“I don’t think that was always true,” she said.
“It was for me when I was working,” he said with a smile. “I knew some of those other types. Men who staged fake rituals among primitive peoples so they could write about them. I did not approve.”
“Staged rituals like Krippendorf’s tribe type stuff?”
“Yes, only worse. Not exactly the right note for dinner conversation, though,” Alec said, turning the conversation to New Orleans history and legends of the supernatural tied to the city. He was one of those who maintained that the city was special.
“I feel different here,” he confessed.
Diana pursed her lips. “Our kind feels the same everywhere. New Orleans is a nice place but not extraordinary to us, because we feel her magic everywhere.”
It was almost the complete truth.
“And you don’t feel even a special tingle here? Or Stonehenge? The Pyramids?” He prodded as he poured her more wine.
“Not really. Some awe, of course. A sense of history. I like ancient ruins. To some extent, we can superimpose our own history over some of those sites. But I don’t often get a chance to do that kind of thing. No time to stop and smell the roses.”
He nodded. “I imagine you are kept busy. What happens after?”
“What do you mean?” she asked, swirling her wine the way she had seen him do before sipping it.
“After your service to Her ends?” he asked.
The question caught Diana off guard. She knew what happened in most cases. . .but didn’t think it applied to her. Thankfully the arrival of the waiter saved her from answering.
“You have to have the Oysters Rockefeller. It was invented here,” Alec suggested.
“I was thinking shrimp remoulade. Why don’t you get the Oysters?” Diana asked.
“I decided on the alligator soup,” he said absently as he studied the menu.
“Oh, so it’s like that,” she whispered with a little head nod.
“Like what?” he said, putting the menu down to look her in the eyes.
“Predator eats predator. Dog eat dog,” Diana teased cheekily, resting her chin on her hands. “In a fight between you and the movie Predator, who would win?”
“Why don’t you bring us the shrimp remoulade and the oysters,” Alec said dryly to their waiter, who rushed away to fill their order.
“I agree. Predator would totally kick your ass,” she said, leaning back and nodding sagely.
“Don’t think I don’t know you’re avoiding my question,” he replied, shaking out his napkin with a snap and laying it in his lap with a flourish.
“And I’m going to keep avoiding it,” she agreed with a cheerful nod, reaching for her wine.
Diana continued evading talk of the future well into her main entree, fried crabs with almonds. It was delicious, once she figured out the best way to eat it. Seafood was not as common in take-out form, and she was enjoying the novelty.
Thank god for a Fire Elemental’s metabolism or she’d be hard pressed to squeeze into her leathers at this rate.
They were both eating the cinnamon and raisin bread pudding before Alec managed to return to the topic of life after service. “You do get to stop sometime, don’t you? I mean, you guys age out eventually?”
She took a deep breath and thought about what to say. “This isn’t going in some manuscript, is it?”
Alec frowned and leaned closer. “I may ask questions like I’m interviewing you, but you know I’m not, right? It’s not about that. Your kind. . .you’re the answer to a lot of questions I’ve had my whole life. But our friendship means more to me than getting those answers. If you want me to stop asking you things about the Elementals, I’ll stop, all right? Just say the word.”
Diana thought about it. He sounded so earnest, and she knew he was telling the truth. And he was already claiming friendship so easily, like it was a normal thing.
Maybe it is normal.
She leaned back in her chair. “We don’t age out exactly. While we serve, everything slows down. You pretty much stay the same until you decide to leave her service. Then another is called. You can spend years or centuries doing her work. It’s up to you.”
Alec’s eagerness was palpable. “How long have you been in service?”
“About a decade.”
“Oh. That would mean you’re roughly late twenties. Okay. I’m only two hundred years older. There’s nothing creepy or weird about that,” he said, tugging on his tie a little too hard.
Enjoying his discomfort, she added, “It’s more like two hundred and thirty years. How many generations is that? If I’m gen Y does that make you generation A? Or did they use something before letters? Roman numerals maybe? Are you generation XXII?”
Picking up the gauntlet, he took a big sip of wine before asking, “Why do most Elementals leave the service? It’s a great honor, after all. Is it simply too exhausting? Do you burn out?”
“Good fire pun,” she acknowledged with a snort. “Sometimes we do. Or Elementals leave when they want to settle down. They decide to start families or they meet someone. . .”
“Does the meeting someone not usually happen first?” he asked.
Diana pursed her lips and rested an elbow on the table. “Elemental lines are matrilineal. And the women who inherit are. . .strong,” she said euphemistically. “They don’t always feel the need to include a father in the picture. Making sure the line continues is important. It’s not always a direct line of inheritance, but the gift frequently circles back when it strays. And some lines just die out and others are born. Like the vamps and the witches.”
“But only one inherits a specific Element at a time? Why? Does the Mother worry you all wield too much power?” he asked, waving a hovering waiter away with an elegant gesture.
Startled at his perception but refusing to show it, she avoided his eyes. “There are probably various reasons that are equally valid. Too much firepower at one time in the same family would be a disaster waiting to happen.”
“But your families are still practitioners, right? They still have magic?”
