Arcane Solutions (Discord Jones)

by Gayla Drummond

  “Cordi!” Nick’s shout brought a wave of relief. Abruptly free, I sprawled to the floor as the man turned to face the shifter, and then he and Nick were trading fast, powerful blows. They knocked each other around the reception area, doing a thorough demolition job on the rest of the furniture.

  The boss was going to be pissed. He’d spent a mint, hiring an expensive interior designer from San Antonio to make everything soothing for clients.

  Each drag of air felt like fire burning down into my lungs. My eyes squeezed shut, but tears poured free anyway. A yelp from Nick made them shoot open, in time to see the man throw him face first through the two-inch thick glass of the doors.

  The shifter landed in the parking lot on his back, an avalanche of glass falling with him. Blood was suddenly everywhere, and I crawled forward, wheezing out his name.

  It drew the other’s attention back to me. When his black eyes focused on mine, pure survival instinct set in. I flung both hands out, and he flew backwards, through the broken doors, landing almost in the street.

  Nick was rolling over. Sparing a glance for me, he went after the man, who was already on his feet.

  Before they collided, Percy popped out of thin air. The parrot dived and dropped something. It hit the man in the face, breaking and splashing a faintly glowing liquid over him. He exploded into a cloud of black smoke and ash.

  The parrot screeched, circling the cloud. “Bad demon! No attacking Cordi!”

  Damn if I didn’t love that bird.

  Nick was standing still, watching the dissipating cloud. Somehow managing to get my feet under me, I limped out into the parking lot. My voice was a croak. “You okay?”

  He turned, showing a blood-streaked face embedded with bits of glass. Some slid free while we stared at each other, to make tiny sounds hitting the asphalt. His eyes were dark gold. “Nick?”

  “What the hell was that? Did Percy say it was a demon?” He grabbed hold of my left arm. “Are you all right?”

  “Battered but breathing.” It really hurt to talk. Kate’s low-slung, silver Italian sports car roared into the parking lot, brakes squealing as she spotted us. Her familiar landed on my shoulder. Rubbing his head against my cheek, he said, “Percy loves Cordi.”

  I ruffled his feathers with my free hand. “Love you too, bird brain.”

  Sirens wailed. People were staring from the entrances of other businesses on the street. Kate was on her cell phone as she left her car, hurrying toward us. More glass slipped from his skin, apparently escaping Nick’s notice. “I thought this place was warded.”

  “It is. Was.” Percy crooned something about ‘petite déesse’ in my ear.

  “Don’t just stand there, Maxwell. Get her inside,” Kate ordered as she reached us. “Now.”

  I was happy to have her take charge, wanting nothing more than to lie down and get busy healing. My face and throat were on fire, while my back felt like it had had an up close and personal encounter with a truck. One with a big brush guard installed, or maybe a semi.

  “Percy, get off of her. She’s injured.” The parrot hopped from my shoulder to hers without protest. Nick quickly obeyed, hustling me inside the destroyed reception area. He cleared debris off the couch with a sweep of his arm.

  “Here, Cordi. I’ll get some ice or something.”

  “Okay.” God, it hurt to talk. He scowled around the room, and disappeared from view. I closed my eyes, listening to Kate make another call, whispering in an agitated tone, and then she began dealing with the cops.

  The shifter was back, his fingertips skating over my abused flesh. His touch was so light I barely felt it. “You’re burned.”

  Opening my eyes, I watched him wrap a baggie of ice in a dishtowel. He arranged it on my throat, and bent to kiss my forehead. His face was covered in drying blood, but all of the glass damage looked to have healed. Cold leaked through, feeling wonderful. “I’ll go get another one for your cheek.”

  He was back with another makeshift cold pack in less than a minute, and gently pressed it to my cheek. A cop came over. “I need to ask some questions.”

  Nick didn’t even look at him. “Ask.”

  “What happened here?”

  The shifter described what he knew, but protested my answering any questions. I tried anyway, but my throat didn’t cooperate, and the cop waved away my croaked attempts. Mentioning demon ended the questioning. He offered to call for an ambulance, but Kate intervened. I decided beginning to heal my throat was a good idea.

