I scanned the fire crews, concentrating my search around the chiefs coordinating the doomed battle. “I don’t see Ignis.”
Anima’s voice drew both of our attentions to the bronze statuette with arms and wings outstretched. “Ignis is engaged with another Veil breach. Vitae has instructed me to remind you that you are forbidden from showing yourself.”
I glanced at the news crews, then Terrance and then the figurine. It would be difficult, but surely two divine phoenixes could rewrite the wafers before word spread.
Unless the Sidhe are waiting in the wings to create a bevy of Fae Kissed. Is that what this is all about? Manipulating me into giving them converts?
“I can’t. I don’t know how to stop this without transmoging.”
“If you do not, these flames will not cease,” Terrance said. “The power behind them could consume the city.”
“Then how do you expect me to contend with that kind of power?”
Terrance smiled. “By employing mind and essence without exiting my truck.”
How in Creation do I do that?
A quarter of the southern block was aflame. Efforts to prevent fire from spreading to the office building kept the fire at bay, but the magical flames would not be denied forever. Hoses snaked through the dark, eventually latching onto hydrants to feed their sprays.
If I could get to the hydrants, I might be able to dope the supply lines.
The corners of my lips drooped.
I’d have to get to all of them, and Terrance won’t let me leave the truck.
Another news van pulled to a stop. A flash of its headlights caught in mist spraying out of a hydrant connection valve. A rainbow flashed to life over the carpet of fog and smoke. It vanished a moment later when the van’s headlights cut out.
Mist?
I scanned hydrant positions around us.
“What brightens your expression?” Terrance asked.
“Hush, I’m thinking.”
Enough combined fog, mist and smoke surrounded the firefighters to camouflage an additional mist. Moving a thin cloud of my essence shouldn’t take anywhere near the strength of moving enough water to extinguish the flames themselves.
If I can hold together a mist where water emerges from the nozzles, I might be able to enchant the whole.
I set a hand on my lap and cupped my palm. My offhand drew out a Karambit hilt. I bore down on my insides, squeezing a palmful of essence into my hand in the same way as I extruded the blade in my other hand.
I glanced at Terrance.
The intensity of his regard unsettled me.
I can’t show him any weakness.
I hate severing my essence. That my life forces me to painfully cut away pieces of myself isn’t exactly a great endorsement for life as a shield. I kept my cringe internal and sliced my watery knife along the open palm. A painful tearing severed the water from my body. A check ensured Terrance hadn’t noticed my squeamishness as I raised my hand into the gap between door and truck.
This would be easier if Caelum were here.
I blew softly, my breath tingling along the essence.
A shimmering mist lifted off of my hand into the night. My breath didn’t propel the cloud as much as offer me a mental lever. I dampened the glow around my satellite self, willed it dispersed enough to float, and concentrated on moving the vapor to the nearest hose team.
The focus required made the short journey feel like miles. Eventually, the cloud’s edge cut across a hose stream. The blow of sudden pressure against me knocked the wind from my lungs. I grunted, gathering the scattered mist for another attempt.
Permeable, but strong, a mesh of mist.
My second attempt hit as hard as the first but braced for the impact I managed to slide my essence around the nozzle’s mouth. I closed my eyes against the pressure of the pounding water and willed my essence to gift its magical nature to the countless gallons shooting out toward the fire.
Power washed out of me, stealing my breath. My energy plummeted at an alarming rate.
“It’s working, little sister.”
The pride in his voice made me grin.
Under attack by enchanted water, the formerly defiant fire weakened and fled. I pushed more energy out to my severed self and braced myself for more pain.
Extrude.
Sever.
Launch and shepherd the new cloud to another hose team.
Repeat.
Each subsequent team I helped fought the inferno further from Terrance’s truck. With each mist, controlling them grew harder and more exhausting. Inserting the third into a stream nearly cost me all of them.
I pushed another puddle of essence into my palm.