Diana expelled her breath loudly, rubbing her temple. She was taking a lot on faith, but she did eventually answer. “Some do, not all, and not the same brand of magic as everyone else. More tied to nature. But most know and feel a connection to the Mother. The history gets passed down pretty succinctly in most cases.”
“In most cases. Did it get passed down your family?”
“No,” she said curtly and looked away.
Alec apparently saw the flashing warning lights ahead and veered away. He gestured to her now empty dish. “Are you through?”
“Yeah, let’s get out of here. I’m kind of talked out,” she said, fighting to maintain a tranquil expression.
Wordlessly, they exited the restaurant and walked out into the night air. The French Quarter was busy at all hours. Though she didn’t feel that mystical pull others felt here, she acknowledged that this place was unique. It had a little something extra. What did they call it? Lagniappe. No city she’d visited in Europe had this feel—light and dark blending with music and spice. It had a look and feel that was not European, and definitely not American.
“You do like this place, don’t you?” Alec asked, watching her face closely as they walked along the cobblestone streets.
“It has its charms,” she said noncommittally.
“Well, I’m glad you enjoyed dinner. I did, what I could finish anyway.” He sighed wistfully. “I miss food. It’s not fashionable to admit, but I do. I tried a stint in a cordon bleu academy in France fifty or so years ago. I thought the next best thing to getting to eat it would be to prepare it,” he said, falling into step beside her, his hands in his pockets.
“You do seem very enthusiastic about food, considering your primary source of nutrition,” she said wryly.
“You would be enthusiastic, too, if you couldn’t eat any solid foods for decades after you were turned,” Alec replied
in complete seriousness.
“Yeah, I heard that’s what happens. Most of your kind don’t bother to go back to solids from what I hear.”
“Oh, that’s only vampire image hype,” he said dismissively. “All of us eventually start eating again. We miss the sensory experience of chewing too much. You simply don’t get to enjoy full and robust meals anymore. Just little tastes.”
“Don’t you need blood soon?” she asked, trying to hide her discomfort at having to ask and failing utterly.
“I’ll make arrangements for that before we leave town,” he said, looking up at the wrought-iron balconies of the French Quarter, the ones that always ended up on postcards, before changing the topic to Mardi Gras.
As they strolled the cobblestone streets, Alec talked about the celebrations he’d seen in Rio and Quebec. Diana had been hunting a rogue werewolf in Rio during Mardi Gras once but hadn’t paid much attention to the festivities.
He peppered her with questions about her hunt as they walked, while she absorbed the festive and open atmosphere of the Quarter. Eventually, they wandered to the French Market, where Alec badgered and wheedled until she agreed to have beignets from the Cafe du Monde. He nibbled one as well while Diana inhaled the rest, washing it down with a cafe au lait.
“It’s a good thing I literally burn calories, you fat enabler,” Diana said half-grumpily when she’d finished.
Alec was still laughing when his phone rang. He moved away and began talking animatedly. Diana watched him from a distance. It was probably his go-to man, Daniel, on the other end of the line judging from the way he was interacting on his end.
She liked his laugh. She did not like the fact he had to drink blood.
From across the way, Alec gave her a thumbs up. He hung up the phone and came back to their table. “I got a better description of the insect pin. It’s not a bee. It’s a beetle with red and orange enamel. Daniel’s sending a picture of the sketch he had worked up.”
“He talked to more people at the club?”
“Yes. The staff as well. The bathroom attendant got a good look at the brooch when our mystery woman decided to use the facilities. Do you have a cell? I can send the picture to you.”
“I don’t use one. Just show it to me,” she said, reaching for his phone to examine the drawing.
“Who would choose a beetle?” Alec asked with a frown as she studied his screen. “Other than Haldane?”
“Who?” Diana asked absently.
“J.B.S. Haldane. A naturalist. He once said something to the effect that God, if he exists, has an inordinate fondness for beetles.”
Nerd. “Well, I doubt we’re looking for a beetle biologist. Hopefully it’s a family heirloom or something traceable.”
The brooch was an elaborate piece. Probably an antique from the looks of it. The pin certainly didn’t look modern. Diana turned away, lit a match, and blew it out. She sent the mental image of the brooch into the aether, knowing one of the others would eventually receive it when they next communed with their element.
“Did I just witness Elemental email?” Alec asked.
“I guess that’s one way to describe it. Any reason to stay in New Orleans?”
“No, unfortunately.”
“You really like those oysters, don’t you?”
“I do, but we might as well head back to Boston since you have other things to take care of. I’ll call for the plane.”
They headed back to the hotel, and Alec picked up his bag while Diana grabbed her pack. She headed outside and breathed in the night air, wondering how long it would take to track down the beetle pin woman.
A few minutes later, Alec came out of his room, and they were on the road to the airport.
An hour later, they were back in the air. Diana slouched in the comfortable leather chair, surreptitiously watching Alec. He was on the phone again while messing with his tablet. From the sound of things, he was wheeling and dealing, making what were probably multi-million dollar deals.
He’d already checked on Pedro and had seemed genuinely concerned for the man. Diana was even ready to admit that it wasn’t an act for her benefit. There was no pretense or deceit in his manner. He was just being himself.
