I sipped the now-lukewarm coffee and wondered what sanctions would be considered fair trade for what I’d endured. Maybe dragging the Synod members behind Rene’s shrimp trawler through gator-infested waters? That would certainly make me feel better.
“Also, Randolph left out an important part of his story.” Instead of dissipating, Alex’s anger level continued to rise. “About talking DJ into bonding with him.”
Rand’s jaw clenched and I choked on a gasp. Alex had lost his freaking mind. Zrakovi obviously didn’t know I’d been exposed to the loup-garou virus, which was the only reason I’d agreed to the bonding. Once he knew, he’d easily deduce Jake’s involvement. The Elders would eventually learn it from the elves, but not tonight. We needed time to figure out a way to protect Jake.
“It was a preemptive move, for political reasons,” I said, giving Alex a warning look.
“I explained to DJ that my clan is in jeopardy,” Rand said quickly. “Our numbers are small, for a variety of reasons. Having an alliance with her will give us leverage when I take my seat on the Synod, probably in a matter of months. In turn, it will strengthen the alliance between the wizards and elves. There are those among the elven people who would see our long truce broken, or at least compromised.”
He rested a hand on Zrakovi’s arm, and I felt the shiver of his will . . . he was using elven magic on an Elder!
I whipped my gaze to Zrakovi’s face, looking for a sign of elven mind control, and kicked at Rand under the table. He jerked his hand back as the toe of my shoe made hard contact with his shin on the second try. He yelled in my head: That hurt!
Good.
“Interesting.” Zrakovi shook his head, probably to rid his mind of elven cobwebs. “It could provide a bridge between our people, which we need since relations are already strained over border negotiations. What I don’t understand, Drusilla, is why you agreed. Was Mr. Randolph forthcoming about what a bonding means in his world?”
I didn’t dare look at Alex. “I understand it’s permanent. But for us it will be a business partnership, not a m-marriage.” The word would barely come out, and I wished my mental communication skills extended to Alex so I could remind him again why I’d done this. “It’s merely a partnership of convenience.”
The room’s silence was palpable, full of weight and as electrically charged as a super-cell thunderstorm. The screech of Alex’s chair legs across the floor was jarring. “I can’t deal with anything else tonight. DJ, I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Willem, I’ll be sending you a report on the Axeman case tomorrow as well.”
The back door slammed before I could think of words to stop him. He knew my reasons were sound, that it was the best of all horrible options. I needed to give him time to cool off and think things through, and trust in his feelings.
“We’re going to have to revisit this, to talk about the implications of a wizard-elf bond, but I have to deal with the kidnapping and regression first.” Zrakovi pushed his chair back. “DJ, I’ll let you know what measures the Elders will take against the Synod. Mr. Randolph, while I appreciate that you brought Drusilla home at physical risk to yourself, she would never have been taken without your subterfuge. You’ll be hearing from us soon as well, bonding or no bonding.”
I turned to look at Rand, who’d settled back in his chair looking pleased with himself until Zrakovi’s last words. Now his mouth settled into a horizontal line. His voice in my head was petulant: I might need your help with him since you won’t let me influence him.
I turned away. Quince Randolph had come between Eugenie and me. He was threatening to come between Alex and me. If he thought I’d intercede on his behalf with the Elders, he’d bonded himself to the wrong wizard.
As soon as Zrakovi’s feet sounded on the stairwell and his footsteps caused the ceiling overhead to creak, Rand broke the silence. “Are you okay, Dru?”
“Hm. Let’s see. I’ve been kidnapped, emotionally violated, and forced by circumstance to bond myself for life to a treacherous, lying elf. Does that sound okay to you?”
“This is going to be a good thing—you’ll see.” Rand reached across the table to take my hand, but I pulled it away.
I left him in the kitchen and walked into the living room, looking around for Charlie. Sure enough, the staff had followed me from the bedroom and was propped against the wall near the guest room doorway. The only thing elves had ever been good for: making that staff.
