by Mia Marshall
But I hadn’t, not really. I remembered my mother, always hovering, always keeping my aunts from giving me extended hugs or sitting too close to me on the sofa. In college, I’d dated, but never another elemental who might interpret my heat as indicative of an illicit fiery heritage. Hell, a month ago I hadn’t even known it was possible to be what I was. There was no reason for someone to think I was anything other than the water I’d been raised to be.
“And the fuel,” I asked, seeing the final piece clearly. “That’s the anger, isn’t it?”
She nodded. “It’s always there, in all of us. Just a small, constantly burning flame of rage. We don’t even notice it most of the time, until we want to access it. And then...” She held out both fists, indicating first one, then the other. “Rage, plus magic.” She brought her fists together, and fire burst forth as they met.
“Can I learn to do that? To only access it when I want to?” She turned a concerned face to me, and I continued hurriedly, “And then use that control to never, ever call it.”
Her face was solemn, her voice quiet. “I don’t know, Aidan. I don’t know.”
“Don’t move.”
It took a moment to realize the voice was coming from the yard below and was directed at us. It took a fraction of a second longer to identify the sound of a shotgun being racked. I assumed that was also aimed in our direction.
Despite the command, we both deemed it wise to raise our hands slowly into the air. “Because I think it bears repeating,” I muttered, “one, longevity’s still not the same as immortality, and two, we really fucking need to keep Simon around.”
A few minutes later, we were in a cool garage, perched on a pair of beat-up metal folding chairs. We were not physically restrained in any way, because it wasn’t necessary. The large gun pointed at us was sufficient deterrent, should we feel the desire to sit somewhere else.
I’d debated our options during our awkward climb from the roof down to the backyard, and again during the short march through the side yard into the cool garage attached to the main house. I had nothing.
Sera’s fire was absolutely useless in close proximity to gunpowder. I could fill the gun barrel with water, but as my entire knowledge of firearms came from 80s action films, I had no idea what that would achieve. For the moment, I had to trust that a couple of fit, carefully made-up suburban wives would explore tidier options before resorting to homicide.
“Who sent you?” Sera’s head jerked toward the woman asking the questions. She was a bronzed Amazon goddess, her body seeming to consist of nothing but long red hair, lean muscles, and spray tan, her beauty as carefully constructed as Carmen’s was wild and natural. Carmen stood behind this unfamiliar woman with her arms crossed. The remainder of the book club had been asked to wait inside, which might be a bad sign. When people started removing potential witnesses, there was reason to be nervous.
Sera, of course, refused to answer, leaving a gaping silence I rushed to fill. “You know, it seems like the first question a harmless book club would ask might be ‘who are you,’ or perhaps ‘why the hell were you on my roof’?” I barely had time to appreciate my own retort before my head snapped back and pain shot through my jaw.
Fire came instantly to attention, hissing and crackling, demanding release. It shot upwards along my spine, warming my flesh and bone with its touch and coiling tightly around my mind. My vision narrowed until I only saw a woman standing before me, begging to be set alight. My palms tingled, and heat worked its way into my fingers, seeking release. For a moment, I vanished completely, and the other self took over. I felt fire’s grin spread across my face, its sharp gaze peer through my eyes.
It was pure, joyous power, and it was terrifying.
The woman standing before me took a small step backwards, and Carmen tensed. No one ever seemed to fear my water side, but the first glimpse of fire brought these women to attention, even if they didn’t understand why.
The pain in my jaw subsided to a dull throb, and I began to remember myself. I could almost hear Vivian’s voice, whispering that I needed to find balance. With great concentration, I forced the seething mass into submission before my fingers could start sparking and give me away. It resisted, whimpering and demanding freedom, and I took several slow breaths before it reluctantly quieted. The fire withdrew slowly, whispering promises for our future the whole way.
I knew I should worry about this, but at the moment I had a good reason for avoidance. I figured I’d deal with the shotgun and current crazy bitch first, dual magics and future crazy bitch second.
