Your Money's Worth: Seattle Elementals, Book 1

by Connie Suttle

  My fire demon had their images in its brain and wasn't willing to let any of them live. For a few moments, it looked as if they'd outrun me.

  Until I tucked into myself and became a rolling ball of demon fire.

  Whatever they were, they burned easily enough when I rolled over them. Once they were dead, I stopped, stood upright and roared my victory to anyone listening.

  Chapter 7

  Cassie

  "Here." Cliff set a large mug of soup in my hands. Rob—whom I almost didn't recognize, stood nearby in Cliff's kitchen.

  The earth sprite was dressed like a warrior from a fantasy novel, with a gold helmet and a long sword in a scabbard that hung from a belt at his waist. Tight-fitting breeches were topped with an elaborately embroidered coat over a silk shirt.

  I watched as Rob removed the helmet and set it on the kitchen counter, then raked fingers through his hair, which had flattened and bore streaks of sweat.

  At least Cliff was still alive, although he was covered in cuts and bruises. He hadn't bothered to button the shirt he'd thrown on while he tended wounded and sent others for help.

  Three of his pack didn't make it. One of those was Harve. If I hadn't already killed the ones responsible for Harve's death, I'd have gone after them again.

  "What about the humans who were there?" I asked. At least my voice was mostly steady when I spoke.

  "Their deaths will be attributed to more mundane causes by tomorrow," Cliff barked. "Eat your soup. If you want a sandwich, we can do that, too."

  "This is fine. I'm sorry about the ones who didn't make it."

  "Me, too. If you and Rob hadn't come, we'd all be dead."

  "Is this how you dress at home?" I turned to Rob.

  "My dear fire demon, this is how I dress when I do battle," Rob offered a weary grin. "Or when I stand at court with the King."

  "Nice." I nodded at him and drank some of my soup.

  "I should go; we have an elaborate vehicle crash to arrange," Cliff muttered and stalked out of the kitchen. I pulled the borrowed blanket closer about me and watched him go; his shoulders were tight as he made his way through the house, until he turned a corner and was out of my sight.

  "This is awful," I sighed, shaking my head.

  "It is awful. The Prince of Alabama will call the Chancellor in the morning, to tell him that we have his proof—two dead Shakkor Agdah for him to examine at his leisure. Those are the ones I killed," Rob held up a hand before I could say anything. "The ones you killed are nothing but ash."

  "What were those things they were throwing?" I asked. "What about the humans who were with them?"

  "Those orbs are spelled. The entire pack would be dead if I hadn't placed a muting charm against dark magic on Cliff's property two years ago. If they'd been unhindered, things would be so much worse, now."

  "You must be talented to do something like that," I breathed.

  "I am old and talented enough," Rob said, pulling a chair away from the breakfast table and sitting beside me. "The humans are dead—Cliff and I took care of them. They imagined they'd be watching while we died. Perhaps they also imagined that they'd shoot already dying wolves, to hurry the process. They imagined wrongly."

  "I hope your King appreciates you. I sure do," I mumbled before drinking more of my soup. "It didn't matter that those people were shooting at me while I'm on fire, but it would matter to the wolves."

  "It would matter to you while you're humanoid," Rob pointed out. "While it is more difficult to kill an elemental demon in their common form, it is not impossible, if enough bullets are used."

  "That's a fun fact," I breathed and slurped soup.

  "I think all the wolves would be dead if things had gone differently," Rob leaned back in his chair with a sigh. "I wonder how long Virgil Haney knew that Cliff was werewolf?"

  "I hope he brought everybody he'd told with him tonight," I countered. "We don't need more vigilantes shooting innocent werewolves. Or spreading tales to others."

  "I agree. My concern is this; where did he meet with Shakkor Agdah, or had they insinuated themselves into his mind long ago?"

  "They can do that?"

  "With some humans, yes. The weak-minded, or those prone to evil are easy targets."

  "That's not good news."

  "As you say." Rob dipped his head in a half-nod.

  "Do you want some coffee? I think I need it," I said. Rising, I made sure my blanket didn't fall as I walked toward Cliff's kitchen counter and the coffeepot beside the sink.