“If you think this bonding thing gives you house privileges, you’re out of your elven mind.” I left Charlie where he was and slumped into my white lawn chair. Life had been so simple a week ago. No loup-garou threat. No bonded elf. No undead serial killer. And I’d had furniture.
Rand sat cross-legged on the floor near my feet. “We need to talk. I want to clarify some of the things that will happen because of the bond.”
A hysterical laugh escaped as I envisioned calling my grandmother in Alabama and telling her she had an elf in the family. She didn’t even want a wizard in the family. “If you tell me that—oops—you were lying when you said this deal didn’t have to be consummated physically, you can forget it.”
Rand reached up and rested a hand on my knee. I reached down and zapped him with a burst of my magic. I could do that much without the staff.
“Ow.” He shook his fingers, trying to jolt the feeling back into them. “I didn’t realize you were so violent.”
“We aren’t in Elf heim any longer, buddy. Keep your hands to yourself.” He’d think violent if he sprung any more nasty surprises on me.
“To answer your question, no more consummation is necessary—that’s what the blood exchange was for. But sex will be amazing with us. You’ll change your mind. One of the side effects of the bonding is increased attraction to each other.”
Oh my God. He was delusional. “You’re forgetting one thing. I hate you.”
He smiled. “You’re just angry right now. I think you’re beautiful.”
I looked at Rand. He was flat-out gorgeous, blackening eye and all. “I think you’re beautiful too, but it doesn’t change the fact that I hate you. Go home. I need some sleep.”
“Should I move in with you? Or would you rather move in with me?”
Oh, hell no. “Go home.”
He ignored me. Again. “Tell me about the Axeman. Maybe I can help.”
I stood up and walked around the living room, making my circuitous way to the guest room door where my friend Charlie waited. “Well, it looks like I’m his target now. He was acting on his own at first, but he seems to have come under the control of a necromancer. Can elves do necromancy?” I didn’t have that many personal enemies, but every member of the Synod qualified.
Rand shook his head. “That’s dark wizard’s magic. Our magic has nothing to do with the dead.”
No, they only dealt in mental torture. “Then I don’t see how you can help. I do appreciate that you found a way to fix the loup- garou problem, but I’m done for tonight. Go home.”
“I think I should stay here and protect—”
I grabbed Charlie and whipped around, pointing it at him. “Get the hell out of my house.”
He rose to his feet in a fluid, graceful motion. “You wouldn’t.”
“No?” I fed energy into the staff and sent out a short blast of fire that melted one leg of my lawn chair. Adrian would have been so proud—that was exactly what I was aiming for. Rand yelped and jumped aside. “Are you insane?”
I assumed my sweetest voice. “Get used to it, honey. Now, please go home.”
He shook his head as he stalked to the front door. “Obviously, you need to calm down. If you need me, you only have to think something at me.”
“Stay out of my head.”
“Night, Dru.”
And don’t call me Dru! I shouted at him mentally after he closed the door behind him.
I shuffled into the small office/guest room, pulling aside the curtain to see if the lights were on in Alex’s house. It was dark. With
Jake absent, he might go to the Gator to unwind and calm down. At least I hope he calmed down.
Sebastian leapt onto the daybed and I sat next to him, scratching behind his black ears. He purred and head-butted my arm. I must be giving off a really pathetic vibe.
“Got good news and bad news, my friend.” He fixed his crossed blue eyes on me and flicked an ear. “Good news is, I’m not going to turn into a wolf and have you for Sunday dinner. Bad news is, you’ve got a new daddy and he’s an elf.”
CHAPTER 25
Damage control is hard to do from a deep freeze, and both Alex and Eugenie had me on ice. I’d left voice mails for both of them as soon as I woke up mid-morning. Adrian had left a message that he was tied up in Edinburgh for at least another day, so I had time on my hands.
I was sick to death of thinking about the annoying elf across the street, and totally out of ideas on the Axeman case. The Times-Pic reporter was still in critical condition and hadn’t regained consciousness. I wasn’t sure what help she could be, anyway. I knew who the attacker was. I just didn’t know the motive of his necromantic accomplice.
