The Elementals Collection

by L. B. Gilbert

  If she needed a hand, she could ask for it later—in the aforementioned next century.

  “I can help you find Fiona,” he said as she took hold of the doorknob.

  “Already found her,” she called back, letting the door swing shut behind her.

  10

  Diana wasn’t kidding. Tracking Fiona had been child’s play. It was similar to a witch’s locator spell, but Elementals didn’t need any sort of ritual to do it.

  She could track any supernatural she’d seen recently enough, which at that moment included everyone at that party. The trace wouldn’t last, but her biggest problem was usually identification of her prey, not how to find them. In this case, Diana’s job was made a little simpler by her knowledge of the vamp in question. She just set course for the signature of a female vampire near Elva’s age that had bolted from town at top speed.

  Fiona was hiding out in the Hamptons. Not at the lavish three-story home Gia said she owned. The vampire was also staying far from any of the coven’s properties. They had several mansions in the area Fiona could have used, but she’d borrowed one from another wealthy vampire of her acquaintance who had chosen to summer in Europe. That last she had found out from Logan, who had gotten in touch after her meeting with Pedro.

  I can’t put off my break-in to the Denon headquarters much longer, Diana thought as she rode out to Fiona’s bolt-hole. Granted, the damage done in that case wasn’t going to get much worse in the near future, but she had a beef with those corporate assholes. Of course, she had a grudge against most everyone she was sent after.

  It was dark by the time Diana parked her bike up the beach from where Fiona was staying. For a second, she toyed with the idea of simply parking out front and mowing down the security guards walking the perimeter, but she opted for stealth instead.

  Getting past any guards the vampires had posted wouldn’t have been a problem, but she was curious about who else might be watching Fiona, so she needed to check out the house first. If Diana were a member of this black circle, she would be watching the vampires to see if retribution was coming their way for using their properties for black rites, making fools of them in the process.

  Avoiding the guards did serve another purpose. If she fought them, she might end up killing one, and then she’d never hear the end of it from Serin. Not to mention she might end up tipping the balance to the black herself unnecessarily.

  The beach was dark with very little moonlight. Diana preferred it that way, given the superiority of her night vision. A vampire couldn’t see as well as an Elemental, although a Were probably could.

  Was the ocean always this loud? She hadn’t spent much time on a lot of beaches as part of her job. Ignoring the wistful tightening in her chest, she walked closer to the mansion, wishing she could linger to enjoy the rumble of the surf. Maybe with someone.

  Not a vampire, she told herself as she walked up the beach.

  Diana was close to the house when she sensed the hidden ward. It was buried in a sand dune facing the house’s back entrance. More than likely, there was a similar one on each side of the house.

  Diana focused her energy on the ward, neutralizing its energy without deactivating it so she could lift it instead of slipping past it. It wasn’t the kind vampires typically had fashioned for themselves. This was a black stone with woven reeds tied around it. She turned it over in her hand. The reeds were knotted intricately, making an occult pattern similar to others she had seen in past investigations. But this one was covered with black wax, a novel detail. It was vaguely like a witch’s ward to keep out intruders from their own homes. Only it had been modified to spy and leave a trace on any who passed it.

  Smart, Diana admitted.

  It was definitely not a standard witch ward, though it borrowed heavily from their tradition. No, whoever had made this baby was definitely an innovator. And not exactly well-versed in standard witchcraft. A highly trained witch could have accomplished something similar by spelling a simple stone. It was more complicated to create, but safer.

  As it was, this group risked a lot by leaving such an obvious ward where the vampires could have found it. And she was willing to bet one of these was sitting in front of every vampire-owned mansion in the Hamptons. The Broussard coven would retaliate against anyone who spied on them, but perhaps the circle didn’t care because they weren’t planning on staying in the area.

