Legend of the Ir'Indicti 5 - Destroyer

by Connie Suttle

  DESTROYER

  Legend of the Ir'Indicti, Book 5

  CONNIE SUTTLE

  The Author's contact information may be found at the end of this book.

  For Walter, Joe, Sarah S. and Lee D.

  Thank you so much!

  And for Ashten and Tristen—welcome to the world!

  Destroyer, copyright © 2012, by Connie Suttle

  All rights reserved

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters and incidents portrayed within its pages are purely fictitious and a product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  This book, whole or in part, MAY NOT be copied or reproduced by electronic or mechanical means (including photocopying or the implementation of any type of storage or retrieval system) without the express written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.

  Other books by Connie Suttle

  (Blood Destiny Series)

  Blood Wager

  Blood Passage

  Blood Sense

  Blood Domination

  Blood Royal

  Blood Queen

  Blood Rebellion

  Blood War

  Blood Redemption

  Blood Reunion

  (Legend of the Ir'Indicti Series)

  Bumble

  Shadowed

  Target

  Vendetta

  Destroyer

  (High Demon Series)

  Demon Lost

  Demon Revealed

  Demon's King

  Demon's Quest*

  Demon's Revenge*

  Demon's Dream*

  *Forthcoming

  Chapter 1

  "An earthquake measuring eight point six on the Richter scale has been reported from a very localized area of Quebec," the newscaster announced as Winkler spoke on his cell with Matt Michaels. The television was merely noise in the background as Matt reported that more than twenty Elemaiya had been killed in the old Chicago sewers; mostly by vampires. The Elemaiya had a reason to be afraid of vampires; they could move faster than most Elemaiya could think to relocate or defend themselves.

  "Only minor injuries," Matt said. "I am more than happy with the results."

  "I've got bad news on this end," Winkler said, "the kid has disappeared again and this time he took Salidar DeLuca with him. We can't find either boy. I was hoping you'd seen him, even though I'd ground him if he showed up there."

  "He wasn't here—not that we saw, anyway. There's no evidence."

  "I've got all of mine out looking in the likely places, and Andy is checking to see if he's using his debit card anywhere. That's how we found him the last time."

  "Wait, what am I thinking? Hold on a minute," Matt yelled at someone to get a trace on Ashe's watch. "He was wearing the watch, wasn't he?" Matt asked.

  "Yeah. Last time we saw him, he had it on," Winkler confirmed.

  "Got it, sir," Winkler heard the voice from somewhere near Matt. "Mr. Michaels, that signal is coming from Quebec. Right where the earthquake happened."

  "Earthquake?" Winkler and Matt Michaels chorused.

  * * *

  "Young one, do not fret, he isn't dead." Griffin, the tall, mysterious stranger knelt beside Ashe's limp body as Sali shivered and attempted to locate a number on his cell. The phone wasn't getting reception.

  "Are you sure? I can't wake him up," Sali moaned, dropping onto the grass again. He'd been trying to wake Ashe for what seemed a very long time.

  "He used up every bit of energy he had to force the Elemaiya to leave," Griffin said gently. "Here, help me get him up. Providing transportation usually doesn't count as interference. Usually." A comforting smile played about Griffin's mouth.

  "But," Sali said before he disappeared from Quebec and reappeared inside Winkler's kitchen, causing Winkler to jump and curse loudly.

  "Calm down, he's just unconscious. You might be, too, if you'd just caused an earthquake and kept it from spreading past a half-mile radius," Griffin laid Ashe's body on the large kitchen island. "He'll be hungry when he wakes." Griffin disappeared.

  "Get that nurse on the phone," Winkler barked at Trace who skidded into the kitchen. Trace made the call while Sali went to a cabinet in Winkler's kitchen, pulled out a glass, filled it with cold water and dumped it in Ashe's face. Ashe woke, sputtering and coughing, water dripping from his face and hair as he attempted to sit up.

  "Whoa, kid," Winkler helped Ashe sit up when he saw how shaky Ashe actually was. "Come on, I have it on good authority that you're starving or something. Salidar, call your father and tell him you're safe and sound. Then I want you to tell me exactly what you two have been doing."

