Water: The Elementals Book Three

by L. B. Gilbert

  “Yes.” She turned to him. “Listen. I want to do this alone. You should stay here.”

  Daniel pulled his gun out of his holster. “Hell no.”

  That asshole in there had nearly destroyed an entire civilization. Maybe things hadn’t worked out for Jordan the way he’d wanted with Serin, but that was no reason to take it out on the rest of her community. Those people had embraced him, shared meals with him. They had made him a part of their lives, and the bastard had tried to destroy them.

  The more Daniel thought about it, the angrier he got.

  Serin ran her teeth over her lip. “Please. I want you to stay here.”

  His heart ached, but he shook his head.

  She stared at him, her full lips parting. “I…I don’t want you to watch.”

  “I know.” He really did. Daniel put his hands on either side of her face. “Nothing you do in there will change how I feel about you.”

  Her head tilted as she studied him, weighing his words. “You think that now. But all you’ve seen me do is try to save people I love or defend myself. This is something else.”

  Aw, screw it. He was never going to have the right words to convince her. He was going to have to show her.

  Daniel put his arms on her shoulder, gently turned her in the direction of the French doors. A light feminine giggle could be heard as a shadow passed on the other side of the gauzy curtain covering the interior of the glass.

  “It’s time to end this. I’ll be right behind you,” he said.

  Daniel was still holding her when she let go. She didn’t carry him with her this time, so he was able to feel that moment when Serin transformed from a strong and supple woman to her water form.

  She was gone the next second, slipping through the crack under the door.

  That better not be a fucking metaphor, he told the universe, raising his gun and following her inside.

  The inside of the palace was richly tiled. Some effort had gone into its upkeep, but not the careful tending the intricate mosaic walls required. The plaster between them was cracked. Nothing a little tender loving care couldn’t fix, of course, but Jordan had evidently not been concerned with home improvements.

  He was too busy carousing.

  The detritus of parties past littered the floor and the surface of every table. There were gilt plates and silver cutlery, some dirty, some clean. A few were piled with fresh fruit or delicate morsels of food next to partially filled champagne glasses.

  She picked up a glass, noting the bright pink lipstick stain on the rim. So far, she’d been unnoticed by the three drunks dancing at the other end of the room. Jordan had always been partial to champagne. Personally, she couldn’t abide the stuff.

  Her former partner was swaying side to side with his eyes closed, a bottle in his hand. He took a swig as his dance partners, two silicone-enhanced blondes, rubbed against each other and him. It should have been sexy, but here, in the middle of nowhere, it just seemed…sad.

  One of the blondes noticed her first. She pointed at Serin, but the sudden movement was too much for her drunken state. Off balance, she bumped into the others, laughing nonsensically as she slid to the floor.

  “We have company,” she said with a giggle, tugging on her short skirt—too late to keep her assets private. The woman wasn’t wearing underwear.

  Jordan spun around. His eyes flared when he saw Serin standing there. He stopped swaying, lowering the bottle to his side. His face was expressionless, but his eyes roiled. He didn’t even glance at Daniel, who circled the room with his weapon aimed at the trio.

  After a moment, Jordan laughed. It was effortlessly charming, the laugh of a carefree and caring man. She had never realized how good he’d been at lying to her.

  “Welcome, my love,” he said with an exaggerated bow. He held up the bottle. “Care for some champagne? It’s your favorite.”

  Serin pinched the stem of the glass between her two fingers. “Actually, it’s your favorite. I prefer a sweet red.” She set down the glass, the clink of fine crystal resonating as it hit the wooden table. “You should tell your friends to leave.”

  Jordan’s face twisted, and he pulled one of the blondes against him like a shield. The woman squealed, her stilettos sliding on the tile floor.

  “Hey,” she protested, confusion and a little fear flashing across her perfect features.

  Serin’s mouth turned down. “You know that won’t help. Let her go.”

  Jordan huffed and shrugged, releasing the girl abruptly. Without his hold, she stumbled, nearly losing her balance.