What I could do with my free morning was work on my skills with Charlie. I never knew when I might need to melt another lawn chair.
Two hours later, I parked the Pathfinder in my semi-hidden spot near the back side of Six Flags, with Rene Delachaise riding shotgun. Where the chaos of my life frustrated Alex, it amused Rene. Plus, he needed a distraction. Deer and small game–hunting season was in full swing, but he’d always hunted with Robert. He needed an escape from his grief over his lost twin.
So he’d readily agreed to hang out and play bodyguard again. While I hated being the little woman who called on the guy to protect her, it would be stupid to ignore the fact that I was being targeted by a maniac. Rene wasn’t a big guy, but he was smart, strong, and enjoyed a good fight.
I left my backpack in the SUV and enacted a camouflage charm in case anyone drove by. We slipped inside the fence, and Rene whistled as he took in the surreal view. “First time I been out here, wizard. This is some crazy shit.”
“That pretty much describes my life these days.” I decided to practice first on Jean Lafitte’s Pirate Ship, then move to the shooting range figures. Rene sat on a bench to watch.
Aiming at the P in pirate, I channeled a small burst of my magic into the staff and promptly fell on my butt on the concrete. A hole burned in what was now Jean Lafitte’s irate Ship. If there hadn’t been black smoke still pouring from the former P, I’d have attributed the thick red cable of fire that had zoomed from the tip of the staff to wishful thinking.
Rene walked over and pulled me to my feet. “That was pretty powerful stuff, babe. Is your magic getting stronger or is it because of your new husband?”
I’d told Rene about the bonding, figuring he’d be the person least likely to judge me. I’d been right; he laughed at me. A lot. Ridicule I could handle.
“The elf is not my husband, but yeah, I’m thinking the bonding has ramped up my ability to use the staff.” Not only had I hit my target, but I’d used very little of my own physical magic. It had been a play shot. When I melted the chair last night, it hadn’t been this effortless but maybe the bonding had taken a few hours to kick in.
Now I could kick some serious butt with this thing. Although a lifelong bond with Rand seemed a high price to pay for butt-kicking.
Rene tensed. “We got company, babe. You know that car?” A black sedan had stopped near the turnstiles, its windows tinted so dark I couldn’t see who sat inside. Kind of conservative for gangstas; kind of upscale for cops.
Whoever it was, we weren’t authorized to be here. “We better get back to the Pathfinder.”
I turned toward the fence, but after a few steps realized Rene hadn’t moved.
I turned to find him still watching the car. The passenger door of the sedan opened slowly, and a large, bulky figure emerged. It was a profile I’d seen a couple of days ago in my own library summoning circle. Except this time, the Axeman carried his ax.
“Shit, it’s the Axeman.” Rene finally realized we had a bigger problem than a trespassing fine. “Let’s go!”
We took off, but the killer moved with surprising speed for an oversize dead guy. I shot at him with the staff, but my aim was back to its normal awfulness. I’d never practiced shooting over my shoulder while running for my life.
Rene, however, was better prepared. He’d pulled a pistol from somewhere, stopped, and wheeled around long enough to fire two rounds. The Axeman shouted in anger and clutched his upper arm, but didn’t stop running.
“Come on!” Rene and I raced across the entrance to the midway, looking for a hiding place while, behind my eyes, a nonstop reel played of the blood-soaked bed in the reporter’s house. My stomach cramped as fear mixed with the gumbo we’d had for lunch.
If we could make him look for us, I could zap him with the staff from a safe position. Rene could shoot him again to slow him down and give me a good target.
“Over here.” Spotting an open door in the center of the flying chairs carousel, we darted for it and slipped inside. Rene pushed me behind him and tugged the metal door closed except for an inch so we could see out. The enclosure, once filled with the mechanical equipment that powered the ride, smelled of dried mold spores and rust, and I pinched my nose to avoid sneezing. My heart pounded so hard and fast it was visible in the erratic rise and fall of my sweater. If Rene was scared, he didn’t show it.
