"They're trying to determine that now, while telling everybody to keep away from connected rivers and streams. I'm not sure even boiling the water will be safe at this point." Prince Alfred was grimmer than I'd ever seen him; he didn't like that his state had been targeted like this.
"Have we seen dead animals?" Lance thought to ask.
"None reported," Alfred hunched his shoulders. "If we find these," he swept out a hand to encompass the interior of the small house, "what should we do with them?"
"I've seen them die by fire and beheading recently," I said, "but if it isn't a vampire doing the beheading, the weapon has to be a spelled weapon, according to the earth sprite General."
"I'm a rock demon," Alfred sputtered. "Why the hell would I have spelled weapons?"
"No reason at all," I attempted to calm his anger. "We've not dealt with this in our lifetime. We'll find a way to handle it, don't worry."
I could tell he was skeptical of my words.
Hell, I was skeptical of my words.
I'd spoken truth, though, to the fact that we hadn't seen this before. We needed solutions and we needed them fast. I had no doubt that Shakkor Agdah was celebrating this victory somewhere, even as they plotted their next move.
* * *
Dalton King
Morton waited in the car outside the restaurant. I was inside, having a second cup of coffee and waiting for our contact to arrive.
I blinked as he approached my booth; the fool had worn his uniform. My hands flexed as I considered killing him and finding another victim to bribe. I'd done this six times already; the others knew to come dressed in street clothes.
"Want coffee?" I gritted through clenched teeth.
"I wouldn't mind," he said.
I was forced to sit with the fool for half an hour, while he drank coffee and talked about his hunting dogs. I was glad to hand the packages to him and get out after leaving money for the bill on the table.
* * *
Cassie
I got a text from Parke around eleven the following morning. Found a house where Shakkor Agdah probably stayed, he informed me. Upstream from Tyree. No sign of them now. Be safe, baby.
First, I was surprised that he'd texted me. Second, that he sounded as if he still cared. You be careful, too. I replied.
He'd let me go too easily, in my opinion. Anybody who loved someone would fight to keep them. Screw being Princess of Alabama. I didn't feel like a princess. I felt like a woman who'd been abandoned by her husband—for the second or third time.
"Having second thoughts?" Cliff came to stand beside me, a cup of coffee in his hands. I stood at the windows in Parke's makeshift office—well, it was my office, now. Outside, Will was repairing the sprinkler system.
"Somebody who can turn furry probably shouldn't stand so close to somebody who can become a fireball in a matter of seconds," I pointed out. "Especially when they're angry."
"If you burn the King of the Werewolves to a crisp, I can't imagine that my furry brethren would be pleased," he said before sipping his coffee.
"I don't know another fire demon," I pointed out. "I've never met one. At least you have furry brethren."
"Rob and I can fill in for fire demon friends—until you find some." I watched the corner of Cliff's mouth curl upward as he took another sip of coffee.
"I didn't say I was looking for fire demon friends," I pointed out. "Just that I'd never met another one."
"I know you feel abandoned," Cliff lowered his cup.
"Oh, we're being serious now?" I glared at him.
"It wasn't our intention to break up a marriage. When it looked as if it would break on its own, we stood aside. It's too important that you take this position, Cassie. The enemy will have to think twice about a full, frontal assault against you."
"Cliff, I have no idea what I'm doing. I have zero experience. Rob glossed over that last night. I can't imagine that either of you want to hold my hand constantly so I won't fuck this up in every way possible."
"Cassie, I'd hug you if you weren't so mad at me," Cliff said. "This can be temporary, remember? Rob and I made that promise to Parke, and you don't tell lies to the Chancellor."
"There can be a huge difference between temporary in human situations and temporary in paranormal circumstances."
"I know. I just feel a war is coming, and we need our best to fight back."
"I'm not one of our best," I pointed out. "I feel like a fool—an inexperienced fool—most of the time. The whole time I was trying to kill Ray, all I could do was hold onto him while he rolled around in Ross' cellar. I had absolutely no control—until he melted."