  Nick dug out some of the decorative pillows to prop me up, so I had a great view of Whitehaven’s luxury SUV rolling over the curb and sidewalk to avoid the cop cars. The man himself appeared, smooth strides not hinting at any urgency as he walked toward the building.

  He paused outside the broken doors, glass crunching under his shoes. He glanced briefly at us before he scanned the reception area. His gaze settled on my face.

  “Wasn’t my fault,” I managed to rasp out, and Whitehaven smiled. Stepping inside, he picked a path through the mess, and stopped beside the couch.

  “They were merely possessions, easily replaced. Unlike people. How do you feel, Discordia?”

  “Awful.” A touch of my hand made Nick lift the cold pack away. Whitehaven’s smile disappeared. He bent low, studying my face. When he glanced at the shifter, Nick moved the other from my neck.

  “He had her up against the wall, choking her, when I got here.”

  “You did well, Nicholas.” The boss patted his shoulder. “Let me assist Kate, and then we’ll do more for Discordia.”

  Both cold packs were replaced, the shifter’s eyes once again dark brown. He smoothed my hair back, and moved to sit on the edge of the couch. “You have a hand print burned on your cheek. Am I putting too much pressure on it?”

  “No.” Lying there, watching him watch me, I realized that he’d saved my life. Of course, that’s why he’d been hired: to pull my fat out of the fire when I got in over my head. Knowing that didn’t keep a warm, tender feeling from spreading, along with confusion about why he hadn’t returned my call the night before.

  He took my hand when I lifted it, and pressed a kiss to the back. “If this ever happens again, your job is to haul ass while I keep them busy. Got that?”

  “Yeah.”

  Nick grinned. “You have no intention of following orders, do you?”

  “No.” I only ran if everyone was running, or if I was on my own.

  He shook his head, and looked over his shoulder. “I think they’re finishing up.”

  ***

  Kate smeared salve over my back. “The bruises are forming Rorschach blots. I see a bird.”

  “Ha. Ha.” I dabbed some of the salve on my cheek. “It didn’t burn when he hit me. Just hurt.”

  “Demons are strange creatures.” The witch let my shirt down. “There. Put some on your neck, Jones. Ronnie’s here, and I want to see what she has to say about the ward failure.”

  Being unable to talk without pain hadn’t been much fun, so my throat was almost healed. Scooping more salve from the jar, I covered the faint yellow brown band still visible. “How’d you know what was happening?”

  She smiled, opening the restroom door. “A little bird told me.”

  “Percy?”

  “He demanded a banishing potion and said he was going to save Cordi.” Kate shrugged. “I had one in my bag, and followed as quickly as possible.”

  “But how did he know?” Wiping the excess off my fingers, I followed her into the hallway.

  “He has his ways of keeping track of those he’s fond of.” She went toward the reception area. Deciding that I owed the parrot some major treats for a while, I headed for my office.

  My cell phone rang as I settled into the chair. “Hello?”

  “Hi. It’s Logan.” He sounded relieved, though I couldn’t figure out why. “How are you doing today?”

  “After two demon attacks, I’m still upright. Other than that, today has pretty much sucked
. I did get to yell at the elf. That part was fun.” My lips tried to smile, but it hurt, so I made them give the idea up. “How about you?”

  “Not nearly as exciting. I wanted to talk to you about your car, but it doesn’t sound like it’s a good time.” There was noise on his end, voices and other sounds. “Are you all right?”

  “I’ll live.” I wanted to see him, which had to be wrong, considering that the guy I was sleeping with had saved my life less than an hour ago. “Um, I’ll give you a call later, if that’s okay? We have a meeting about to start.”

  “Sure. Talk to you then, and take care of yourself, Discord.”

  “I’m trying to. Bye.” Ending the call, I wondered what the hell was going on with me. I’d never consciously drooled over another guy while involved. Nick stopped outside my door, and I forced a smile, shoving thoughts of Logan way into the back of my mind.

  “Ronnie’s doing her thing and Mr. Whitehaven is waiting on us.” His eyes traced the burn on my face, and a slight frown appeared. “I still think you should go to the ER.”