I held the staff to the side so I could shoot around Rene, and stilled when the Axeman walked past, just outside our hiding spot. Rene had his gun cocked and aimed at the opening. The Axeman stopped, and through the narrow slit, I saw his gaze roaming the park grounds where he’d last seen us. I held my breath. He turned to the left, then right, then looked directly at us.
I didn’t see him move. Suddenly, he was just there, ripping the metal door off its hinges and reaching inside, his fingers clutching for me over Rene—until the pistol fired again. The Axeman fell back, clutching his thigh.
Rene pulled me out of the machinery room. “Let’s go.” We ran about ten yards before I turned and fired the staff.
The Axeman had sat up and was staring at his leg wound, but managed to roll out of the way of my shot, falling between the seats that hung by heavy chains from the carousel’s top. An unholy screeching and explosion of smoke poured from the room where we’d been hiding, and the carousel creaked to life. I’d missed the Axeman but hit the flying chairs carousel. A warbling, tinny version of a jazzy old Louis Armstrong tune—I think it was “Basin Street Blues”—blasted from speakers at the top of the structure, and the carousel began to turn, the hanging chairs swaying around the Axeman as he stood up and stared at the ride, transfixed.
It was the music. That stuff about the jazz had been true.
Why hadn’t I put some of those downloads on my phone? This was my chance, so I took careful aim and fired again.
He turned just as the flames reached him, but howled in pain as they glanced off his arm. Most of the fire went into the carousel, but smoke rose from the sleeve of his coat. This time, the carousel ground to a stop and so did the music.
Rene and I ran again. At the pirate ship, I risked a look back. Shit. Who knew a guy that big could move so fast? He was halfway between us and the carousel, and gaining ground—
until he took an abrupt left turn. Where had he gone? As soon as we raced around the corner toward the Pathfinder, I had my answer. The Axeman had circled around us and now faced us from the other side. He was no mindless zombie; he’d positioned himself between us and the SUV. “Who the hell sent you? Why are you after me?” I kept the staff raised and pointed, backing away from him. In my peripheral vision, I saw Rene backing off at a different angle, his gun drawn. I should just zap him, but I wanted an answer to my questions.
The Axeman stopped, his dark, slicked-down hair not moving despite the breeze. His lips parted, his voice a hoarse whisper. “I don’t know w
hy, only that you have to be taken care of before the other wizard will let me go on with my real work.” “Who’s controlling you—what does he look like?” I took a step back and aimed the staff. If old Axel wasn’t going to be more helpful than this, I might as well fire.
Just as I sent another burst of energy into the staff, Rene fired another round and caught the Axeman in the shoulder with a bullet, dropping him to the ground. My thick, fiery rope went over his head.
An explosion behind the Axeman stopped all of us, and I stared in horror as one of my SUV’s side mirrors landed in the dirt near the killer’s feet. The rest of the Pathfinder had burst into flames.
I raised the staff again, but the Axeman was already climbing to his feet—could nothing stop this guy? “Draw him toward the tunnel and I’ll get behind him,” Rene shouted, so I ran, slipping into the first darkened storefront of the midway, one I’d seen earlier while looking for a hydromancy spot. The back wall of the building had a big hole in it, and the haunted tunnel lay adjacent.
I tripped over something in the gloom of the store, and fell to my knees. My hands landed on fur. Fur that squealed and ran across my fingers before moving farther into the shadows. Oh- my-God-rat. I’d landed on a freaking rat.
“Where are you, wizard?” The Axeman’s voice rasped near the entrance, and the blade of his ax cracked through what was left of the wooden doorframe. I fumbled in my makeshift potions belt and pulled out one of my fire charms. So far I hadn’t been close enough to the Axeman to use one of my premade concoctions, but that was about to change.
I scrambled to the back wall and propelled myself through the hole in the concrete structure, landing in the weeds behind the building. The staff rolled out of my hand, and I rolled after it, the whistle of air from the ax blade following me, along with chips of concrete. Through the opening, I tossed the open vial containing the charm, and heard a bellow of pain in response.
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