“That wasn’t necessary.” I rubbed my still-sore jaw and suspected I’d need to spend some time in the water to avoid an impressive bruise.
She spoke carefully, watching me the whole time. “You were trespassing on my property. I had every right to shoot you. Be grateful I’m a reasonable woman.”
“Let me have a moment, Diane.” Carmen’s voice was quiet, not intended for our ears, but it was also calm and altogether lacking any hint of menace. “I don’t believe they’re here for you.” Diane met her eyes, and a long, silent conversation passed between the two women.
Diane stepped back, the gun still trained on us. Carmen turned another metal chair and straddled it backwards, folding her arms across the top. It was a strange juxtaposition, her tidy sweater set and chinos against the informal pose. “Alone,” she clarified. “They’re two young women, Diane. What do you think they could do to me?” She placed a tiny emphasis on that last word.
Again, that look passed between them. Carmen appeared confident and certain, while Diane looked almost bitter. I didn’t understand it, but I didn’t expect to feel much empathy for the woman who punched me in the mouth. She left the garage slowly, walking backwards the entire way, daring us to give her any excuse to empty the shotgun. We remained still until she was in the house, then turned to Carmen. With gunpowder removed from the immediate equation, Sera’s powers were back in play, but it seemed polite to at least hear Carmen out before we burned down her friend’s house.
“Did Will ask you to follow me?” she asked. Her voice was level and calm, revealing no emotion. She was neither friendly nor antagonistic. Hell, she barely seemed curious. She let her eyelids drop just a fraction, giving them a hooded look that she fixed on us, unblinking.
“You know Will?” I stalled.
She merely tilted her head and watched me. She blinked once, twice, and her pupils constricted and expanded in the space of a heartbeat. I glanced at Sera, staring at Carmen with recognition in her eyes. She’d seen it, too.
“You’re a shifter,” I said. She’d only shown us the barest hint of a slit pupil, but I knew those eyes. I saw them every time I looked at Simon. I wondered whether he was unable or unwilling to disguise all his feline traits, because in the space of a moment Carmen once again looked completely human. Of course, now that I knew what she was, it was obvious she moved with the grace and efficiency of movement I’d only seen among shifters. “Does Will know?”
She said nothing, but her look suggested she thought I was at least six different kinds of stupid.
I could only think of one animal that had those eyes. “You’re a cat.”
She sniffed and sat up straighter. I’d seen Simon do the same thing whenever he felt we were underestimating him. “In the most general sense.”
I looked at her perfectly maintained body and carefully applied eyeliner and swore I wouldn’t say it. It was offensive and stupid and unnecessary. I bit my tongue and repeated the vow. It did no good. “Please, please tell me you’re a cougar.”
Beside me, Sera made a series of sputtering noises that indicated she either really wanted to laugh or really wanted to smack me.
Carmen’s look suggested I’d been promoted from stupid to stupid and irritating. I was on a roll. “Mountain lion.” Her tone was disdainful. I knew better than to ask a shifter what animal they were—it was considered a significant breach of etiquette—but, as usual, the faulty filt
er between my brain and mouth trumped manners. I suspected Carmen only answered me out of a sense of pride.
“But you have a dog.”
“As a pet.”
On behalf of dog lovers the world over, I chose not to follow that line of inquiry any further. “Is everyone...?” I vaguely waved toward the door.
She shook her head. “Diane is my sister, but she didn’t get the gene. It’s how she can stand to live in this place.” Her sneer seemed to encompass the entirety of the planned community.
I thought of her home, every bit the suburban monstrosity as the one we currently occupied. She guessed the direction of my thoughts. “I married a man with more money than taste. But it does back up to the forest, so it was worth fighting for in the divorce. And I admit, I quite enjoy the spa bathtub and walk-in closets.”
I nodded, unsure where to go from there. I glanced at Sera, letting her know I was done babbling and she was free to step in any time. She rolled her eyes at me, but took her cue. “We’re looking for the missing MacMahon boy,” she said.