  * * *

  Ashe finished two protein drinks on the way to the restaurant. Trajan and Ace met Winkler, Trace and both boys in the parking lot of Pasquale's, a steak and seafood restaurant on the south end of Port Aransas. They'd decided to give Victoria's a wide berth since Adele was working.

  "Kid, I never thought I'd see anybody who could eat more than a werewolf," Winkler spoke quietly as Ashe devoured a prime rib with a plate of spaghetti.

  "Mr. Winkler, I thought I was going to pass out before all of them left."

  "Who?"

  "The Elemaiya," Sali answered for Ashe, who'd stuffed a bite of prime rib in his mouth. "They were all dressed for battle, Mr. Winkler. You should have seen it. The Roman army couldn't come close to that."

  "Going to war," Ashe mumbled around a mouth filled with food. "Only way I could stop them."

  "Why did you stop them, Ashe? I don't understand this." Winkler leaned back in his seat, confused by the entire incident. "We'd be better off if they killed each other."

  "Can't happen. Chain reaction," Ashe muttered, twirling spaghetti around his fork and raising it to his mouth.

  "Chain reaction?" Winkler was more confused than ever. "You're going to have to explain yourself, son."

  "Salidar," Marcus walked in with Marco close behind him. "I hear you went missing for a little while, and now I hear you had something to do with that earthquake in Canada." Marcus' voice held anger and his dark eyes narrowed as he frowned at Sali.

  "Dad, I didn't have anything to do with that," Sali tapped his chest with an index finger. "You'll have to ask Ashe about it."

  "Not telling you anything," Ashe mumbled and refused to talk. Marcus growled.

  "Marcus, take Sali and go, if that's why you're here," Winkler growled back. The full moon was too near for two Alpha werewolves to be at odds and in such close proximity. Trajan and Trace stood; ready to take on the Star Cove Packmaster. Marco pulled Marcus away and Sali slunk along behind them.

  "Awkward," Ashe said as Trace and Trajan sat down again. "Should have left Sali at home."

  "And perhaps you should have stayed home as well," Winkler snapped.

  Ashe looked up from his food and stared at the Dallas Packmaster. Winkler acted as the hidden Second for the Grand Master, but few knew it. Ashe was one of those few. "Mr. Winkler, you'll have to trust me on this. I had to go. I would have stopped Mr. Michaels if I could have. Neither of you know exactly what you're dealing with."

  "Do you know what we're dealing with?" Winkler tossed up a hand in disbelief.

  "A little better than I did," Ashe said, buttering a dinner roll and biting into it. "Mr. Michaels will likely be sorry he did what he did. He killed the Dark King's brother."

  "Ashe, you're not proving Marcus right, are you? You're not sympathizing with the—well, those people?" Winkler recalled at the last moment that he was in public and the waiter was on his way to refill iced tea glasses.

  "No, Mr. Winkler. I sympathize wit
h innocents. The Earth is filled with them, remember?"

  "Kid, I have a headache and you're talking in riddles. I'm not sure you know what you're saying right now," Winkler said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Finish your dinner and let's get out of here. I'll have the nurse check you over."

  "Suit yourself." Ashe shrugged and went back to his food.

  * * *

  "Could be a little anemic," the werewolf nurse looked Ashe over after they arrived in Star Cove. "But a few good meals should take care of that," he added. "With lots of protein and iron."

  "Mr. Winkler, I felt almost the same after the thing with the water," Ashe remarked while slipping on his shirt. The nurse had him take it off for the brief examination.

  "So what did you do, then?"

  "Well, it wasn't quite this bad, and I cleaned Betsy's out on chicken and dumplings." Ashe referred to the best diner in Cordell, Oklahoma. Winkler paid the nurse with a wad of cash and sent him out the door. He grinned and told Winkler to call anytime. Winkler just waved and shut the door behind the werewolf.

  "Now, young man, I want to ground you, but I'll trust you this time and accept that you somehow needed to be where you were. A little heads-up next time so we won't run around like scared rabbits?" Winkler lifted an eyebrow at Ashe.

