Your Money's Worth: Seattle Elementals, Book 1

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Your Money's Worth: Seattle Elementals, Book 1 Page 13

by Connie Suttle


  "Parke, look at me," I said. He turned dark, tormented eyes in my direction. "I would order his death myself," I said. "Just for his involvement with Ross and for what he did to Destiny and me."

  "It looks like he's involved in other things, too, and some of it may be worse," Parke said.

  "Like what?"

  "Like he's involved with Fli-Bi-Net. The government knows they stole from Hillman. The agent I talked with didn't go into detail, but Fli-Bi-Net may be involved in this paranormal war in some way."

  "You're joking?" I breathed.

  "We'll find out more tomorrow night, I hope," Parke said. "I'm officially putting you back on the firm's payroll—as my personal assistant in the field. I can't wait to hear what Fli-Bi-Net and your father have been up to."

  Chapter 9

  Cassie

  I was watching the noon news the following day while having a sandwich with Parke and Daniel. A small California town was getting flooded by heavy rainfall. Most residents left after the flood warnings went out, but several decided to stay and tough it out.

  A reporter, draped in a hooded poncho, interviewed one of the remaining residents while I munched on ham and cheese.

  "Crazy," Parke nodded at the small television screen sitting on the kitchen counter. "Half the town washed away already and that guy wants to stay."

  "They stay during tornadoes, volcanoes and every other kind of natural disaster, and then wonder what happened when they're placed in dire straits and the authorities have to pull them out, or worse still, they die." I set the rest of my sandwich back on my plate with a sigh.

  After our talk the evening before, Parke had slept on the living-room sofa. I didn't like that at all.

  I needed my head on his shoulder and his arms around me. He'd said he loved me the night before, and gave me a quick peck before leaving me alone in Shelbie's bed. I considered that I should be in class, too, but Parke had already started the withdrawal process at school, so I wouldn't be penalized when I tried to get back in sometime later.

  For now, none of us knew how much later that could be. I'd sent a text message to Binita, telling her I had a family emergency and had to withdraw from classes. I hoped she'd accept that excuse and wouldn't try to call me back.

  I didn't want her in more danger than she already was, if my suspicions were correct.

  Daddy, what have you done? I asked silently. Did Mom find out your hands were this dirty? Is that why she's dead? How does Fli-Bi-Net fit into all this? I never considered you a technophile, or anything other than Ross' patsy.

  I still considered Ross the catalyst in all this, but what if I were wrong? What if he and Daddy were partners? What if Daddy left town, in case Ross' attempt to claim the Chancellor's seat didn't go as planned?

  "I'm driving myself crazy," I admitted aloud, startling Lance, who'd walked into the kitchen to get something to drink.

  "I think that's going around," Daniel said, his voice dry. "I'm still wondering why Alabama is ground zero for this. You'd think they'd pick a bigger, more important venue to unleash Armageddon."

  "You got me there," I said. "I don't have a clue, either."

  "Mail." Lyle walked in, waving a handful of envelopes he'd pulled from Shelbie's mailbox. It looked as if the Post Office didn't know that Shelbie was gone, yet. He handed it to me before I could ask for it.

  "Her PO Box is up for renewal," I waved the card. "I guess I'll have to go check it before closing that out."

  "We can do that this afternoon, if you want," Parke said.

  "Not without me," Daniel held up a hand.

  "Wouldn't have it any other way," Parke agreed.

  * * *

  "There's a package notice," I said, going through the pile of mail that had stacked up in Aunt Shelbie's mailbox.

  "I'll get it," Daniel held out a hand.

  "Awesome," I said, handing him the card before sifting through the rest of the mail. "It's probably the lotion she always ordered online."

  "Most of these are junk, with a few bills," Parke said, looking over my shoulder. Daniel was back in less than five minutes. "We need to do this in the car," Daniel's voice was curt.

  "Huh?" I looked up from the stack of mail. He held a carefully wrapped, four-slice toaster-sized box in his hand, with Fragile stickers pasted on it. "This is addressed to you," Daniel lowered his voice. "In care of your aunt, and sent by your aunt."