And she’d spent a little too long staring at him. When Alec looked over at her, she quickly averted her gaze and contemplated the interior of the plane.
I wonder how Logan would react to being inside a plane. The Air Elemental had never flown in one. She’d never had to. Diana made a mental note to ask. She’d sent her a message to check out Katie’s mother Brenda, but Logan hadn’t heard anything about the woman’s whereabouts yet.
It was so frustrating not being able to track humans. The non-serial killer ones anyway. She closed her eyes for a minute only to be startled by the smell of fresh beignets. Alec had stopped working and was waving one under her nose. She breathed in a little powdered sugar and sneezed on his hand for his efforts.
“Here, have a fresh one,” he said, laughing and extending the bag to her.
Diana didn’t argue, taking a beignet from the bag and eating it. For the rest of the trip, she created little fireballs in her hands. She really needed to get one of those e-readers or a tablet if she was going to continue to be driven and flown around by Alec. Then she could read. Or play Angry Birds or Candy Crush.
“Why don’t you have a phone? Or a computer?” Alec asked, clearly honing his mind-reading skills.
“Don’t need it to get in touch with the others most of the time. And computer hardware doesn’t have a long shelf life around me. Water has the same problem. Air and Earth, especially Earth, do a lot better with electronics. There are laptops in every safe house. I try not to stay on them too long. Shortens their lifespan.”
“Which means unless we find you an extremely heat tolerant phone, we should stick together for the duration of this investigation. . .” he suggested with a smile.
“Nice try. I have some stuff I need to do solo in Boston. I can pick up a burner phone. We keep several in each stash and replenish them often,” Diana said, one of the corners of her mouth turning up.
“Yeah, that one was a long shot.” Alec murmured before adding in a louder voice, “of course. I’ll do my thing and get in touch with any news. If you need a hand with your Denon case, I would be happy to pitch in.”
“I think I’ve got it covered,” Diana said, rubbing her neck.
“I also give great massages,” Alec drawled, with more suggestion in his voice than he’d allowed around her before.
“I’m fine, thanks,” she told him flatly. “We’re not exactly in coach here, but I’m not used to sitting so much.”
She punctuated her statement by reclining her chair to its horizontal position and closing her eyes. Once he resumed typing she peeked at him from behind her lashes, interested in the way his hands moved over his tablet.
20
After they landed, Diana and Alec split up. She rode her bike out to the safe house and left messages on the aether for Logan about Katie’s mom and checked in with the other two.
After showering, she turned her attention back to the Denon Corporation. She still had to gather evidence of their systematic abuses during their mining operations. Digging into the box Gia had sent, she pulled out the Earth Elemental’s latest creation.
It looked like an innocuous fuse, something she could easily plant on the internal network’s power source. From there, the little gem would copy all of the information in a completely untraceable manner. It circumvented the need to access the server room itself, which was accessible only by key card. She had planned on stealing one, but now she wouldn’t have to.
Too bad. This meant that she would have to get back in there with her temp disguise. Maybe another secretary would have car trouble this time. It was kinder than the food poisoning.
She looked through the company’s internal directory for a secretary on the right floor. A few more of Gia’s tricks, and she found a home address and made sure she
was at the top of the temp roster. She went to sleep after going over the electrical plans for Denon headquarters.
The secretary Diana had targeted for car trouble was a particularly well paid one in the upper echelons of the Denon Corporation. She worked for one of the senior vice-presidents, Donald Price.
Diana hated having to target the little guy when doing these large corporation cases, but it was for the greater good.
At seven AM the following day, she waited patiently under an elm tree for Ms. Ellison to leave for work. In a few minutes, the older woman came out of her suburban home, coffee in hand. She started the car, and in another minute, her repeated attempts only resulted in a lot of smoke pouring from under the hood.
Across the street, Diana controlled the small fire she’d set in the engine block, making sure it looked alarming enough for Ms. Ellison to call in absent to work. Luckily, the woman did not appear to live with someone she could ask for help, nor did she have a second car. When she saw Ms. Ellison get on her cell phone and start making call after call, Diana slipped away and went to a gas station to change into her temp disguise.
She planted Gia’s bug around lunchtime when the building was more empty than usual. It took only moments, but if all went well, it would bring down a company for over forty years of flagrant malfeasance overseas.
Satisfied, Diana went back to Ms. Ellison’s desk and ate the tuna sandwich she’d packed for her lunch. She chewed with some dissatisfaction as she remembered eating out with Alec.
Damn. Her sad little sandwich paled in comparison to all of those gourmet meals. And she used to love tuna fish. She’d gotten spoiled, a side effect of befriending a man with an unlimited income and refined taste.
Just before quitting time, she checked on her listening stone in the air duct. Using a partner stone, she did the magical equivalent of downloading the information recorded. There was quite a lot of it. The higher-ups had been doing a serious amount of chatting lately. There was enough data to suggest that some of the recordings were made after hours. Maybe they had realized they were under investigation. She knew she hadn’t tipped them off. Perhaps some government agency had finally gotten off their butts and started their own investigation into the company’s practices.
The Elementals Collection Page 16