  "I know. I'll try not to worry you next time."

  "Sounds good. This isn't the best thing, so close to the full moon," Trajan patted Ashe's back. "Man, I thought we'd lost you and Sali both."

  "Trajan, I'll do my best to send mindspeech next time," Ashe climbed off the barstool at the island. "I'm really tired and I'd like to go to bed, now."

  "Yeah, get some rest, kid. They're holding Hayes' service in the morning. Did you want to go?" Winkler asked.

  "I don't know. What do Hayes' parents want?"

  "I think they want all his classmates there, to see him off," Winkler sighed. "This is hitting them terribly hard."

  "Yeah. I know," Ashe muttered.

  "Don't dwell on that—we understand that you can't be in two places at once."

  "I wish I could," Ashe said. "Goodnight, Mr. Winkler. Trajan. Trace." Ashe walked toward his bedroom that doubled as an office. If things went as planned, the move to the beach house would happen Friday after the service for Hayes, which would be held deep in Shirley Walker's groves.

  * * *

  "Salidar, tell me exactly what you saw," Marcus demanded. Denise stood with Marco inside the DeLuca kitchen, watching as Marcus grilled his youngest son. Sali squirmed uncomfortably. Finally, deciding that Winkler had likely gotten the same information from Ashe, Sali described everything he'd witnessed in Canada.

  "Ashe can't have caused an earthquake. That's just not plausible," Marcus raked fingers through his dark hair. "It was just a coincidence."

  "Even the authorities are saying they don't know why it didn't affect any other area—something that big would have," Denise ventured to say.

  "Denise, don't interrupt," Marcus growled. Denise kept quiet after that.

  * * *

  "You're saying the boy did this?" Wlodek spoke with Edmond over the phone. Edmond and Hector had listened outside the DeLuca home while Marcus questioned Sali. Eavesdropping was the best way to get information that might have stayed with the werewolves, otherwise.

  "That's what the young werewolf says. He insists that Ashe Evans transported him to Quebec, kept him shielded—that was his term—shielded, walked through an entire camp of Elemaiya without raising a stir and then appeared between two armies. The werewolf boy says Ashe lowered the shields of those armies and talked with the leaders from both sides before an attack was precipitated by one side. Ashe then caused the earthquake to stop the battle and send all of them on their way."

  "Quite fascinating," Wlodek murmured. "You're sure of what you heard?"

  "I have an excellent memory, Honored One. Those words are verbatim."

  "Why is he still so young?" Wlodek whispered. "We have so many uses for him."

  "As you say, Honored One," Edmond said respectfully. "Casimir can make the turn immediately if you ask it. We will take the boy while he sleeps. According to the young werewolf, Ashe is quite exhausted after the episode in Canada."

  "No doubt," Wlodek observed dryly. "Nevertheless, he is still underage and the risks of turning at this point are too great. Perhaps if we have need of him, we can use his father to bring him to us. If strong vampires supervise him, he should do as he is bid. Especially under compulsion."

  "I imagine that Hancock and his sire might keep him in line."

  "Just as I was thinking," Wlodek agreed. "But we are speaking in hypotheticals at the moment, are we not? Keep a watch on the boy. He will be more than useful to us in the future."

  "We will do as you say, Honored One." Wlodek hung up first. Edmond hit the end call on his cell more slowly.

  * * *

  Ashe had used up what little energy he had to become mist and hover over Edmond's head. Mentally sighing, he misted back to his bedroom where an illusion of him lay as if sleeping on his cot. "Messed up, messed up, messed up," he pounded his pillow before flopping down on it with a frustrated sigh.