  "I will take coffee. This will be a long night, dear fire demon."

  * * *

  Cliff Young

  I was on my way back to the house; staging an inferno of a car crash to explain deaths of paranormals is never easy. Having that same accident account for the lives of homicidal humans is much worse.

  That's why I didn't turn my cell phone on again until I drove past the gate onto my property. I had a voicemail from Evan Haroldson. Evan was a good friend of Blake Donovan's, an attorney who helped Blake in the duties assigned to the Prince's position. Had he and Blake heard about the fuck-up on my property already?

  I called him back the minute I parked the truck in the front yard. He answered almost immediately. "Blake's dead," Evan informed me. "A rock demon and an ice demon killed him last night."

  Fucking, bloody hell.

  * * *

  Parke

  The call came from Evan Haroldson. Blake Donovan, Prince of Alabama for less than a month, was dead. Killed by a rock demon and an ice demon who'd attacked on the full moon. Evan, who'd been with Blake, tried to fight off their attackers but was injured.

  Evan called me from the hospital, where they'd kept him after setting broken bones. The attack had taken Blake and Evan by surprise, targeting Blake first and shattering his ice demon easily. Evan's water demon fought back, but water has little to use against a rock demon and nothing to combat an ice demon.

  Evan's water had scattered when the ice demon came for him; it was the only defense he had. He'd pulled together and became humanoid—the rock demon batted him away easily in that form.

  Becoming full water demon again, Evan went after the rock demon a second time while struggling to stay away from the ice demon. That's when the mysterious, black-cloaked men appeared, tossing out glowing orbs that exploded around Evan, sending him sailing and breaking humanoid bones when he was forced to change again.

  Evan crawled half a mile in humanoid form to get to his clothing and cell phone. He was picked up by paramedics there and transported to the hospital.

  Someone he trusted was guarding the door to his hospital room while he spoke to me on the phone.

  "Cliff Young's place was attacked by black cloaks, too, last night," Evan sighed. "He lost three wolves. It could have been worse—he says the sprite and your wife took care of what attacked them. Blake's attackers disappeared when they thought I was dead, too; they didn't wait around to see whether I survived the explosions."

  "So Blake was their real target." I said what I knew while my brain scrambled to digest the information thrown at it in a single conversation.

  "Looks that way. Blake and Cliff, actually. Cliff's black cloaks brought humans along. One of those humans was the county sheriff, who hated Cliff. All dead, now. That's been covered; it's already on the local news that a three-car pileup is responsible. Cliff has two bodies for you to examine—black cloaks the sprite killed. I think you need to see them."

  I felt like a fool. Cassie had approached me about Shakkor Agdah. I'd scoffed at the notion, telling her they were a fairy tale.

  To most, they were. Most people understood that the last had died out long ago.

  Except they obviously hadn't, if these were real Shakkor Agdah. "I'll be on the next plane to Alabama," I sighed. "What is the news reporting about Blake's disappearance?"

  "They're blaming it on the recent killing and attempted killing of two other judges—the rumor is that somebody has an axe to grind with judge
s. They don't have a body and won't find one—sunlight melted and evaporated what was left of Blake."

  "I understand. Look, get back in bed and rest up. I'll be there as soon as I can," I told him and ended the call.

  "What happened?" Destiny walked into my study, her eyes wide and her face pale. I had no idea how much of the conversation she'd overheard.

  "The Prince of Alabama is dead," I sighed before dropping my face in both hands. "Cassie tried to tell me something was wrong. I didn't listen." I dropped my hands to look at Destiny again. She was so young. Already, she'd been forced into adulthood when Ross kidnapped her. Her ice demon had fought back in the Christmas war, killing the water demon who'd held her and intended to kill her.

  "Are you going to see Cassie?" Destiny wiped a tear away with the heel of a hand.

  "Yes. I have to talk to her and the werewolf she's interning for. Somebody tried to kill him last night. Probably about the same time the Prince died."

  "Is Cassie okay?"