“Do not over extend yourself.”
I spoke through gritted teeth. “You told me I was more powerful than I realized.”
“Muscles are not made with a single trip to the gym.”
I glared at him and severed the fourth bit of essence. It took a lot of power and all of my will to move the last mist into position, but I’d be damned if I was going to let him think me weak as well as lazy.
An hour later, I slumped back against the truck seats.
The firefighters had gained the upper hand.
I’d done it.
“Well done, little sister.” Terrance patted my leg.
I wanted to chastise him for his condescension, but the relatively small accomplishment had sapped all of my strength.
Terrance probably didn’t mean it that way anyway.
“Anima, mortal authorities can handle things from here.”
“Great work, Terra,” Vitae said.
“Aquaylae deserves all the credit,” Terrance said. “She thwarted this assault all on her own.”
Both of us watched the statue as we awaited the next message relayed through the angel network. None came.
Ungrateful bastard.
Terrance turned over the engine.
I pushed strength into my voice. “We’re not staying? What if the faerie responsible reverses what I’ve done?”
“I don’t think he’ll reveal himself to us. He’s had his fun. Getting caught at mischief would undermine any reputation garnered from his attack.”
I frowned.
Terrance’s warm laugh returned. “You’ve dealt little with more powerful faeries in your years here, haven’t you?”
“You guys wouldn’t let me.” Anger fueled my turn toward him. “Vitae insists I’m inferior while you and Ignis insist on taking care of the hard stuff without me.”
Terrance frowned. After several streets worth of silence, his mouth twisted in mild disgust. “You know, I believe you are right. We do share fault in this.”
Someone else owning up shouldn’t have felt quite so good. The sudden rush of warmth bolstered me. My thoughts turned to the shelter fire.
How many animals died or were carried away and why?
“Terrance? Why would Wyldfae steal animals?”
“Besides for a snack?”
“They’ve taken a lot of animals for just food,” I said. “There’s more going on.”
Terrance snatched glances at me while keeping an eye on the growing traffic. “Back at the fire, your elegant solution proved both your capabilities and your intelligence. It seems fitting to leave you to work out this problem for yourself.”
“I know Vitae doesn’t think the animals are important, but what if what’s going on is bigger than it appears? What if I don’t figure it out before it’s too late?”
Terrance offered me a smile as he pulled his truck into a Waffle House. “Well then, little sister, if you think you need help rather than handling this on your own, I am glad to offer you any assistance you need while we eat. You need to replenish your strength.”
Terrance forced me to eat before returning me home. We didn’t come up with any answers before he dropped me off at my Jahammer, but his support made me feel more capable of working out the problem. As the sun usurped his lover’s control, Te
rrance wished me a good rest, pulled his truck around and headed back toward the city proper.
I turned toward the three-story walk-up, but hesitated. The faerie had destroyed a lot of my DeKalb seeds and several of the others. I could set out an invitation for Ralein, but there was another, faster way to acquire his skills. All I had to do was find the Goblin Market.
I’ll get answers about the animal thefts too, maybe even rescue some.
I dropped onto my motorcycle’s seat. “Ani, do we know the present location of the Goblin Market?”
“You do not need to visit the Goblin Market,” Vitae said.
“Why’re you being an ass, Vitae? I’m just trying to do my duty.”
Silence.
“No, Quayla,” Anima said. “We don’t know the Market’s location right now.”
Caelum will know.
I started my bike.
“What are your intentions,” Vitae asked.
“I’m going to work,” I snapped.
“You are not permitted to associate with the faerie without supervision,” Vitae said.
Screw you too, Vitae.
The statue glowered at me.
Traffic had my thumbs drumming in minutes. Lingering anger and rude drivers raised my stress levels until I made an impromptu stop at a small local bakery. An éclair filled with heavenly cream, a hot Chai and three muffins distracted me from stress and sweetened my disposition. I stopped once to gift a last muffin to a homeless woman with cloth-wrapped feet, before arriving at Circlestone’s corporate headquarters.