"How else would you kill a rock demon?" Cliff went back to his coffee.
"I'm thinking of a name for you right now," I said, turning my gaze to the yard again. "It isn't a nice one, either."
"What name would that be?"
"Dickhead, since you asked so politely."
Cliff snorted a laugh into his coffee cup.
* * *
"We ah, have a meeting scheduled, Princess," Rob announced when I walked into the kitchen in search of lunch.
"What?" I stopped halfway between the door and the fridge to stare at him.
"The air sprite Queen and the fire sprite King are requesting an audience. I set up a dinner meeting. Averill is coming, too, so three sprite royals will be present."
"No," I wiped a hand down my face. "Say it's a joke. Please."
"It's not a joke," Gina, who stood at the sink loading dishes into the dishwasher, turned toward me. "We have to figure out what to do about dinner."
"Pizza has been requested, Princess," Rob gave a mock bow. I wanted to slap my forehead.
"Stop bowing—even if you're teasing," I hissed at him. It was bad enough that we were serving pizza to sprite royalty. Bowing was so far over the top I wanted to scream.
"Of course, Princess," Rob curtsied.
"I want to hit you," I growled before closing the distance between the fridge and me and flinging the door open. Rob snickered behind me while I jerked sliced ham and mustard from the fridge and headed for the counter to make a sandwich.
* * *
Parke
"Anything important that I need to see right away?" I walked past Jon's cubicle toward my office as I spoke.
"It's on your desk," Jon said. "I put everything together in order of priority," he added. "Want coffee?"
"Yes, please."
"You got it." Jon rose and sprinted toward the break room.
Prince Alfred hadn't been pleased when I'd boarded the plane in California. If I didn't have the bloody court appearance scheduled the following day, I'd have stayed to keep him calm. I worried that he would do something rash to expose us if things weren't handled properly.
Trey and Daniel stayed behind to do what they could to keep Alfred happy and track Shakkor Agdah with some of Alfred's people.
Like Alfred, I worried that more deaths would come soon; it was only a matter of where and when.
"I'm at the office, Mom," I spoke into my cell phone. "How's everything there?"
"We're fine," Mom replied. "I haven't told Destiny about the annulment." Mom said the word as if it made her ill.
"Let me tell her, all right? I hope I can explain this well enough that she'll understand."
"She's a fledgling ice demon, going through puberty. Good luck with that," Mom voiced her opinion.
"Yeah. Great. Look, I have a pile of stuff to take care of. I'll be home late."
"All right. Let me know when you head this way."
"I will. Thanks, Mom."
"Don't thank me," she said. "I'm still planning to yell at you about this."
"Yeah. I know."
* * *
Cassie
Some of Averill's people arrived before he did. They took over the formal dining room, which we hadn't used, yet. When they were finished, the table was set with fine linens, delicate china, polished silver and crystal glasses for wine and water.
>
"All this for pizza?" I hissed at Rob, who stood in the wide doorway, surveying the results with arms crossed over his chest.
"It's expected," he shrugged.
"Right. It's outrageous, in my opinion."
"Get used to it, Princess," Rob grinned. I wanted to smack him. "Wear something nice but casual," he added.
"Urrgh," I growled and stomped away. I could hear him laughing all the way to my bedroom.
* * *
Queen De-Leah of the air sprites and King Keiran of the fire sprites sat across from one another; King Averill sat at the end of the table while I sat at the head, opposite him. Rob, Cliff and a few others took their places along the table in-between.
"I am most pleased to have a fire demon Princess in charge of Alabama," De-Leah smiled before lifting a wedge of pizza to her lips and biting into it.
Damn—these people really liked their pizza.
"Thank you," I nodded respectfully to De-Leah.
"I hear you helped win the Christmas war in Seattle," King Keiran said next.