  By morning, I’d be fine, as long as I had a huge dinner and time to concentrate on healing the rest of the damage. “I only go there when something’s broken or there’s spurting blood.”

  His frown turned into a lopsided grin, and the shifter put a hand over his eyes for just a second. “You’re one of a kind.” Rubbing his face, he said, “Burned Cordi doesn’t smell as sexy. Just sayin’.”

  “Pervert.” I left my seat and we walked down to the boss’s office.

  Mr. Whitehaven sat behind his desk. Elbows propped and fingers steepled, he gazed at me until I had to repress the urge to squirm. “What? I told you it wasn’t my fault.”

  His lips parted, teeth flashing in a brief smile. “I’m merely thinking. You’ve had a vision and two demonic contact events.”

  “She’s also had a contact event with vampires,” Nick pointed out, from his position by the door. Kate was sitting in the chair next to mine, Percy at her shoulder.

  Two, actually. Of course, he didn’t know about the second one, because he hadn’t called me back and there hadn’t been a chance to tell him yet. “That may be personal.”

  Whitehaven leaned back, his chair creaking a faint protest. “Kate, what have you uncovered in regard to Derrick?”

  “Damn little. He seems to be relatively unknown, which I find highly suspicious, if he’s as powerful a telepath as Jones believes.” She scowled, obviously miffed over the lack of information.

  “Very well. I’ll visit the Barrows myself as soon as possible, and attempt to meet with him concerning his interference.”

  I wondered how well that would go, while nodding in agreement. Eight feet of anything is impressive. If the boss could get the vamp off my back, that was cool by me. Then again, he was elderly, regardless of whatever he was. Plus, I wanted to know why Derrick was after me. It felt too determined to be just over a little spying. “As long as I sit in.”

  “Me too.” The shifter crossed his arms. With a tiny smile playing over his lips, Whitehaven agreed. I got the impression he didn’t really need any back up.

  “Very well. Now, it’s apparent that steps must be taken to provide Discordia the means to combat any future demonic encounters.”

  “Why? They’ll leave her alone if she quits the case.” Nick was scowling when I looked.

  “I can’t quit.”

  He dropped his arms. “Of course you can. Tell that damned elf to shove his book up his…”

  “I can't stop hunting for the book. I have to find it.” Raking a hand through my hair, I said, “I have to clear it out of my mental files or it'll interfere with every case I take from here on out.”

  Mr. Whitehaven spoke. “I am extremely sorry to have placed you in this situation, Discordia.”

  “It's not your fault. It's his—that damn elf's. He lied to you, to me, ooh!” Furious, I stood up and began pacing.

  “He hired you. What if I kill him? Will that break this compulsion to find the book?” Nick’s face was a mask of unconcealed rage when I spun around to look at him, mouth inviting flies by falling wide open in shock.

  Kate waved his questions away with a calculated coolness. “Alive or dead, the elf has no bearing on her need to track down the book.”

  “I can't protect her from demons.” He turned away, his hands clenching into tight fists and shoulders turning rigid. “If things had gone differently, we’d both be dead.”

  Though touched by his obvious distress, I felt a flutter of anger. How many times would it take before he realized I wasn’t some weak little damsel in distress? “I'm not completely helpless, Nick.”

  “Cordi, Cordi, Cordi,” Percy warbled, flicking his wings. “Blood shines through.”

  “What?” Kate turned a sharp look on her familiar. ‘What do you mean, Percival?”

  The parrot chuckled in response. Her frown promising a decrease in his cracker allowance, Kate continued regarding him while telling Nick, “She isn't helpless and she has us. My coven. We're not entirely impotent against demons, Maxwell. I believe we have provided proof of that.”

  Thank you, Kate. I was going to buy her a new pair of shoes for that vote of confidence.

  “I can also help.” Whitehaven rose, heading for the full-wall display case to the left of his desk. It was crowded with a collection of things I’d never quite had the time to peruse.

  Nick turned back, expression grim and set. “How?”

  “I've collected many unusual items.” Our boss waved a hand over the lock, which clicked in response. Reaching inside, he informed us, “Some of them enjoy the taste of demon blood.”