Circlestone corporate campus spread across a two-by-two block section of Atlanta, just north of downtown. Office buildings rose along the sidewalks, leaving the center for parking and a large park. I parked in a visitor space and crossed the park to the headquarters’ entry foyer.
Wafers in business attire drifted across marble floors decorated with Circlestone’s logo. They trod carelessly across the thick outer circle without stepping into the inner ring. Double lines split the inner circle, connecting the outer ring to an inner hub. Within the wheel’s hub eight stones the size of grave markers surrounded a square of stone. Between the spokes eight larger stones mimicked those at the center.
A long line of mortals queued up for fresh coffee, checking email on their phones as they waited impatiently but queued so as not to stand inside the corporate logo.
I crossed to the information desk.
A woman with curlier hair than what had come with my new body smiled up at me. “May I help you?”
“Quayla Buckler here to see Caelum Kite.”
“The purpose of your visit?”
“We’re family.”
Building security extended her hand. “If you would please fill out the visitor’s log for me, I’ll message Mister Kite.”
A woman’s voice caressed my ears. The tone floated on a rich texture normally associated with sultry movie stars. “We’ll make an exception this time.”
I shifted from the confused expression of the lady behind the counter to the confident smile of the luxurious voice’s owner. An expensive skirt suit of seafoam green clung to her willowing but robust figure.
Wow.
Eyes the deep blue of Crater Lake in fall glanced self-consciously away. The fair woman seemed to master her confidence, pushing dark almost blue hair out of her face and raising intelligent eyes to meet my own. “Caelum is tied up in a meeting at the moment. He has another with Mister Heffernan directly after.”
I chewed my lip.
I needed Caelum’s help and getting to know the beautiful woman better wouldn’t be bad either...if I hadn’t been in a happy relationship with Dylan. “Oh, I guess there’s no reason to sign in if he’s too busy to see me.”
“Nonsense, if you’re willing to wait in Mister Heffernan’s office, you’ll be able to catch a quick word while Caelum awaits the boss.”
“All right, I’m Quayla.”
“I’m Viviane.” The woman beamed. “I overheard you introduce yourself to security, and of course I know your name from Caelum’s stories. Are you two dating?”
“No,” I said. “Siblings of a sort.”
Viviane led me to an elevator. Other employees stepped from our way, warmly acknowledging the attractive woman. Once inside the car, Viviane waved a security badge near a sensor and pressed the button for the top floor.
“Quayla is a beautiful name, what’s its origin?” Viviane asked.
I shrugged. “I know it’s old.”
“Caelum didn’t know either. He said he’d ask, well, I assume one of your parents.”
“Father doesn’t communicate with us directly very often.”
Viviane smiled. “Family is never easy. So, what do you do, Quayla?”
“I’m just a florist.”
“That’s right. You did the table bouquets for this week’s fundraiser. They were really beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
“You know, I’m just Mister Heffernan’s assistant, but having your company on retainer sounds like good business, and we’d get to see you more often.”
Butterflies fluttered through my stomach.
We?
“Ponds de Leon Flowers isn’t mine,” I lied. “I just work there, do arrangements and such.”
Viviane smiled. “Then maybe we should steal you.”
The elevator deposited us on an uppermost floor, though not the very top as I’d assumed. Viviane led me to glass doors, scanning her security badge once more.
I stepped through the held doors. A long mahogany desk stretched across the far wall beneath the Circlestone logo. A robust blonde looked up from the desk’s left half, showing off dimples. “You don’t look like Mister Heffernan’s next appointment.”
“No, but close. This is Quayla, Caelum’s sister,” Viviane said.
The blonde leaned forward. “Really?”
A chirp wiped the hungry look from the blonde’s expression. She leaned back, tapping her ear. “Mister Heffernan’s office.”