  "Let's go." Parke pulled me toward the glass doors of the Post Office before I could mumble a reply. He wouldn't allow me to open it on the way back to Shelbie's house, either. I'd seen the postmark; the package was mailed just before Shelbie died.

  What was so important that she'd mailed it to me? She could have given it to her attorney. Had she known she was about to die? If she'd had time to mail the package, she'd had time to carry it to her lawyer's office.

  "Careful," Parke said as I cut through three layers of tape to open the box on the kitchen table.

  I held my breath—and my retort—for several seconds before continuing with my task. Pulling back the flaps after setting Shelbie's kitchen knife on the table, I stared at the small, white envelope with my name carefully written on it, which lay atop a folded pile of documents and a large manila envelope. The manila envelope looked suspiciously like the one Claude had passed to the stranger who resembled Daddy.

  "Letter first," Parke breathed.

  My hands shook as I lifted the flap and pulled out a single sheet.

  Cassie, Shelbie wrote, I don't have much time. They're coming for me, and not just because I helped you and Destiny get away. I took something from Ross that he needs to continue with his plans.

  I didn't know until recently what he was doing, but I know now. He has made friends with something terrible, baby girl. Those friends want to eliminate everything human, but only after they destroy any paranormal who stands against them.

  I know you probably haven't heard of Shakkor Agdah before, and I should have told you. I thought they were gone for good after the last paranormal war. I was wrong. I hope you're the one reading this letter instead of Ross; if he gets it, then the world is already his.

  I'll close with this; your mother always said the fire demons were instrumental in winning the last war. There may only be a few of them left. Don't let them take you. You are more important than you think.

  One more thing; when you were born, I bought shares for you from a small computer company that was only beginning to make its way in the world. Those shares have split several times since then. I give them to you now. I'd have done it sooner, but Ross came into the picture and I didn't want the money going to him.

  Guard what I stole from Ross with your life, and never let Shakkor Agdah get near it. They want it badly and learned that Ross had acquired it from somewhere. That object is likely the reason they made any sort of deal with him. It certainly wasn't his manners or stellar personality that drew them into his orbit.

  I love you. Destiny, too.

  Aunt Shelbie.

  Parke held me while I wept.

  * * *

  Parke

  Daniel sent for the werewolf and the sprite. I wanted them there when the object was pulled from the envelope. I hoped the sprite would know what it was if the rest of us didn't.

  Once Cassie calmed down after reading her aunt's letter, she opened the stock documents. As Shelbie said, she'd purchased stock in what was now the most popular technology company in the world.

  A five-thousand-dollar initial investment was now worth more than eight million. I agreed with Shelbie—Ross Diablo would have taken the money if she'd given the stock certificates to Cassie.

  "How did she take this from Ross?" Cassie blinked at me. At least tears no longer clung to her lashes, although her eyes still bore the pain of reading Shelbie's last words to her.

  "Sweetheart, long ago, according to my father, water demons were the most cunning spies. Water is everywhere. What better way to disguise yourself to get in almost anywhere?"
r />   "This envelope looks a lot like the one Claude gave to that man," she said.

  I went still for a moment. "You're sure?" I asked.

  "Yeah. I saw it, Parke. Shape is similar, size similar, I swear."

  "I believe you," I held up a hand—Cassie looked as if she would start crying again, and I didn't want to upset her with my skepticism. Daniel said we should question Claude. I was beginning to think he was right.

  Something else bothered me, too. Why hadn't Shakkor Agdah come out in greater force against us already? Why hadn't they stood with Ross in the Christmas war? Something unusual was going on, and I had no clue how to answer any of my questions.

  Or where to start.

  "Are you packed, baby?" I asked Cassie. So far, at least, things were moving smoothly on the new quarters. I was becoming claustrophobic and paranoid inside Shelbie's old house.

  "I'm packed, but I want to go through some of Shelbie's things—her jewelry and stuff. Destiny and I want those things because Shelbie loved them."

