She only had a split second to process that. A barrel peeked into the doorway.
Serin put her hand on Romero’s shoulder, then let go of her corporeal form. She splashed to the floor, rising in a controlled wave.
Water splashed into the cast-iron bathtub. Liquified Serin escaped down the drain, taking the agent with her.
15
Serin found a branch in the drainage system that led to the sea. She burst out of a large corrugated pipe on the beach.
She reformed with ease. The agent…not so much. When she nudged the puddle imbued with his aura, he came to, sitting on his butt, arms and legs flailing. His mouth gaped as if he’d been trying to swim in whitewater rapids while screaming his head off.
Taking one look at her, he started shouting for real.
She winced. “You were actually much quieter on the ride here, you know. I was impressed for a moment. Now, not so much.”
“You…you…”
“I saved your life,” she said, backing away from him. “We were about to be blown to kingdom come. Or, more precisely, you were about to be riddled with enough lead to build a bridge. I would have been fine.”
Probably…
“Wha—what?” he sputtered, his eyes wild and wide. Then he started swearing, holding up his hands and rubbing his fingers to his palms.
Serin felt her lips twist into a wry grin. “Yeah, it takes a little while for your extremities to feel like yours again the first few times you go non-corporeal… Why don’t I give you a minute to collect yourself?”
She walked a little way down the beach, casting a perplexed glance back at the agent as he began to pat himself all over, touching his arms and legs—and between them—in a regular rotation.
She couldn’t blame him. Serin couldn’t believe it herself.
He shouldn’t have been able to travel with her. Yes, she had made the attempt to bring him along, but it had been a Hail-Mary pass—desperate, stupid, and ultimately doomed to failure.
Kind of like the rest of this venture.
Tired of running in circles, Serin had cut to the chase after double checking the list Alec had drafted. Many items had been missing from the archives—enough for them to know the thief had been operating systemically over a long period of time. Some of the stolen goods were merely valuable, like the jewel-encrusted toad. Others were imbued with enough black magic to alter the course of history. But a few of the missing items had little value at all—at least to anyone other than an Elemental.
She hadn’t seen the stolen Sai since her first decade of service. They hadn’t been made in Asia. These were an ancient pair that had been crafted somewhere in India for Onake Ova, a little-known Earth Elemental who’d disappeared in the seventeenth century. Onake had lost the pair in battle, but it had been a moot point because the woman herself had vanished along with them.
Serin had inadvertently solved the mystery when she’d discovered the pair of Sai in the horde of a deadly Vodyanoi, a type of water demon, at Lake Gurudongmar in Sikkim. She recognized it the moment she’d picked them up. Whether they meant to or not, Elementals left a mark on their weapons, one their successors could feel.
Serin had taken great satisfaction in using the tridents to kill the ancient predator who’d murdered her long-departed sister. She’d taken them back to T’Kaieri where they had been stored in an Elm wood case carved for them by the head archivist himself. The etching on the lid commemorated the moment justice had finally been served. It had been one of Serin’s first major kills, one her parents still bragged about. But though she had found satisfaction in avenging the death of one of her sisters, Serin hadn’t thought about the Sai again until Alec told her one of the pair was missing.
Why would the thief steal it? And how the hell had it ended up in the hands of an arms-slash-drug dealer?
She still wasn’t sure, but the fact she had the other one let her cast a common mate-finding spell. She’d tracked it to the farmhouse, but hadn’t found who in the gun-runners gang possessed it because of Agent Romero. Getting him safely out of danger was the priority.
In the end, that had been easy…but it sure as hell shouldn’t have been.
Only her sisters had ever successfully traveled with her in her medium. She could move in theirs as well, but no one outside of that select circle could do it. Not even Jordan, her mate, despite the fact it was one of the perks of bonding with an Elemental…unless that Elemental was a Water.
Hers was the most difficult element to master, something even Gia, her Earth counterpart, acknowledged. Water was also riskier than the others.
Unlike Earth, Air, and Fire, Serin’s element was a living thing, something with an innate will of its own. Giving herself over to it required a complete commitment combined with a plasticity of mind that wasn’t as easy to achieve as some might think.
An Elemental had to trust in the Mother—their faith in her had to be absolute. It was She who kept their minds and auras intact as they sped through the world without their bodies. Then once an Elemental let go, they had to resist the siren’s call of the water.
In their history, a handful of Water Elementals hadn’t been able to cope. They had given themselves over to the great ocean’s cold embrace and become one with it—permanently.
Because of this, many of her predecessors had intentionally circumscribed their own talent. All wielded water as a weapon, calling storms and drowning their marks when those souls had blackened past the point of no return, but they themselves eschewed the ability to become one with it unless absolutely necessary. They preferred to travel overland or in the sky to avoid it.
There were other limitations to their abilities as well. Before today, Serin hadn’t been able to touch her opponent’s water without physical contact.
