The Elementals Collection

by L. B. Gilbert

  Gia sat up. Their surroundings were still fuzzy. They were belowground. That much she knew. “It’s a cave.”

  She didn’t mean to make it sound like a question, but her senses hadn’t caught up yet. There was the sound of running water, but it was faint. Just a trickle running down the walls.

  “It is, and it isn’t,” he answered cryptically. He helped her up. A brief impression of rough walls drifted by, then there was a sense of space, as if they were hanging over a great chasm—because they were.

  When he whispered a small rhyme, a light appeared, expanding between his hands. He tossed it up. It stayed above them, hovering like a tiny sun.

  Gia and Salvador stood on a precipice. Below them lay a twisted warren of walls.

  “A labyrinth,” she groaned aloud. If she weren’t so tired, she would have thrown up her hands.

  “I guess She wouldn’t be the all-powerful Mother if She made things easy for us, but at least there is a set of stairs.”

  He was right, of course. The long and twisting staircase began to the right. It snaked down into the darkness without an end in sight.

  “I guess we should get going,” she said, heading for the stairs.

  He reached out to stop her. “Not yet. Getting us here took a lot out of you. We should wait until you’ve regained your strength.”

  Suddenly, the reminder she wasn’t in top form irritated her.

  “I’m fine,” she said, tugging her sleeve out of his grip.

  Salvador shook his head with a superior expression. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to pull rank.”

  “A witch doesn’t outrank an Elemental.”

  “I know. I’m not speaking as a practitioner, but as your physician.” He put his hands on her shoulders. “Listen to your doctor. You need to rest. We either do it here or halfway down those stairs. Personally, I prefer up here.”

  Damn, she hated when he was right. But Gia had too much self-possession to let it show.

  “Fine,” she growled. Well, it showed a little.

  He offered his hand, and she took it. He guided her to the top of the stairs. They were more than wide enough for two people to sit on.

  “Who built these stairs?” he asked

  “The same entity that built the maze, I would guess.” Gia leaned against the wall. Salvador’s arm settled over her shoulder. He pushed her head the other way until she leaned against him.

  She shifted her head just enough to see his face.

  “You shouldn’t be afraid to touch me. I mean, we’ve practically had sex,” he pointed out.

  Gia didn’t know why that was so funny. “I’m afraid it was only good for you.”

  Salvador put a hand over his heart. “Ouch. Well, this may be incredibly inappropriate, but I hope to change that someday.”

  She opened her mouth, but he nudged her lightly and shook his head.

  “Later. After this next leg of our long, strange trip.”

  Gia was too tired to scowl, so she gestured to the maze. “This will be our last journey together.”

  She meant to discourage him, but he only smiled. “Really? Because I’m getting the impression this is just the beginning.”

  “More like the beginning of the end,” she said repressively. But Gia was still tired, so she moved ever so slightly, resting her head more solidly on his shoulder. She inhaled deeply, drawing in the scent of soap and sugar that was mingling with his scent.

  “Are you smelling me?” he asked.

  She could hear the smile in his voice.

  “Shut up,” she said, snickering softly. Then she closed her eyes for a while.

  Salvador only got to savor holding Gia for a brief time. The Earth Elemental’s batteries recharged quickly. After less than an hour of rest, she dragged him down the stairs to the mouth of the labyrinth.

  The walls were made of stone, a polished volcanic rock that made the most of what light there was in the place. It was too massive to call it a cave. He and Gia had entered a subterranean world, one so large that starving to death before they found their way out would be a real possibility if he were with anyone else.

  “I should have taken Nana up on her offer of a doggy bag,” he said, losing track of their location after a few too many sudden turns. “Of course, if that sweet roll was my last meal, it was an excellent one… I don’t suppose you can grow one of those magic bushes with a few plums or maybe a steak?”

  Gia muttered something under her breath.

  “I’m sorry, what was that?”

  She pivoted, then blew a stray hair out of her eyes. “I said my powers don’t work down here. Neither do yours. They disappeared when we entered the labyrinth proper.”

  He could have sworn he wasn’t moving, but Salvador managed to trip over his own feet anyway.

  “Oh… So we are going to starve to death.” He sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Cool.”

  Gia reached out, then squeezed his arm. “Don’t worry. The dehydration will kill us long before starvation becomes an issue.”

  Yeah, he’d walked into that one. “You know, when my family issued its many warnings about your kind, they never mentioned how annoyingly snarky you were.”

  Gia batted her long lashes. “Really? Because that’s the first thing they should have told you.” She nudged him hard enough to make him trip again. “It’s just a puzzle, and I’ve always been good at those. Now, c’mon.”

  She led the way, rounding yet another ninety-degree turn. A second later, she shifted and held up a finger. “I, um, I don’t suppose you’d consider closing your eyes for the next minute and a half?”

  Her hesitancy was unnatural. Gia didn’t do uncertain.

  “Is there some sort of monster you can’t look in the eyes around that corner?” he asked.