  With that disheartening thought, Diana put back the ward without deactivating it. It wouldn’t leave a trace on her. There was no need to tip her hand to the black circle by removing it. And if it were found, it wasn’t likely the vampires would move against the circle now. They wouldn’t risk getting in her way.

  Well, most of them wouldn’t.

  The vampire’s standard ward against intruders didn’t react to Diana’s entrance, either. She walked in through the back door into a darkened parlor like an invited guest. The spacious room was adorned in the latest style. Or what she assumed was the latest style. Interior decorating wasn’t exactly something she cared enough about to keep up with. She preferred the safe houses, which were conveniently pre-decorated. Serin or Gia always took care of that sort of thing. Their places always ended up in in warm earth tones or cool soothing colors that reminded Diana of the ocean and Atlantis.

  Walking down a darkened hallway, Diana sensed another guard doing an internal patrol around the corner. Blending into the shadows, she masked her presence.

  A sensitive like Alec might have been able to detect her, but in her experience, such people were too valuable to work as guards—unless you had money to burn. She waited until the man had passed and continued deeper into the darkened house.

  Fiona was definitely keeping a low profile. No party to hide in the crowd, which she had half-expected. No, her quarry was definitely shaken up and hiding quietly. Scanning upstairs, Diana found three people in the master bedroom. One was Fiona, the other was probably the daughter Alec had mentioned, and either the father or a servant. . .

  Well, only one way to find out.

  Diana walked upstairs to the second story bedroom the women were in and waltzed inside. The bedroom was decorated in the same clean modern style as the downstairs rooms. In contrast, the stunned vampires looked anachronistic—like they were dressed in period costume even though there wasn’t anything terribly old-fashioned about their clothing.

  Just overdressed for the occasion, as usual.

  Diana turned her attention to the older woman in the room. Yes, she’d caught a glimpse of her in the ballroom at the coven house. And one of the busty blonde shrinking into the corner. The daughter, of course. What did Alec call her? Ah yes, Sylvan.

  The last must be a servant after all. He was a monstrously huge man, like a rugby player that had been turned. Very recently from the looks of it. He was young enough to lack a healthy fear of her. He was almost dancing on his feet, clearly trying to decide whether or not to charge her.

  When the guard remained twitching in indecision, Fiona burst into speech. “Oh, stand down, Geoffrey! You can’t possibly win. And she’s not going to kill us. She is after the witches,” she said, sitting down at the vanity with a little harrumph.

  “There, was that so hard?” Diana asked no one in particular.

  This happened a little too frequently. Someone she needed to talk to would bolt, forcing her to chase them down, and then once found they would immediately crumble. It was so annoying.

  Neither the servant nor the pile of silicone in the corner responded to Fiona’s words. Are those breasts even real? Do vampires get plastic surgery? Would it keep?

  Suddenly Diana was inexplicably angry. Alec probably got an eyeful of those idiotic things on a regular basis. He probably expected that all the women in his sphere to display such cleavage. She pushed that thought out of her mind and refocused on Fiona.

  “I’m waiting,” Diana said a little more forcefully than she’d intended.

  “I didn’t know they were black witches. I didn’t
really know them at all.” Fiona’s voice held a distinct whine to it.

  Diana wrinkled her nose. “Yet you lent them coven property. Not exactly something a vamp does for a near stranger, is it?”

  Fiona wrung her hands. “I didn’t know them! I never even met them in person. But I knew the person who asked for the loan of the house. It was the owner of that club downtown, the new Underlife one.” She gestured at Sylvan who looked perplexed for a second.

  “Whore? That one?” Sylvan asked.

  “Seriously? A club named Whore?” Diana was briefly incensed on behalf of womankind. The older woman just shrugged. “And you know this man well enough that you lent him your coven leader’s house without a second thought?” she asked, shaking her head.

  “He said they promised me some beauty charms and a love spell. . .a. . .a permanent one.”

  “A permanent love spell? For whom?”

  Short-term love spells were hard to come by. A permanent one would be worth more than most countries domestic GDP.