"I was certainly there," I said, hoping not to trap myself with my own words. I had no idea who'd told him anything about the Christmas war and wasn't prepared to get into a debate regarding the veracity of what he'd heard.
"Many in the paranormal community are pleased to hear of Ross' death—and that of the Prince he served," De-Leah observed.
I was one of those people. I still wanted to curse the ground Ross died on, but didn't say it. I'm sure my audience knew I'd been engaged to the asshole, albeit unwillingly. They appeared to know everything else.
It made me wonder what their communications network consisted of, and if it were spoken mind-to-mind or whether they depended upon more mundane means for the sharing of information.
Those were questions for Rob when this was over. "Excellent pizza, better than last time," Averill lifted a wedge and smiled at me.
This time, at my insistence, we'd ordered from the Mellow Mushroom. Shredded and grated parmesan in small, crystal bowls with silver spoons for dipping were scattered throughout the table, so anyone could reach either. Pepper flakes in crystal shakers sat beside the small bowls.
I'd never eaten pizza at such an elegantly appointed table in my life.
Rob had chosen the wine; I didn't know what to get. Until I met Parke, I'd had limited experience with alcoholic beverages.
I was learning—slowly.
As for other things—I had the idea that I couldn't afford to learn those slowly. Cliff and Rob both believed a war was coming; a war much bigger than the Christmas war. I still didn't know much about Shakkor Agdah and needed information.
"I need information on Shakkor Agdah," I blurted before I could stop myself.
One of Rob's eyebrows was lifted so high it almost disappeared into his hairline. Averill beamed at me; De-Leah blinked at my abruptness.
"Gets right to the point," Keiran said. "I find that refreshing."
* * *
By the time our guests had left, I'd been gifted with earrings from De-Leah and a bracelet from Keiran; trinkets for the new Princess of Alabama. The earrings were opals, with all the colors the sky could turn in them. The bracelet was rubies the color of fire.
Keiran's race, the fire sprites, could only form fire. They couldn't be fire, like I could. Rob told me afterward that the fire sprites often revered fire demons, since they could handle the same element.
I was promised information on Shakkor Agdah, translated into English. I had no idea when it would arrive; Rob merely shrugged when I asked him about it.
The vampires had records, too, but I worried the information from them would go straight to Parke and I'd have to ask him for it. I also worried that the vamps didn't want anybody else reading their records; therefore, they could be withheld.
There'd been no information—no new sightings or murders—attributed to my father and grandfather. I didn't think of them as actually related; their actions were so far removed from anything I would do.
I suppose it was ironic that I was now Princess of Alabama instead of Jasper Bridges, the Prince Ross and my father had supported in the past. Either way, I suspected my estranged relatives had something planned, probably at Shakkor Agdah's command.
With a sigh, I folded the jeans I'd worn at dinner and set them on the high chest beside the bathroom door, next to the pyramid Aunt Shelbie sent me. It made me wonder if Claude passed the same thing to my grandfather, or if it were actually another artifact.
What did it matter? We didn't know what this artifact really was, or why Shelbie thought it was important. Regardless, the broken-topped object sat upon the chest, teasing me with questions about its origin and purpose on most nights.
I thought about Parke, too, although I knew I was torturing myself. Yes, part of me understood. A bigger part of me didn't. Mostly I felt like a fraud. Princess of Alabama. What a full-blown, fucked-up joke.
* * *
Zedarius
One of the pyramids was in the house a few yards away. One was now in the hands of the enemy. A third—I could only assume it had been destroyed, somehow. I couldn't feel it, so that was my conclusion.
The one in the house was damaged; perhaps someone had attempted to destroy it as well. Nevertheless, it still held power.
The one in enemy hands?
Whole and pulsing.
That meant only one of the original four was still buried where it should be. Someone had found the others.
They should have left all of them alone, hidden and buried where they were. To use a human phrase, they were playing with fire and expecting not to get burned.
Fools.