  “Sorry, Jess.” He reached into his pocket, then tossed a set of keys at her. “You and Misty should take off.”

  Scowling, Jess caught the keys. Her eyes went from his to Serin, finally resting on Romero aiming his gun, his stance marking him as a professional.

  “Yeah, okay. Call us later,” she said, pulling the other lady off the floor.

  “But we were just getting started,” the one called Misty whined.

  “Shut up,” Jess snapped, yanking her toward the other side of the house and the exit nearest the garage.

  Serin didn’t bother watching them go. She kept her eyes on Jordan, making sure he didn’t reach into a pocket for a spell bomb or an enhanced firearm.

  Jordan turned his head, noticing Daniel for the first time. “Who the hell is this?” he asked, a mix of indignation and jealousy in his voice.

  “You don’t get to ask any questions,” Serin said, picking her way across the room, stopping here and there to pick up an object.

  She set down a jeweled letter opener before holding up a vaguely Elephantine statue carved out of cloudy blue crystal. “This is the memory stone. I recognize it from the list of items you stole before you faked your death. According to our records, a skilled practitioner can use it to read a person’s memories…even change them.”

  Was this meant to be Jordan’s get-out-of-jail-free card? If so, he shouldn’t have left it out where it was so easy to recover.

  “It was deadweight. It doesn’t work.” Scowling, Jordan took a swig of the bottle. He wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his silk robe before spitting on the floor. “It’s just a chunk of crystal. I shouldn’t have bothered taking it.”

  Serin inclined her head, acknowledging the fact he wasn’t bothering with pointless denials. She held the elephant higher. The crystal grew clearer, lighting up like a beacon from within. “Or you just didn’t try hard enough to master it.”

  Jordan huffed, looking down at the floor. “Of course,” he muttered.

  Serin put the crystal elephant down, continuing her circuit of the room, her fingers running over the objects that weren’t visibly filthy.

  She wiped her palms on her pants and waved, the gesture encompassing the room. “When I realized you were alive, I didn’t expect you to be living like this, hiding like a coward.”

  Jordan rubbed his red eyes. “Did you miss me?”

  Serin stopped a few yards away, her hands at her sides. “No.”

  Laughing, he took another drink. “That’s my lovely bride. Honest to a fault.”

  She glanced at Romero. Daniel’s lips were curled in disdain.

  Something was off. When the others had suggested Jordan was the mastermind behind the thefts, she’d dismissed the idea. She had been with him for years. The willingness to do harm required something her bonded hadn’t possessed. Ambition. But this—a man drinking and wallowing in self-pity, this was Jordan she knew.

  The curse that had come out of the body on T’Kaieri had been some of the most advanced and complicated magic she had ever seen. By comparison, the memory stone was child’s play.

  Jordan was skilled in the craft, but he lacked direction. He was a dabbler. The poison could have easily been him. The glamour as well, but not the curse. At least, not that curse.

  “This wasn’t your idea, was it? Who helped you create the curse?” Jordan had a lot of friends on the island. His charm and attractive features h
ad won people over so readily. Of course, none of them had to live with him….

  Jordan lowered himself to the floor. “I did it all. The robbery, the poison bullets, the glamoured corpse, but it was all your fault.”

  His eyes streamed. “I did everything for you—followed you all over the world, bought you everything your heart could possibly desire. I did everything, and it was never enough.”

  “She didn’t need things, you prick—just a partner who understood,” Daniel fumed.

  Jordan’s lips parted. Comprehension flashed across his face. “And you’re him.” He pointed at Serin. “She’s yours. It’s why she brought you.”

  Daniel adjusted his grip on the gun. “Serin belongs to herself, asshole. I’m just along for the ride.”

  Jordan took another swig. Finding the bottle empty, he tossed it away. “It doesn’t matter.” He reached under his shirt, then drew out a pendant hanging from a silver chain. “I have this, so you can’t touch me.”