  "I think so, baby doll. Stop worrying about it, all right? I'll call Daniel, too. See if he can meet me in Birmingham."

  Destiny came to me and put her arms around my neck. "Don't cry, sweetheart," I hugged her for several seconds. "I'll make sure Cassie is safe."

  "Parke?" Mom walked in, then. "I heard Blake Donovan is missing on the news just now."

  "He's dead," I sighed and let Destiny go. "We have big problems. I need to get on a plane to Alabama as soon as I can book a flight."

  * * *

  Cassie

  Rob handled the caffeine better than I did. I felt as if I hadn't slept in a week, and was too wound up by several cups of coffee and the previous night's events to even doze off. Cliff—I had no idea how he was still standing. Gina arrived around lunchtime and tended to his injuries.

  The rest of his pack had already gone home—to sleep, I hoped. At least I was dressed—sort of—in a pair of fleece shorts (clean, thankfully) and a t-shirt belonging to Cliff that he'd found at the bottom of a drawer. The draw-string on the shorts was tied as tight as I could make it, or they'd have dropped to my ankles.

  Rob and I put sandwiches together for lunch; Cliff ate and talked on the phone at the same time—to Harve's human wife, who was almost inconsolable, and to the other two wolves' families, who now had deaths to mourn and private ceremonies to hold on Cliff's property, away from human eyes.

  They'd died as wolves—they wouldn't turn back for a traditional, human service. I was cleaning Cliff's kitchen when my cell phone rang.

  No, I hadn't considered calling Parke. So many things had happened, and I wasn't prepared to discuss them with anyone who'd inspect every centimeter of my story in a calculating and detached manner.

  Rob, Cliff and I—we'd lived through it, so there was little need for us to discuss it. Parke's name showed on my cell phone. He was calling now. Wanting to talk, I'm sure, about the death of the Prince of Alabama and the night's other events.

  I thought about letting it go to voicemail.

  "You should answer that," Rob said, peering over my shoulder to see who the caller might be.

  "Yeah. Hello?" My voice didn't sound friendly when I answered.

  "Cassie? Thank goodness," Parke said. "Are you all right? Did you get hurt? I'm at SeaTac, waiting on a flight. I'll leave here in twenty, and be in Birmingham at six. Tell me you're all right, sweetheart."

  "I'm okay." I didn't sound okay. I was blubbering all over my borrowed t-shirt.

  "Sweetheart, they're calling my flight. I'll be there in a few hours. I'll call you when I hit the ground in Birmingham."

  "Okay," I stuttered.

  "I love you," Parke whispered before the call ended.

  "You're not going home," Rob put his hand over mine as I reached for my purse. "You're staying here. They knew where we'd be last night. They may know where you're staying, too. We have a better chance at survival if we're together. Your human landlords won't stand a chance against what attacked us last night. Don't place them in danger, Cassie. The Chancellor can meet us here."

  He was right. I hadn't even considered that I'd place Talbert and his wife in danger, merely by renting their garage apartment. What was I supposed to do about all of this? "Here," Rob pulled the box of tissues off the table and handed them to me. "It'll be fine," he soothed, pulling me against him while I wiped my eyes. "We'll figure this out."

  * * *

  Parke

  The connecting flight in Houston got away late; I landed in Birmingham at six-thirty, half an hour later than planned. I called Cassie while the plane taxied to the gate.

  "I'm still at Cliff's place," she informed me. "Rob thinks my landlord may be targeted if I go back to the apartment."

  I hadn't thought about that. At least not yet. She'd been forced to kill twice since she'd been here, which was less than three weeks. I'd thought Alabama safe enough, once Ross and his bunch were eliminated.

  How wrong I was. "Daniel's flying in from Shreveport; he'll be here in an hour," I said. "I'll wait for him, rent a car and come find you."

  "All right." She rattled off an address; I made a note on my phone.

  "Have you had any sleep? You sound dead tired," I pointed out.

  "I haven't been able to sleep. Cliff has the two dismembered bodies in his barn; I'm afraid to go look, it all gives me the shivers."