  “For my daughter, of course, so that she will marry well,” Fiona answered, smoothing the skirt of her dress fastidiously.

  Diana looked over at Miss Silicone in genuine bewilderment. “You think those will have a problem attracting a suitor?”

  The servant made a choking sound as he stifled a laugh. And then she realized exactly whom the pair had in their sights.

  Of course, the rich future head of the coven might need a little push to choose someone like Sylvan as a mate. A scholar like him might need more than those double D’s as temptation.

  Diana started to feel a little better about Alec. If they felt they needed a love potion to secure him, then he must be a more discerning man than she gave him credit for.

  “When did the club owner approach you, and what is his name?” she asked, moving her arms behind her back to appear less threatening.

  Fiona fiddled with the large diamond pendant on the necklace she was wearing. “It was two weeks ago on Saturday, and I don’t know the club owner’s true name.”

  She turned to her daughter, but Sylvan shook her head. “Everyone calls him J,” Sylvan said.

  “That is all we know, I swear!” Fiona said in a rush. “We had no idea they were using children, I mean, why would they?”

  Diana studied the two women intently. Her built-in lie detector wasn’t going off. These two were pawns. And she would bet good money that they had no idea which black rites would require children. They probably didn’t know much about the craft at all; they simply bought the charms and wards like the other vamps and shifters with enough money.

  Diana sighed. “I’m of a mind to strip you of your power and leave you human just for your stupidity.”

  Both women shrank back from her. A pale and distraught Fiona whispered, “But we didn’t know!”

  “Exactly my point. Next time you traffic with witches, know who you are dealing with,” Diana said disgustedly. She turned for the door, their guard scrambling out of the way. She grabbed the handle, and then turned back. “Oh, and if I hear about either of you being in the market for another love spell, I will hunt the both of you down and strip away everything you hold dear. The coven will turn you out, and you will have to start husband-hunting all over again. . .in the human world.”

  Certain she’d spelled out their worst nightmare, she left.

  Diana walked back up the beach, annoyed that her lead was a lateral move. Instead of being one step closer to the circle, she had to go and question yet another intermediary.

  Well, this one better know something or she was going to get angry. And they won’t like it when I get angry. Diana snorted to herself. She had to stop letting Logan talk her into watching all those terrible comic book movies.

  She climbed the last sand dune before the sidewalk where she had parked her bike. Alec Broussard was standing next to it, waiting for her. Again. He was staring at the bike as she approached.

  “You drive a Suzuki Hayabusa,” he said in a faraway voice.

  He reached out to touch the matte black finish.

  Diana quickened her step. “Hey, are those clean?” she asked, slapping his hand away from her beloved bike.

  “I always wanted a bike this,” he said distantly.

  “I imagine you can afford one,” she said wryly, wondering what the hell he was doing there.

  “Yeah, it’s just. . .” He trailed off and gestured vaguely.

  “It would mess up your hair?”

  Alec broke from his bike-induced reverie and looked at her with a slight scowl. “I don’t care about my hair. It’s simply more convenient to be driven. It gives me more time to read.”

  She gave him a sad little shake of her head. “God, you’re a total nerd, aren’t you?”

  “No, I’m not,” he shot back through a stiff jaw before making a visible effort to relax. “Are the Corsairs still vampires?”

  “Fiona and Sylvan Corsairs? Is that seriously their name? Why do all vampire names sound like they’re out of a bad regency novel?”

  Alec frowned at her. It felt like being scolded by your substitute teacher. She huffed, blowing a strand of red hair out of her eyes.

  “Yes, they’re fine.”

  “And did they tell you where to find the witches?”

  “I have a lead,” she said in an oppressive tone, trying to discourage his prying. “But you should take heart. They won’t be looking for another witch to whip up a love spell for you anytime soon.”

  She climbed onto her bike and started the engine before he could ask her anything else. But the engine wasn’t loud enough to drown out the guttural groan he let out her words finally registered.