Though island training actively discouraged the use of force, Serin had learned quite early on to direct her ability when she fought. In a word—her kicks and punches landed with more force than was normal because she was pushing her foe’s water away. But touch had always been a prerequisite. Acting at a distance had always been beyond her skill. It was the fabled talent of only the most illustrious of her ancestors, the legendary Elementals who changed the course of the world during their years in service.
And now she could do it, too…and perhaps more. Talent like hers was like an onion. Peel one layer away and there was another just below it.
She had leveled up, as Logan would say. Serin laughed shortly, a trace of bitterness coursing through her. In a few short years, she was slated to give up all her gifts in the name of tradition.
“And I don’t want to.”
It was the first time she’d admitted it aloud. She hadn’t even been able to say so in her head, although her heart had ached in protest every time her mother brought up the subject of retirement.
“That makes no sense. Haven’t you been listening to me at all?”
The agent was on his feet, watching her with his hands on his hips. His dark eyes flashed like diamonds. Still a little damp, his t-shirt was molded to his chest. He had a very impressive physique. She could actually count each individual ridge of his six pack.
“I wasn’t listening,” she admitted, unwillingly admiring the carved planes of his face. For a human, Agent Romero was an attractive man.
His was an ascetic type of male beauty. The Mother had drawn him with spare lines. Cut cheekbones, solid square jaw, and dark fathomless eyes. The only lush bits were his dark eyelashes and the moderate fullness of his lips. The slight pigment in his skin saved him from being too severe.
Why was he different?
His cheeks reddened under her scrutiny. He slashed the air with his hand. “Are you going to tell me what just happened over there?”
“No.” Serin turned her back on him.
“No? Just no?” He stomped in front of her, even though it meant splashing into the surf. His hair was a bit damp, but they were both otherwise dry otherwise. She hadn’t lost her touch.
&n
bsp; Agent Romero grabbed her upper arm. Serin tilted her head to glare at the offensive hold, her face darkening.
Slowly, the long-fingered hand unfurled and he released her, stepping farther back into the water.
“I need to know what the hell happened back there. What did you do to me?”
The plaintive note in his rough voice was affecting. She hurt for him, but what could she really tell him?
Not much. But he wasn’t going to let this go, not unless he decided to.
“You must be…important. Not many individuals can take that ride and live. I think the Mother wants you to be saved for some reason. That itself is significant. She doesn’t stir for much these days. Why that is, I couldn’t say, but for your own sanity, it would be best if you forget everything you’ve seen and experienced since we stumbled across each other.”
His baffled expression was a combination of frustration and rapid calculation. “You’re a witch, aren’t you?”
“No,” she said, her tone icing over.
“Then how did we turn all liquid and shit?”
His head drew back, an expression of dawning horror twisting his expression. His hands flew to his hair.
“Wait, was that a sewer drain? Ugh. It was, wasn’t it?” He shuddered. “I need ten showers. Now.”
She couldn’t stifle a chuckle. “Relax, you’re clean.”
Even when Serin was forced to travel those less-than-desirable avenues, she could separate any liquid from any solid at the molecular level.
“Then why is your hair dry and mine wet? Why is mine wet?” He smelled his fingers.
She knew better than to laugh. “I meant what I said. Stay away. I’m tracking a dangerous individual, one you have no hope of being able to deal with.”
He stopped fussing with his hair, moving his hands to his hips. “Are you sure about that?”
His cockiness was almost endearing. “Not even if you had the resources of your entire department behind you. Trust me. This is way above your paygrade, Agent Romero.”
His eyes narrowed. “You can’t be serious.”
“I’m not saying forgetting will be easy. I’d take the memories away if I could. It would be easier for you that way.”
His expression grew thunderous, and he lifted his wrist up. “Hey! You already tried that, didn’t you?”
She shrugged. “Since you’re standing here, we can safely assume it didn’t take. But believe me when I say—this is not a good thing. I was trying to help you. People who learn about this side of nature generally don’t cope well. Mental hospitals are full of those unfortunates the Supernatural world swept up and spit back out again.”
“You are fucking unbelievable, lady.” He pointed a finger at her. “You can’t mess with people’s heads and expect to get away with it! Who made you judge and jury over our lives?”
She sighed, suddenly tired. “It was the all-powerful Mother, creator of this world and all its inhabitants.”
His mouth shut with a satisfying snap.
“I’m an Elemental, one of four chosen to maintain the balance between good and evil. I do that with my power—my dominion—over water. I’ve served Her for almost a century.”
“Oh.” He almost looked like he believed her.
She moved toward him, reaching out to touch his cheek. He clapped his hand over hers.
“I am sorry you were drawn into this business,” she said. “Very few humans can survive in our world. Somewhere, something went wrong, and I can’t fix it. Mother knows, I’ve tried. But if you heed my advice, your life should continue just like it was, or at least something resembling normal.”
He didn’t say anything. Instead, he pressed her fingers harder against his cheek.
They were warmer than she expected, sending an unexpected heat coursing through her. She pulled away abruptly.
“Goodbye, Agent Romero.” She turned into the surf, diving into the deeper water like a mermaid going home.