  "Then don't. Daniel and I will take a look when we get there," I said. At that moment, I wished I could send her back to Seattle, where Mom and Destiny were. I couldn't. Whether I wanted it or not, Cassie was the best defense anybody in Alabama had so far. "I'll let you know when we're on the road," I said. "See you soon, sweetheart." I ended the call and pocketed my phone.

  I'd be a fool if I didn't connect the murderous ice demon to Morton King, who'd found a murderous rock demon, and together they'd killed Blake Donovan. All this had happened quickly after Ray Diablo's death, which led me to believe that Mort had known Ray was alive and digging around in Ross' house for who knew what. He'd also learned that Ray was dead, unless I was mistaken in my guesses.

  Daniel agreed; I'd talked to him about it while I waited on the delayed flight out of Houston. It isn't easy to find a private place for a conversation in an airport; I was grateful for a member's lounge available during the layover.

  Daniel also reported another murder in Shreveport the night before. We came to the conclusion that there were two ice demons, perhaps working together to confuse us and the authorities.

  I figured there was plenty more to learn from Cassie and those she worked for; I merely waited for the opportunity to speak face to face about it.

  Daniel was bringing his two rock demon enforcers with him; I made a mental note to find more enforcers to put on the payroll. It looked as if we would need them and soon.

  How had things gone so badly so fast? Had my head been too buried in the sand to realize that my father's murder was only the opening volley of what looked to be an extended war? Somehow, I'd managed to toss Cassie right in the middle of it, too. How could anyone guess that Alabama would be ground zero when Shakkor Agdah reappeared?

  Yes, Dad told me about them when I was sixteen, after my rock demon manifested the first time. He'd believed the cloaked ones exterminated long ago—like many did. I'd already begun to worry about where they'd reappeared—and how.

  My cell phone rang; it was Daniel. His flight was on the ground. "I'll meet you in baggage claim," I said and strode in that direction.

  * * *

  Cassie

  "We have four in the van—Daniel and two enforcers," Parke said. "Is there enough room for all of us, or do we need hotel rooms?"

  Cliff could hear a mouse cough from two houses away. Of course he heard what Parke said. "We have enough room," he nodded.

  "Cliff says there's enough room. I called the landlord earlier and told him I was spending the weekend in Birmingham."

  "Good idea—he won't be able to give your location away," Parke agreed. "We'll be there in half an
hour, I think—we just got on the highway."

  "All right, be careful," I said. I didn't tell him I'd seen people die the night before. The idea of him being on the road scared me witless. At this point, I had no idea who wanted us dead or how they'd gotten information on any of us.

  "We will. Don't worry, sweetheart. We're coming."

  "Sounds like he's willing to listen to us now," Cliff drawled after I ended the call.

  Gina, who'd decided to stay the night, frowned at Cliff. "Stop being a werewolf for five minutes, all right? Cassie's having a hard enough time as it is."

  "Yeah," Cliff looked apologetic for a moment. "Sorry. I know you're not used to bodies or hearing about covered up murders."

  "No." I hugged myself and shivered. Demons that died on a full moon reverted to their elements if killed in demon form. That's what I'd seen the night of the Christmas war. Dead werewolves and shifters had already been carted away by the time I came back to myself that night.

  "Kent's on the way," Gina said, coming to me and giving me a hug. "He and I," she hesitated and pulled away.

  "I know. I figured that out when I met you the first time," I gave her a weak smile.

  "Thanks for saving the furball over there," she pointed at Cliff. "Again."

  "Not a problem. I'm used to him by now," I shrugged. "Rob, too, although he sort of saved himself, last night. At least he's dressed more comfortably, now."

  "That helmet doesn't do a thing for his hair," Gina grinned.

  "I've had a bath," Rob pretended to be upset.

  "You smell so much better, too," Gina went to him and pinched his cheek. He laughed. It was a nice sound; one I hadn't heard since the evening before. Everything that happened since then ensured that nobody felt like laughing.

  When I'd showered earlier, I'd used more hot water than I usually did, waiting for the steam and moist air to purge my fear and revulsion away. I'd killed three times, now. Every time, it was to save someone else.