  He removed a short sword, holding it out for our inspection. The hilt was a dragon's head, the wavy blade supposed to be the flame issuing from its open jaws. Whitehaven offered it to me. “I don't know how to use that.”

  “I do.” Thorandryll's voice shocked us all for a moment, but then Nick snarled and went for him. They disappeared through the door and landed with a thump somewhere down the hallway outside.

  “Wonderful!” Kate leaped up from her seat. Not sure if she was going to get popcorn or attempt to stop them wrecking the remains of the reception area, I rushed after her with our boss following on my heels.

  The shifter and elf were trading blows. Not really thinking it through, I dove into them, but an elbow to the ribs knocked me away. Mr. Whitehaven stepped over me and pried them apart by means of one large hand around each neck. Dangling both a foot above the floor, he shook them and roared, “Enough!”

  It went quiet, and Kate and I exchanged wide-eyed looks. I wondered what had happened to the sword while I climbed to my feet, gingerly testing my ribs with shaky fingers.

  “You may fight later, once this threat is past,” Whitehaven snapped, dropping them to their feet. Both men reeled away from him, and each other, gasping for air. “Now, come into my office, so that we may discuss this in a civilized manner.”

  No one argued. We filed back into his office, though Nick didn’t take a seat. He stood behind my chair, glaring at the elf.

  “I didn't realize you'd be compelled to complete this task. I'd planned to dismiss you once the location of the book was determined.” Thorandryll seemed to have recovered his composure nicely.

  “You don't give a damn about the danger you've put her in,” Nick accused, his hands dropping to my shoulders.

  “Hush.” Kate shook a scarlet-tipped nail at him, and then pointed it at the elf. “You may speak. What's so important about this book?”

  Thorandryll frowned, but answered. “It's Olven's grimoire, and contains the spell that separated the realms.”

  Mr. Whitehaven froze, his eyes slowly turning to blazing rubies. I tried not to stare, but it was a new and disturbing sight. “Someone wishes to work the spell again?”

  “I believe someone wishes to alter it to meld the demon realm with this one,” the elf corrected. “Why else would demons be attacking her?”

  �
�All right, now I need a drink,” Kate announced, sinking into a chair. Percy fluttered to her, an anxious croon attempting to erase her concern as he rubbed his feathered head on her cheek.

  “I knew this was bad,” I muttered, feeling a headache bloom behind my eyes. Just the topping to the rest of my aches and pains.

  “It's worse than 'bad'. It's the end of this world we've only begun to build.” Thorandryll glanced at Nick. “No sacrifice is too great to prevent it.”

  “Don't be too sure about that,” the shifter growled back.

  “He's right.” I cleared my throat. “No one's that important, not with billions of lives at risk.”

  “He can find another psychic. Once someone finds the damn book, you'll be free.”

  “There isn't another available with her abilities. Other psychics can only claim one, or at the most, two talents.” The elf shook his head, blonde hair waving. “I had no choice. Our magic can't penetrate the dark shroud of demon magic.”

  “Human magic can—at least to a certain extent.” The witch sighed and stood up, one hand on Percy's side as the parrot continued crooning softly. “I'll call in the cavalry and see what we can come up with to keep Jones breathing.”

  “If you'll allow me to wield that blade, I'll guard her life with my own.” The elf nodded at the dragon sword on Whitehaven's desk.

  “No, you won't.” Nick's voice was so cold that I twisted to look up at him, but he was glaring at Thorandryll. “You’re going to stay away from Cordi. This is your fault.”

  “Yes, and I must do something to rectify that.”

  “I have a few other weapons that have proven effective against demons. One is a small dagger and you,” my boss focused his newly bejeweled gaze on me. “Will carry it.”

  “No argument from me.” No, I wanted something sharp and hungry for demon blood in hand when the next one appeared. Nick’s hands tightened, so I looked up at him again. “And I’m with Nick. I don’t think I want you at my back, Mr. Pants On Fire.”

  The elf’s expression could have been carved from ice, when I checked to see how he’d taken that. “Would you accept another’s help, should I bring it?”