Letting go, she let the cold ocean consume her body. She directed the currents to begin carrying her away when she realized she could still hear the human on the beach.
“You haven’t seen the last of me!” he was yelling. “And it’s Daniel, not agent!”
16
Daniel kept touching the keys on his keyboard every other second as he pretended to write his report on the events at the farmhouse.
He told himself he was just figuring out how to explain the day’s events without sounding like a madman. However, the reality was the small tactile sensation was a way of reminding himself he still had fingers.
This better not develop into a permanent tic. That was the last thing he needed. His coworkers were already giving him grief for calling in the cavalry to the farmhouse and then disappearing.
None of the men had been apprehended. Whatever bodies Serin had felled with that sword or with one of her killer kicks to the head were gone, dragged away by the others no doubt. The only proof they were ever there was the multitude of severed fingers and that one hand. Oh, and the thousands of fresh bullet holes and spent shell casings everywhere.
Daniel had to hire a cab to take him out to the house after Serin had abandoned him on Sand Point Beach. By the time he got there, Ray and the locals had established a perimeter and forensics was on site. But the actual suspects were long gone.
One of the assailant’s cars was still there. Gun oil practically saturated the carpet lining the interior, but the big guns had been removed.
Daniel had been able to describe the weapon he’d seen after the fact, despite only catching a glimpse of it. Thanks to its distinctive shape and coloring, they had a good idea what it was—something new to the entire team. The boys in forensics identified it as the Jakat five-eight, nicknamed the Warmonger. The experimental weapon was supposed to be on the drafting board of an overseas gun manufacturer.
The company board denied having any in production, but conceded the shell casings matched. The bastards were claiming intellectual property theft and even thanked their office for bringing the problem to their attention. However, they couldn’t say when their super-secret blueprints for the weapon had gone missing. An internal investigation was ongoing.
A junior pair of investigators passed Daniel’s desk. They eyeballed him. One nudged the other, murmuring something he couldn’t catch.
He clenched his teeth in irritation. Those guys used to worship the ground he walked on. His superstar status in the department was taking a real hit with this mess.
“What do you expect?” Ray slapped a couple of files on Daniel’s desk. He’d come up behind him while he was having a pity party.
“First, you stumble on a major arms deal following up on a nothing lead and you do the right thing by calling it in, but then you decide to go inside for some unknown reason—and I’m not buying that you were just trying to ID them, because if you’d stayed put we could have slapped names to faces afterward.”
Daniel swiveled in his chair to glare at his partner. “I told you once they spotted me in the yard, my best bet was to bluff my way out of there by pretending to be one of them. Once I got made, I had to wait until they decided to leave to call for backup.”
Ray sat in his own chair, scooting closer and lowering his voice. “And despite the fact you were alone and they went Rambo on you with a gun straight out of Wayne LaPierre’s wet dream, you chased them—but not in your own car.”
“It was too far.” That was his story and he was sticking with it. “If I’d gone all the way back to where I concealed it, I would have lost them.”
“So you jumped in the nearest perp’s car, which just happened to be empty, and you went after him. Did you hotwire it?”
Daniel shrugged. “I didn’t have to. The keys were inside.”
“But then you lost the car somewhere and all trace of the suspects. Judging from the state of that house, there are some very big assholes out there armed to the teeth with guns capable of storming Omaha beach on their own.”
> Daniel rubbed his head. “I’m aware of that. Why do you think I decided to pursue them?”
Ray tsked. “I know you meant well, but why didn’t you go back to the rental for your kit? You could have put a tracker on their cars. Then they’d be in a cell now, and everyone would be kissing your ass as usual. But you lost them, which I know is bullshit. You are the best tail I’ve ever seen. Unless the fuckers can fly away, there’s no way they managed to elude you.”
His partner glanced around, making sure no one was too close. He leaned closer, his forearms braced on his knees. “Now do you want to tell me the real reason you went into that house? And who the hell cut off all those fingers? Was it a Yakuza spring cleaning?”
Fuck. Ray knew him too well. Daniel had been tight-lipped with the rest of their coworkers, pleading ignorance about the fingers. What little he felt safe sharing, he put in his report, but he should have known his partner would never accept his abbreviated tale.
And honestly, Ray deserved better. The man had his back for years, and now Daniel was forced to lie to him.
Well, you can’t tell him the truth. Ray would have him locked up for his own good, but Daniel could give him enough to satisfy his curiosity.
He glanced around them. The other agents and their supervisor were all busy. “All right—Serin was there. She’s the one who sliced all those fingers off. Did it with a sword. She was trying to stop the arms dealer.”
Ray sputtered, spraying spittle on him. “The fuck, man?” he burst out.
Grimacing, Daniel wiped his cheek. He turned to see who might be watching but swearing a blue streak was common in their office. It was a testosterone-rich environment. Even Edie the IT girl would curse like a sailor whenever she had to reformat one of the office computers.
“Lower your voice,” he admonished.
Ray reached over, then pinched him as hard as he could.
Water: The Elementals Book Three Page 12