Carmen nodded. “Will said as much when he visited last night. Seemed to think my daughter might know something. I guess you thought the same thing. I don’t know what Brandon said or why, but Pamela’s not dating James anymore. I thought it best for the relationship to end.”
“Well,” Sera said, “it’s a good thing children always do what their parents tell them to do.” She delivered this line without a hint of sarcasm, but Carmen got the underlying message. Her gaze snapped to Sera, the one person in the world who could easily beat a cat in a staring contest.
“Nothing you’ve said so far explains why you were on my sister’s roof.” Carmen’s voice was low and menacing. She was running out of patience.
I hurried to intervene. “Someone from your house was at the lake the last time James was seen.”
Her look was contemplative, and she put the pieces together faster than I’d expected. “The clothes,” she said slowly. “I knew that cat had to be a shifter. A clever one, too. And working with an elemental? That is... unusual.” Her tone suggested she was thinking a different, less flattering adjective. “You must have read the sweat. I’ve heard of that, but never seen it. Interesting.” She studied me, her cat eyes cataloging my every physical trait, and I feared she was debating how my earlier loss of control fit into her knowledge of water elementals.
I gazed blandly back at her. I might not want to talk to my mother again this century, but I was still grateful I looked so much like her. Physically, I didn’t bear a single stamp of my fire side. Other than that brief moment when my eyes turned to flint and chaos flickered across my face, there was no reason for her to guess what I really was.
“You know a lot about elemental powers,” I said.
“I know a lot in general.” Her distracted tone kept the words from sounding arrogant. “But it wasn’t me at the lake. Thank you for sharing this information with me. May I have a day to discuss this with my daughters? I’ll inform Will if I learn anything relevant.” It was a formal request, made for the sake of politeness, and not one she expected us to refuse. We nodded, seeing no other option.
“Good.” She stood, and we began to do the same. The meeting, or whatever it was, appeared to be over. “I did not say you could leave. Diane will want words with you. You intruded on her house, after all.”
I briefly considered making a break for it, but a quick glance at Carmen’s quads convinced me I’d be caught instantly. Plus, she had claws and an extremely cunning look on her face. We sat down slowly, choosing to play this scene out.
“Of course, I am sure I could smooth things over with Diane. If...” She let her voice trail off.
“What do you want?” Sera’s question was blunt, her face annoyed.
“That shifter who visited my home. I would like to speak to him.”
I snuck a look at Sera. I wasn’t much in the habit of using my friends as bargaining chips, but neither did I fancy confronting Diane and her large gun again. “Why?”
She waved off my suspicious tone. “He’s not in any trouble, and I have no desire to hurt him. I simply want to meet this new cat in town.”
“We can’t speak for him,” I said carefully.
“You don’t need to. Simply convey the message. He’s free to make his own choices. Of course he is. He’s a cat. I only want you to give him that choice.”
It seemed a harmless enough trade, but something in her narrowed gaze caused my stomach to feel like lead. “We’ll give him the choice.”
“And strongly suggest he choose to ignore it,” Sera added.
“Fair enough.” Carmen smiled, a tight, close-lipped smile. “Then we are done here.” Without another word, she walked into the house, likely to explain why she’d freed the hostages and then to vote on next month’s book selection.
“Out of here?” I muttered.
Sera didn’t reply. She was too busy bolting for the side door. I wasted no time following, and moments later we were a few hundred feet down the road and jumping into the Mustang. She gazed around her at rows of perfect houses and even lawns, and grinned a small, evil grin. She rolled down the windows, stuck The Clash in her stereo, and cranked the volume up to eleven as we made our noisy escape from suburbia.
CHAPTER 6
We stopped for lunch at a roadside diner on our way back to Truckee. It had torn, vinyl booths from which yellow stuffing sprang exuberantly and waitresses who stopped adapting to current fashion trends in the mid 70s.