The one nearby lay quiet, as if it were content to be where it was. I was satisfied with that. Yes, I knew it was damaged. As yet, it hadn't acted to correct that damage. If things changed with it, however, I could be forced to deal with that.
I worried that I would have to deal with a great many things.
* * *
Parke
After the hearing, I headed back to the office to work on what I hadn't touched the day before. I had resumes sitting on my desk, too, for those who wanted Geoffrey and Annabelle's spots.
A partner's position required a buy-in. I couldn't believe how many wanted to waive that requirement. I held out three from the stack; they'd make good associates, with a potential for a partner's position in a few years. I'd discuss that with them when I had time.
Time. I had no idea when I'd have time. Yes, we were in a lull. I merely waited for Shakkor Agdah to make their move. I hoped we'd have what it took to stand our ground against them and this new, poisonous disease they'd developed.
* * *
Ruudann
I was named after a god. It was written in the language of my ancestors, although few could read the words any longer. I could make out names and places; little else. We had translations, and those translations had been translated, to keep up with the planet's turnings.
We knew—my followers and I, that the artifacts held our immortality. One was destroyed already, loosening the grip on our power to create spells.
One I held in my compound; it had been delivered by my demon slaves. They knew not that they were slaves; they thought they were cooperating for a piece of the new planet we intended to create.
Once our abilities were unlocked completely.
I held off destroying the artifact in my possession. I had to be sure of my followers before bestowing that level of power upon them indiscriminately. Those I deemed unworthy would die. Then I would destroy the small pyramid.
After that, the third and fourth artifacts must be found, so we will have our full power and immortality again. It was promised in the ancient texts. I intended to bring about that reality.
The stage was set; all I had to do was give the word for the play to begin.
* * *
Cassie
"Will, would you like to have lunch with us? We have more than enough chili to go around."
Yes, I'd made a pot of chili—enough for an army, by the look of things. I'd sent Cliff and Lyle to the grocery store with an actual list so decent meals could be cooked.
Will looked up from his work, his eyes squinting in noon sunlight. A baseball cap, with the visor turned toward the back, was doing him no good whatsoever at the moment.
"I am hungry," he admitted, his words evenly spaced, as if he'd only noticed that he was hungry when I mentioned it.
"There's plenty, and cornbread or crackers to go with it, your choice," I said. Gina made cornbread, saying she preferred it to crackers.
"Thank you. I'll wash up and be right in."
* * *
"This is good," Will pointed the cracker he held toward his bowl of chili. "I like the added beans and cheese, too."
We'd made chili beans, too; you could add them to your chili or not, because some people didn't want them. To me, it wasn't chili if it didn't have beans and shredded cheese.
"Averill would love this," Rob said, having a second bowl.
"Let me guess—his cook doesn't make chili, either," I said. We carefully skirted the fact that Averill was King of the earth sprites; for all Will knew, he could be Rob's friend who was wealthy enough to have his own cook.
"As I said, healthy and natural, all the way," Rob smirked.
Will didn't seem to notice the spots visible on Gina's neck; I was ready to tell him it was a tattoo. He didn't ask and appreciated the meal. He offered to help with the dishes and clearing away, too, but I told him he had enough to do.
He grinned at me before walking out the door; I realized then that I hadn't seen him smile until then.
"Nice guy. Well spoken," Gina said while rinsing bowls in the sink.
"Not what I expected," I said. "Although I really didn't know what to expect, I guess. I thought he'd be in a T-shirt and overalls all the time. Younger than I thought, too."
"Yeah. Well put together."
"If you two will stop ogling the help," Rob interrupted our conversation by laying the cornbread pan on the counter between us.
"Why? Jealous?" Gina teased. "It's obvious he gets plenty of exercise."
"Hmmph," Rob lifted his nose in the air and stalked out of the kitchen. Gina smothered a laugh.
Your Money's Worth: Seattle Elementals, Book 1 Page 19