  * * *

  Rabis watched as the Queen paced. She muttered profanities under her breath as she trod the same ground repeatedly. Rabis wisely kept quiet. He knew, if she didn't, what might have happened had Parlethis taken the Dark King's crown and handed it to Friesianna. The two could never be used together. Never. But the Queen refused to heed the H'Morr's warnings and lusted after Baltis' crown anyway, just as Baltis coveted hers. Long ago, Rabis and his father, Saldis, had foreseen what might happen if both crowns were used together. It would be disastrous. Saldis had given his life for his son Rabis, so Friesianna would never know the true author of the H'Morr. Rabis kept his head bowed as if in deference to his Queen while she continued her rant. Parlethis, too, kept quiet. Rabis knew it was the only thing keeping Parlethis' head and body connected at the moment.

  "Contact our spies," Friesianna snapped after stopping in mid-pace. "See if they have discovered Baltis' new hiding place."

  "Yes, my Queen." Parlethis was happy to escape her presence intact.

  * * *

  Baltis was more than displeased and three of his captains lay dead at his feet. They'd ran like frightened hares when the ground began to shake. Baltis punished them as they deserved. His brother was dead. Baltis had no idea where the humans had taken his brother's body—Wildrif was still weeping over the ordeal at the lake and could tell him nothing. Laridael had brought the quarter-blood along, although he was also mourning his lost brother. Laridael's twin, Liridael, had died beside the Prince.

  "Come, Laridael, we must plot revenge against the humans for our brothers' deaths," Baltis said. Laridael nodded and obediently followed his King through the sands toward the King's tent.

  * * *

  "Kid, you may have to slow down a little," Winkler grinned as Ashe finished off his second ham steak for breakfast.

  "I'm good now," Ashe sighed, leaning back in his seat. The breakfast restaurant in Star Cove served up good, plain fare seven days a week. Ashe's cell rang as he watched Winkler finish a cup of coffee. "Sal, what is it?" Ashe said without looking at the phone before answering.

  "Just wondering if you're coming to the service, dude," Sali replied.

  "I'm coming," Ashe replied.

  "We'll bring him," Trajan offered, knowing Sali would hear.

  "Good. See you there," Sali said and hung up. Ashe's cell rang again before he could return it to his pocket.

  "Randy?" Ashe said when he answered the call—again without looking.

  "Ashe, are you available for dinner tonight? I'd like you to meet Sara." Ashe looked up at Winkler who nodded slightly.

  "Yeah. What time?"

  "Around seven?" Randy asked. "Her plane gets in at five, so that will give us enough time to check her into the hotel and meet somewhere. I'll let you know where, later."

  "Sounds good," Ashe said and h
ung up. This time the cell did go into his pocket.

  * * *

  "Just wear something comfortable," Winkler said later. "No shorts," he called out as Ashe went to dress for Hayes' service. Winkler drove to Shirley Walker's groves, something he normally let someone else do for him. Ace had come along and went to stand immediately with Wynn the moment they arrived at the designated spot. Ashe, his light-brown hair blown by the breeze rustling through groves of grapefruit trees, followed Winkler, Trace and Trajan to a grassy clearing lying nearly in the center of Shirley's extensive orchards. The carved wooden coffin was already there, with several werewolves standing vigil.

  "It's tradition if you die a hero," Trace whispered to Ashe. "Six werewolves stand guard through the night."

  "Then James Johnson should have had the same," Ashe said quietly.

  "Ashe, what do you know?" Winkler dropped back to walk beside his ward.

  "I can't explain it right now," Ashe replied. "Maybe later."

  * * *

  Mr. Dodd, the history teacher, delivered the eulogy. He spoke about sacrifice and lives taken too soon. Ashe watched Buck and his mother, who stood next to Hayes' parents. Not once did Adele glance in his direction.

  * * *

  "I'm sorry I didn't get here sooner," Ashe informed the prisoner. Somehow, Chad and Jeremy had imprisoned the man in an old, abandoned bunker left over from the early nineteen-sixties nuclear war scare. Ashe didn't expect the man to be forthcoming about his true nature. Not immediately, anyway.

  Lifting his eyes, Lewis Sharpe shivered inside his six-by-six foot prison. The young werewolf and shapeshifter had dumped his drugged body in the cage two weeks earlier. Their visits had been sporadic to provide food and water, and he'd been without for three days. He still couldn't understand how a shifter had collaborated with a werewolf against one of their own.