  "Then go look through them now. I'll let you know when Rob and Cliff get here."

  * * *

  Cassie

  Shelbie, what did you do? How did you do it? I asked silently as I opened the top drawer in her jewelry chest. Why did you know to do it? I added.

  Had she overheard something, or seen something, to lead her to believe Ross had something Shakkor Agdah wanted?

  Too many objects from too many scenes in popular films invaded my mind. Those were foolish imaginings. It could be something as inane as a spoon, used to feed the first baby Shakkor Agdah, for all I knew.

  "It's not the right size for a spoon," I reminded myself as I lifted Shelbie's favorite diamond earrings from the drawer. They were small diamond drops; I'd seen her wear them to funerals and other functions, when she had to dress for the occasion.

  A jade necklace lay in the drawer, with matching studs, and a bracelet Destiny and I had bought for Shelbie's last birthday. She'd worn it almost constantly after we'd given it to her. She hadn't died with it on, however.

  "I'll take the whole chest," I mumbled, shutting the drawer. "Parke can complain if he wants to; I can't do this right now."

  "They're here," Parke poked his head in Shelbie's closet to inform me.

  "I'm taking the chest with me," I said. "I can't go through all her things right now. It's too painful."

  "I know. Mom waited nine months before she set foot in Dad's closet," he said, reaching for my hand. "Let's see what's in that envelope for now. We'll take the chest with us when we leave."

  Rob and Cliff waited in the kitchen when Parke and I walked in; Daniel, Lance and Lyle had gathered, too, in case the envelope's contents were dangerous.

  I had a feeling Shelbie would have said that in her letter if it were true—after all, she'd placed it in the box after stealing it from Ross. Nevertheless, I watched as Rob covered his hands in blue investigator's gloves and lifted the gummed flap of the envelope, much like a surgeon might if he were about to perform a transplant.

  The object was stone of some sort—marble, maybe, almost black with veins of gold and silver. Carved in the form of a pyramid, it fit easily in Rob's palm and gleamed beneath the light in Shelby's kitchen. It had one flaw—the pyramid's top had been broken off. Carved, minute writings covered every side, including the bottom.

  "What the hell is that?" Parke asked.

  "It's a dedication, I think," Rob said, lifting the pyramid to examine one side. "This side is written in ancient Greek. This side," he turned the thing around, "is written in Latin. The third side, here," he turned it again, "is in Coptic Egyptian."

  "What about the bottom?" I asked.

  Rob turned the pyramid upside down. "I don't recognize this one."

  "Is this Shakkor Agdah's version of the Rosetta Stone?" Parke asked.

  "I don't think so," Rob replied, studying the side written in Latin. "This side doesn't say the same thing as the Greek side."

  "Great. Three sides in three languages that say different things, and no way in hell to figure out what the bottom says," Daniel sighed.

  "Like I said, it looks like a dedication—to three different people—at least in the languages that I can decipher. The top part in each case is broken off, and who knows where that is," Rob grumbled.

  "Does it list names?" Parke asked.

  "No, that's the part that's broken off. Each one starts with a description, as near as I can tell," he said, holding up the pyramid. "Each description is different, so it's not the same person."

  "So we have a dedication to possibly four people, the fourth in a language we don't recognize. Is there somebody who might recognize it?" I asked.

  "I can ask scholars from earth, fire and air to take a look," Rob said, naming three sprite races. "They'll be the final authority on the exact wording in each of these cases anyway. They can determine age, too, I think."

  "What the hell does Shakkor Agdah want with that?" Lance asked. "It looks useless to me."

  "A memento, perhaps?" Cliff suggested.

  "That's all it could be," Lance snorted. "Otherwise, it's just a hunk of rock."

  "It has pretty veins of gold and silver," I pointed out. "I think they chose that piece of marble because of the nice lines and swirls in it."

  "So Shakkor Agdah has an artistic side—provided they made the thing to start with," Daniel frowned. "Remember, they're responsible for the Black Death, or so the sprite says."

  "I was there," Rob said quietly, placing the pyramid on the table and shaking his head. "When they do their worst this time, what will stop them? They have access to sophisticated weapons, not just biological ones."