  She raised a brow. “Where did you get that?”

  “From the damn archive, of course. It nullifies your power.”

  “But I can still touch you,” Daniel said, his weapon trained on Jordan’s head.

  Serin sighed heavily, finally convinced. Jordan wasn’t the mastermind. He also wouldn’t ever tell her who really did it, but he didn’t have to anymore. “That won’t be necessary,” she told Daniel.

  “And why is that?” Jordan asked, twirling the chain to make the pendant swing.

  “Because that isn’t an anti-Elemental amulet. There’s no such thing. If I recall correctly, that charm lets you find things that are lost.”

  There was a beat of silence. “You still can’t touch me.” Jordan didn’t sound as confident. “This place doesn’t have working plumbing. There’s not enough water to drown me.”

  “I don’t have to drown you.” She kept her eyes on him, calling his water to her.

  Jordan doubled over. His mouth gaped as he stared down at his hands and body. The confusion on his face was swiftly followed by horror.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Serin could see Romero put his gun down, but she didn’t turn her head. If she saw his reaction, she might stop.

  “Your body is mostly water,” she reminded Jordan in a steady tone.

  “But you can’t. This is beyond your skill.” Jordan’s cheeks sank, pressing deep into his skill. He was starting to get the gaunt appearance of a starving man.

  His mouth contorted, body falling forward. He lay on the floor as his body shuddered, shrinking before their eyes. “I would have loved you forever and look at you, you heartless bitch. This is so easy for you.”

  Guilt tore her heart to pieces, but Serin didn’t release him.

  A thin trickle of water was running from him to her. She forced her features to remain expressionless. “Actually, you have no idea what this is costing me…”

  She didn’t look at Daniel. She couldn’t. This will be over soon, all of it.

  More and more water ran toward her. Jordan’s body was starting to disintegrate. Without the water to hold it together, parts of it were turning to dust. Soon, only bones remained. They were bleached white by magic, surrounded by a pile of pink and tan dust.

  Serin had killed many times over the years. She had felt satisfaction, a sense of justice. This time, she felt nothing. She embraced the silence, holding as still as possible before she had to go on.

  “You’ll feel it later.”

  Her breath caught. Daniel was still there. Dumbfounded, she gaped at him with her mouth open. “What are you still doing here?”

  Daniel holstered his gun. “Did you expect me to leave?”

  On some level, she had.

  He shook his head at her. “Well, that’s not happening.”

  “But you did see me, right?” She waved at the bones. Had he turned away and covered his ears?

  Daniel’s head dipped. He appeared a little confused. “I did. And?”

  “He was my ex. We were bonded for almost a decade.”

  “Yeah, and he betrayed you and tried to kill you and your entire island. The shithead deserved what he got.”

  “But I did that,” she said, pointing at the bones in bewilderment.

  Daniel scratched his head. “Um, babe—I mean, Serin—can I ask you something?”

  “What is it?” she asked, an impending sense of doom engulfing her.

  “How is making mummies all that different from drowning someone?” He appeared genuinely perplexed.

  “Because it is,” she said slowly.

  Water talents shouldn’t be able to pull the moisture from a body. A person’s aura, their chi, was too strong a barrier. Daniel shrugged. “Well, it isn’t to me.”

  “As far as I know, only one Water Elemental has been able to do it. She lived thousands of years ago. According to their records, the only reason she was able to do it was because she’d given herself over to the black.”

  “As in evil?” Daniel scoffed. “You’re not evil. Again, that asshole had it coming. And maybe more Water talents would have developed that skill if you didn’t have that stupid arbitrary cutoff of a hundred years.”

  “I didn’t say I was evil, but that is the only time one of us had the ability.”

  “That you know of.”

  He had a point. Serin had thought she knew everything about Water talents, but T’Kaieri held more secrets than she’d realized.

  Daniel broke away, pointing at the bones. “About Jordan… I thought you would question him more.”

