you arrested the other night?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Were there red rubies set in the pommels?”
“Yes, there were. Star rubies.”
“Do you think I could see them?”
“They’re in evidence. You’d have to ask Frankie.”
“Okay, thanks.”
It was too late to call Frankie, but I put it on my to-do list for the next morning. In the meantime, I put the necklace around my neck because I couldn’t figure out what else to do with it.
“Frankie, was there anything unusual about the swords your people confiscated from those guys who attacked Shawna and me?” I asked when I called her the following morning.
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen them. Hang on a minute. I have pictures of them here.”
I waited and heard her shuffling papers around. “Yes, I’ve got the pictures. The swords are all the same. Sort of unusual.”
“And they all have a red gemstone set in the hilt?”
“Yes, they all do. Why?”
“Did anyone mention the swords being spelled?”
“Nope. Let me check, and I’ll give you a call back.”
She called me twenty minutes later. “Yes, the stones look like star rubies, and they’re all spelled.”
“I had a visit by a Fae last night,” I said. “They think those stones have something to do with the disruption in the ley lines.”
“Interesting. I’ll have one of the swords brought up to my office.”
“I have one of the stones,” I told her, “but I can’t figure out what the magic is or what it does. Do you suppose Dan Bailey might be able to figure it out?” As a spirit mage, Dan’s magic was very different than that of most mages. Air, Fire, Earth, Water, and Spirit were the four magical elements. Bailey’s was the rarest affinity, even rarer than a mage with no affinity. Me.
“I’ll have him take a look.”
I took my tea out to the balcony. Wrapped in a magical shield that kept me warm, I could appreciate the beauty of the frost on the edges of the creek. A girl about my age jogged by with a Basset hound. Cute. An older man strolled by. It was quiet and serene, so much different than most of my life. I sat out there and read the news on my phone until a local story waved a red flag.
The next call I made was to my computer expert. “Trevor, did you notice the story in the news about three Universal priests killed in a car wreck last week?”
“No, I didn’t see it. Here in Westport?”
“Yeah. Do you think you could do a search and find out if there have been an unusual number of priests die recently? Not just here, but anywhere.”
“Is this tied to the search you asked Lizzy and me to do the other night?”
“Possibly.”
He sighed. “Sure. I don’t know if I’ll have time today, but I can get to it tonight.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
I was at the grocery store when he calle
d back a couple of hours later.
“Damn, Erin. Someone has it out for the Universal Church. Since the Prelate was assassinated, almost a thousand clergy—priests, bishops, deacons, including seven archbishops—have died. Everything from car wrecks, food poisonings, heart attacks, and almost any kind of illness you can think of. Way beyond what statistics show as a normal mortality rate. North and South America, Europe, Africa, and Australasia. At least two dozen of them were murdered. Another hundred or so are considered suspicious deaths by the local police, but no one has been arrested. You think this is all connected?”
“I’m beginning to think so. I don’t like coincidences. No one has taken credit for the bombing at the Holy City.”
“Well, I took the initiative to expand the search. You can add almost that many deaths from other religions. Prominent clergy and especially theologians.” He paused, and I thought he was expecting a response from me. Then he said, “You’ve heard about all the vampire and shifter killings here in town, right?”
“Yeah. What does Michaela say about those?” Michaela employed primarily vampires and shifters in her waste disposal business.
“She’s advising all her employees and their families to travel in groups. The packs have sent out a general warning to all their members, and Gabriel Laurent is pretty riled up about it.”
“Well, even the vampire Master of the City can’t be totally uninvolved. We live in interesting times, don’t we?”
Trevor laughed. “We certainly do.”
Although I was nervous about my date with Oriel, I dutifully showered and washed my hair, then put on an A-line pleated yellow cocktail dress, low heels, and makeup. When it came time to choose jewelry to wear, I dithered, staring at the pendant he had given me. I wondered who worked the silver setting, and whether it was Oriel. The filigree was exquisite. In the end, I slipped its chain around my neck and added a pair of dangly garnet earrings.
Well of Magic: An Urban Fantasy (Rosie O'Grady's Paranormal Bar and Grill Book 4) Page 5