  "I say we put it back in the box and make sure nobody knows we have it until the scholars examine it," Parke held up a hand. He was acting as the Chancellor and making a decision on the matter.

  "I will send a message to my King," Rob said, bowing to the Chancellor.

  * * *

  "We should have thought about supplies," I said, going through empty kitchen cabinets in the new house. I could have brought what wasn't perishable from Shelbie's house at least.

  I hadn't thought about that until now. She'd had staples—sugar, flour, coffee—that sort of thing, plus a coffeepot and pots and pans.

  "I can have Daniel and Lance clear out her kitchen for you tomorrow," Parke placed a hand on the back of my neck and massaged it gently. I want to take you to bed, I just can't, his mental sending made me sigh with longing.

  "I know," I whispered and hugged myself. Park's hand left my skin, making me shiver. I wanted that warmth—that reassurance.

  Why did this happen now, when we needed each other?

  "I managed to get the utilities in my name and the alarm system reactivated with a few phone calls," Parke said and walked away to look out the kitchen window. Less than fifty yards away was the boathouse and the lake beyond that. Sunset was almost upon us, so you could barely see the water.

  "What about dinner tonight?" I asked.

  "Lyle is picking up pizza and a few necessities," Parke said. "Stop worrying; we can take care of ourselves if we're forced to," he turned a wry smile in my direction.

  "What about the FBI Agent?" I asked.

  "He won't call until sundown; I figure we'll know something in the next hour or so." Parke's cell phone rang before he could say anything else. I wasn't close enough to see who it was, but it looked as if Parke recognized the name and number on his cell before answering with a curt "Yeah?"

  Parke's right hand raked through his hair, indicating his aggravation and stress after only a few seconds listening to the one on the other end. "I don't know what to do about that," Parke admitted. "How many? Have they managed to stop it before it went farther downstream?"

  "Fuck," Parke mumbled after listening for a few more seconds. "Yes, I'll do research. I've never heard of this happening before."

  Several more seconds passed before Parke said, "I'll do what I can, but it won't bring anybody b
ack." He ended the call shortly after that.

  "Trouble," his dark eyes met mine. I watched his mouth curl into an angry, frustrated frown. "That was the Prince of California. He says a water demon was killed by poison and their water was somehow poured into the floodwaters going through Tyree, California. The people who decided to stay all died this morning, after coming in contact with the contaminated water."

  "How?" I whispered. "How is that possible? I didn't think any of us were susceptible to poisons."

  "I've never seen a poison that could take one of us down, sweetheart," he walked toward me and took my face in his hands. "I think an ice demon killed the water demon, and a poison was added to the melting water after the fact. I believe Prince Alfred is jumping the gun on the facts. Like I told him, I'll have to do research to see whether something like that has ever been reported."

  "This is crazy," I let my forehead sink onto Parke's shoulder. "How many died?"

  "Seventeen," his chest rumbled with his answer. "Seventeen humans, who should have been relatively safe. Alfred is waiting to hear the human announcement of what sort of poison was used."

  "There are so many kinds of poison that can kill them," I said, wrapping my arms around his waist and burrowing against him. "They're so fragile at times."

  "I know."

  "We have supplies," Cliff and Rob walked in, filled grocery bags gripped in strong fingers. The clunk of canned goods onto granite countertops interrupted my hug with Parke.

  Rob winked at me when I stepped away. "Want to help put this stuff away? There's more in the van outside," he grinned.

  "I didn't know you had a van," I said, frowning at Rob. It was no use trying to tell him we'd just gotten bad news; he and Cliff had gone out of their way to stock the kitchen for us. That deserved a big thank you, in my opinion.

  "Just bought it before heading for the store. Don't need anybody looking for existing vehicles, do we?"

  "I guess not," I said while digging into the first grocery bag.

  "We bought it under an alternate identity, so they'll have a hard time tracking us down," Cliff said. "Fridge stuff in these two," he pointed out two bags he'd just set on the counter.

 

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