  Serin shook off her malaise, beginning to gather the stolen objects. “He wouldn’t have named his accomplice.”

  “You’re probably right,” Daniel said, opening his pack so she could stow the artifacts.

  “Wrap them first,” she reminded him.

  He nodded, taking out a small roll of silk. Magical artifacts in close proximity could interact. There were other more effective barriers, but this was the most lightweight. “So, about the accomplice… Are we back to square one?”

  “No.” As much as she wanted to deny it, there was really only one viable suspect. Serin paused, picking up the memory stone. Snatches of a conversation she’d had years ago came back.

  It had been a few decades into her service. She’d been sharing a meal with Gia on the beach. When the Earth Elemental left, Serin went to the archives to research an upcoming job.

  She’d found him handling the Elephant-shaped stone, turning it over and over in his hands. When he saw her, he put it down, changing the subject when she offered to demonstrate how it worked.

  I should have known then. A scholar of magic wouldn’t have turned down a demonstration like that. Not unless he already knew how it worked.

  Heart aching, she reached out and took Daniel’s hand. “We need to go. I have a good idea of who the accomplice is.”

  34

  Gia opened the door, then climbed down the winding stairs. The ancient stone steps were slippery. They’d been polished smooth with age, the center of every one so worn there was a dip in the middle of each.

  The castle was on the coast of the Isle of Man. But Gia hadn’t need to see the crumbling turrets or partially rebuilt bailey to know that its history was long. The stones were whispering their stories in her ear, but she shut them out. She was only interested in the castle’s most recent occupant.

  He hadn’t been here long. Since leaving T’Kaieri, he’d been all over, Italy, Spain, Greece—anywhere there were repositories of ancient learning. That was in line with his interests. However, it hadn’t been necessary to track him through all those places. When she decided to find him, it was simple, because he hadn’t been hiding. Uncle John wanted to be found.

  He was sitting on a far bench surrounded by glass vials filled with multicolored liquids, extracts of rare herbs and flowers. Bunsen burners warmed glass distillation equipment. She traced the line of condensation as a potent hallucinogen dripped into a collection flask. It was sitting next to a sta
te-of-the-art compound microscope.

  He’d even added a sprinkler system on the ceiling and drains on the linoleum-covered floor, just like a modern laboratory. The alchemist’s lair had been updated, embracing the latest technologies as they were invented.

  He’d even embraced new lighting technology. Sickly blue fluorescent lights highlighted every object in the room. It made Uncle John resemble like a living cadaver as he mixed his many vials and experiments.

  She hadn’t made a sound, but he knew she was there. A little smile played on his lips as he continued in his work, meticulously counting giant seeds with a pair of forceps. When he was finished, he glanced up from his workbench, his face bright and welcoming.

  The expression was so warm that for a second, she almost convinced herself she’d made a mistake.

  But Gia had finally remembered the lessons she’d learned as a child. The best liars always smiled. They hid what they were behind bright grins while trying to hug others, but only so they could bury the knife in their backs.

  John stood, bowing at her. He beckoned her closer. “I was hoping it would be you.”

  Gia didn’t move. She kept her eyes fixed on him, but her other senses were rapidly scanning the room, searching and identifying threats.

  Gia didn’t move until she was satisfied she’d cataloged them all. She walked the length of the bench nearest her, running her hand across the pitted surface along the edge.

  “You’re not even going to try to deny you were behind the theft, Puck?”

  He shrugged, the hapless little gesture effortlessly charming. “Why bother? You’re here. Obviously, you know that I was involved—although, I am curious. When did you realize I framed Jordan?”

  “It’s not a frame-up when the subject allows himself to be led into committing the crime,” Gia muttered.

  She stared at him, still in disbelief that John was the one behind this entire mess. “You played Jordan, didn’t you? He actually thought you were helping him—being supportive. I saw you with him and the elders, playing the wise but reluctant counselor. Jordan had his pride. It wouldn’t have been difficult to convince him to be dissatisfied with his life on the island.”