  “Oh, God.”

  Diana couldn’t hold back the grin that covered her face as she drove off.

  11

  Five hours later, Diana was back in the safe house apartment. In the end, she hadn’t had enough time to hit the club or to sneak into the Denon headquarters. Dawn was too close, and it was a long bike ride to and from the Hamptons. She should have taken the car, but she hated being surrounded by a box when she was upset. She’d had quite enough of that during her childhood.

  In her mind, there was a tug along the aether. She sat cross-legged on the bed and lit the candle wick with her mind.

  “Di?” Logan asked. “How did it go?”

  “Another lead, but technically no closer. I have to interrogate the owner of an Underlife club next,” she said, the distaste in her voice clear.

  “Which one?”

  “Whore.”

  “Oh, god, even I won’t go to that one,” Logan said contemptuously.

  Logan and Diana were technically both young enough to enjoy clubbing every night, but Diana hated crowds and the Underlife scene. Logan did the rounds but preferred dancing in the human clubs more, and always referred to the Underlife clubs as work.

  “It’s the principle of the thing,” Logan continued. “Whoever named that club should get knocked into next week.”

  “Well, I may get that chance,” Diana said, tugging off her boots.

  “And was loverboy there?” Logan asked.

  “When did Broussard become loverboy?” Diana asked, perplexed.

  “Well, it’s been a few days now, and you haven’t fried him like an egg yet. . .right? I’m right, aren’t I? Or do we need to send a delegation to his coven expressing our condolences?”

  “No, not yet. But give me time,” Diana replied dryly.

  “Oh, come on, I think you like him just a little bit,” Logan said suggestively before lapsing into an expectant silence.

  “He’s okay,” Diana finally said grudgingly, because she would never outright lie to Logan. “For a vampire.”

  “Well, look who’s making progress in the whole human interaction thing.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” Diana said as she flopped onto the bed still fully clothed, “and I would like to point out that there are no humans involved.”

  “Well, I’ve bee
n doing a little digging on him,” Logan informed her. “Our dear friend, the crown prince of darkness, went through a wild period in his sixties clear on through to his early hundreds, but soon after settled down into more scholarly pursuits. He’s been making the rounds through all the ancient collections. He started by trying to divine the true origin of vampires and spent years looking all over the world tying together the threads. . .only to give up in frustration.”

  Diana smiled. Logan sounded like a teenager gossiping on the phone.

  That’s because she is a teenager.

  “Yeah, well that gobbledygook would drive a saint mad if he took it seriously. And he obviously got something out of it. He solved the riddle of the Daywalker. Although now he thinks it’s a big secret he has to keep. He doesn’t get the true nature of the ritual. I think he thinks anyone can do it,” Diana said, tugging off her pants with one hand.

  “He told you that?” Logan asked in surprise.

  “No, but it’s kind of obvious from the way he’s hiding it from the coven. He doesn’t trust his own parents.”

  “He shouldn’t. They’re total narcissists,” Logan said. “Anywho, loverboy got real interested in us after this thing in Prague.”

  “Yeah, he mentioned Prague,” Diana said, stretching out on the bed.

  “Yes ma’am, my illustrious predecessor did a number on some black witches. Loverboy got the Elemental bug after that, and he has spent a considerable amount of time since devoted to the study and search of little old us. . .in between other supernatural studies.”

  “He left that part out,” Diana said, unsure how she felt about this new information.

  “Oh, lots of scholars of the supernatural get the bug,” Logan dismissed. “Some chase us around for a time, but they all give up eventually. Not the healthiest of pastimes, but Alec seems all right to me. He’s not a fanatic or anything. Just someone in search of answers. Like a lot of people. You should give him a chance.”

  Diana frowned. “To do what exactly?”

  “Oh, I think you know,” Logan said coyly. “But back to the business at hand. What are you going to do now?”