Even more importantly, it served pancakes all day long. It was the perfect palate cleanser after the sterile, controlled suburbs, and Sera and I both relaxed into our seats. A thick stack of carbohydrates dripping with fat and sugar has a magic all its own, a mystical power that allowed us to forget our cares for an hour.
While we waited for our food, I pulled water from the air. Holding it out of sight under the table, I quietly healed the bruise developing on my face, hiding all evidence of Diane’s earlier assault. I saw no reason for anyone to know just how easily Sera and I’d been rendered mostly helpless.
It wasn’t until we felt sated and finally free of all suburban cooties that we returned to thoughts of the missing shifter. Sera checked her phone, reminding me to do the same.
I’d lived ten years without any portable electronic devices, and I’d yet to settle into the modern trend of consulting them on an hourly basis. I was surprised to see I’d missed several calls while being held hostage by the world’s most insane book club hostess, most of them from Mac. “Eenie meenie miney mo,” I muttered. At Sera’s questioning eyebrow, I explained, “I’m trying to figure out who should yell at me first. Mac or Carmichael.”
“Oh, let me call Carmichael. Please.” That settled it. I called the agent directly.
“What part of ‘liaison’ requires you to climb roofs in Reno?” he said by way of greeting.
“Are you tracking us?” I did my best to sound indignant. When you have no actual defense, there’s no choice but to apologize or go on the offensive. The second option involved less groveling.
“I don’t need to. I have an alert set up for Sera’s car, and it seems that, wherever the Mustang appears, some helpful neighbor phones in a crime. Today, we had reports of reckless driving in Truckee and the aforementioned roof climbing. The second call was quickly canceled by the homeowners, by the way.”
“Of course it was. We were liaising. They realized that and opted not to have us arrested.” I sounded so reasonable. I’d become a convincing actress any day now, I was sure.
“You liaise from the roof?” Or perhaps it was still a work in progress.
“Would you believe they were slate elementals?” Sera held out her hand, demanding the phone. I swatted it away, repeatedly. “Anyway, everything’s fine. We got some information, and no one’s threatened to sue the FBI on our behalf once today. We’ll drop by the office later. Or tomorrow. Maybe the day after.”
There was a long, ominous pause. �
��We really need to draft a job description for you two.”
“Can’t,” I said cheerily. “Off the books, remember? Hey, Sera wants to speak with you.” He muttered several incomprehensible words that sounded less than flattering, then hung up. “Looks like he got disconnected.”
The corners of her mouth slid a fraction upward. Whatever she might say, she was enjoying the game with Carmichael. “Where now?”
Our options were limited. “Back to Carmen’s? She might still be in Reno, and Pamela ought to be home from school soon. We could talk to her before her mom tells her what she’s supposed to say.”
She nodded toward my phone. “You going to call Mac first?”
I thought of all the times he’d ignored me lately and decided turnabout was fair play. “He can wait to yell at me.” I turned off my phone, ensuring I stuck to my plan. I knew that if I saw his number on my caller ID, I wouldn’t be able to resist answering.
We drove at a casual pace back to Carmen’s home, which in Sera’s case meant only ten miles above the stated speed limit. She even allowed me to turn down her music, so we were both relaxed and at ease when we pulled to a stop outside Carmen’s behemoth of a house.
Our calm state came to a screeching halt when we saw a Bronco and an Explorer parked in the driveway. Two large bear shifters stood between them, conferring. They watched us walk toward them, their faces dark and serious.
“You should answer your phone,” said Mac by way of greeting.
I muttered some vague combination of excuse and apology.
“What’s going on?” asked Sera, studying the front of the house. From our vantage point, the house looked exactly as it did the day before.
Will answered evenly, his matter-of-fact tone a marked contrast to his cloudy expression. “It’s possible Pamela’s been missing for two days. Two nights ago, she told her mother she was staying with a human friend while that girl’s mother was out of town. That friend just called, looking for her. She had no idea Pamela was supposed to be with her.”