I glanced around for an unobtrusive seat. Freestanding glass islands haloed the reception area, each containing Celtic, Norse or Pict artwork. More art rested beneath the glass tabletops that separated comfortable-looking furniture. I settled into a chair which tried to swallow me in soft cushions.
“Quayla?” Viviane touched a small device on her belt. The twin mahogany doors to the inner office opened outward. “Coming?”
I checked the blonde for objection.
“No sir, we don’t have any appointment openings left this year.” She rolled her eyes, glanced at me and tilted her head toward the open door. “I can put you on our waiting list.”
I struggled out of the chair and hurried to follow, entering a colossal office that stole my breath.
“I think it’s a bit ostentatious personally,” Viviane said. “Dunham could’ve gotten a decent portrait of a lake or maybe an ocean view and called the décor complete.”
Priceless ancient weapons hung every few feet. Equally expensive art and open display stands cradling artifacts broke up the sparse executive space.
“Caelum will be with you in a few minutes. Make yourself at home.” Viviane stepped through a hidden door behind a large desk.
The door clicked shut before I could object. I stood uncertain and unmoving. Beneath my feet, a thick Egyptian rug brightened the grey marble tiling the space.
Well, she told me to make myself at home. So long as I don’t break anything, looking around can’t hurt.
I eased toward the nearest artifacts, conscious of my still foreign balance.
A spoked metal wheel engraved with Celtic runes and pictograms drew my fingers. A soft tingle shot up my arms when I touched it, startling me. I jerked my fingers away.
A Celtic Wheel of the Year, but why does old magic linger within the wheel?
Markings to match the Wheel formed a circle on the slab behind the artifact. My eyes shifted to the wall behind the desk then back to the Wheel and accompanying ring.
Together, they seemed the inspiration for Circlestone’s logo. Even more symbols were arranged around the composite logo.
Symbolism gave way to runes as my fingers crossed to a second slab. Seven burial markers dominated the stone. One stood sentry at their arranged pinnacle. Two trios formed squat triangles below and to either side of their sentry, almost forming a vague mountain range. My fingers traced the runes carved into the topmost.
Father, water, unbalance and death. An ancestor?
I touched the other six in turn, unable to resist their eerie draw.
Brother, water, unbalance and death?
My eyes shot to the topmost, confirming the surprising epiphany.
You were all murdered, drowned.
My fingers traipsed to the water rune.
A deep basso brought me up short. “Captivating, aren’t they?”
I snatched my hand back. “I’m sorry, Viviane told me to wait here for Caelum, I didn’t mean—”
Circlestone’s CEO loomed larger than even Terrance, with matching warm brown eyes that drove into me like spikes. A black sports coat and evergreen dress shirt slimmed the massive man without hiding his muscular build.
Voice, appearance, even dress all proclaim his power. There’s warmth in his eyes though and a lust for life. Sharing this man’s life would mean constant competition for his attention.
His open collar exposed a golden ring with matching chain resting on a bed of Celtic tattoos the dark of woad and thick curls of chest hair.
His laugh proved as powerful as the rest of him. “Stone’s remarkably resilient, not that wind or water can’t wear it down over time. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Quayla. I’m Dunham Heffernan.”
“I didn’t tell you my name.”
Dunham tapped his watch. “Viviane texted me you were here.”
“Oh, right.”
“Caelum will be here in a moment, but I wanted to thank you personally for what you’ve done for me.”
I blinked at him.
“The flowers?” He seated himself on the edge of his desk. “Feel free to keep exploring. I should probably donate them, but I just can’t bear to part with them.”
I turned back to the burial markers. “I can understand. Where did you come by this?”
“I inherited it.”
“Really?” I continued down the wall to a third display. A series of five standing stones rested against the wall atop matching base stones. Runes of a different style formed a wide base circle then wove their way up the standing stone’s face. “Were you related to them?”
Ashes of Raging Water Page 12