  When her nose twitched, his arms fell to his sides.

  “Oh God, there is.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Is it Medusa? It’s Medusa, isn’t it?”

  “Not quite.”

  Salvador took a deep breath before marching around the corner.

  “It’s a pile of old bones,” he said, almost relieved. Sure, someone had died there, but at least it wasn’t a mythical creature that turned people to stone or flesh-eating monsters. “Granted, it’s not a good sign for us survival-wise, but it could be worse.”

  “All right, then. Why don’t we move on?” she asked, hustling him past the bones. They had almost cleared the next corner when he stopped her.

  “Wait, why did you think that would bother me?” Curses could take some twisted forms. As a healer, he was used to some grisly sights. Skeletal remains didn’t qualify.

  Gia avoided his eyes. “I just didn’t want you to get discouraged about succeeding in the maze.”

  Briefly, he closed his eyes. “Those are his bones, aren’t they?”

  “I’m afraid so.” He knew Gia felt bad when she wrapped her arm around him. She gestured to the remains with her free hand. “Meet your great-uncle Ciro.”

  Salvador walked to the pile, staring at them as if they would suddenly rise and start spilling their secrets. “I feel like I should say something. My grandmother talked about him as if he was supposed to be the second coming—our family’s biggest lost opportunity.”

  Gia’s shoulders drew up. “Do you pray?” she asked.

  “Not since I was twelve,” he admitted, wondering where he should start.

  Kneeling, he crouched by the bones. He reached out to touch the remains of what must have been a shirt.

  “Hey, look at this,” he said, seeing a brown puffball mushroom near the shoulder. “I guess some things do grow here after all.”

  Gia bent to inspect it closer. “Hey. Don’t touch that.”

  But it was too late. He’d already plucked it from the ground.

  As soon as he lifted it, the mushroom shot out a spray of spores, covering them both. Coughing, he dropped it to the ground, a wave of dizziness overwhelming him.

  Somehow, he managed to catch Gi
a before she hit the ground, but that didn’t help her much because he lost consciousness right after.

  30

  “Mi amor, that dish isn’t going to finish itself.”

  Gia startled, wondering how long she had been sitting at the kitchen table.

  The morning light filtered through the yellow curtains she had chosen because they made the room warm and cozy.

  Marco, her mate, stood over the frying pan. “You’re the one who made the wager. Are you crying uncle already?”

  “Uncle?” She scowled, wondering why the hell that word bothered her so much.

  Marco’s handsome face creased. “What’s wrong?” he asked, setting the frying pan on the brick he’d carved runes on. It was the last one he’d baked in the kiln in the backyard. The rest were in the walls of this house, the home he’d built for them.

  “You were always doing things like that,” she whispered, holding her temple. “Sentimental touches that made everything perfect.”

  Her head didn’t hurt, but it felt as if she’d just woken up from a long sleep.

  “Gia, are you okay?” Marco asked. “I’ve never seen you turn down a sopapilla.”

  That was what was in the frying pan. Gia reached out, then took a piece of the sweet fry bread. It was still warm, the scent making her stomach growl. “I would never turn one of these down. They’re your specialty.”

  Pleased, Marco sprinkled powdered sugar on top before passing her the honey pot for good measure.

  “I’m fine. I think,” she said, still feeling oddly disconnected. “I just have the nagging feeling I’m forgetting something.”

  Marco turned the chair around, sitting in it backward so he could rest his arms over the backrest. His face was lit with that warm, loving expression she knew so well. The man liked to watch her eat, but she didn’t mind or feel self-conscious the way she did with others. Marco wasn’t just her mate. He was her oldest friend.

  She polished off the sopapilla while he filled the silence with stories about his work. He was in the middle of an anecdote about his friend and the trip they were planning when she suddenly remembered something.

  Gia grabbed his hand. “Marco, you can’t go to Ecuador with Josue. It’s not safe to go there right now—”

  Marco frowned. “Mi amor, I already went to Ecuador. Josue and I finished the relief operation early and returned last month, don’t you remember?”

  “What?” She shook her head, her heart working overtime.

  Gia pressed her hands to her head. It felt as if her head were stuffed full of cotton wool, but she wasn’t wrong about this. She had to stop him from going on this trip. “No, no, we had this exact meal and we discussed your upcoming trip. I should have told you not to go because the area is unstable—”

  “Gia, love, we make sopapillas every Sunday when we are both home. And we did have this conversation. I also told you everything would be fine, and it was.” He put a hand on her forehead. “Are you feeling all right? I mean, I know you can’t fall sick, but you mentioned your last assignment was difficult. Perhaps you’re feeling some aftereffects?”

  “I said it was bad?” she asked, shock and relief making her fingertips tingle. Or was that his touch?

  It had been so long. Except it hadn’t.

  Her head spun. Gia tried to get to her feet, but Marco urged her back down, hovering over her attentively before making her a cup of her favorite tea in a mug he’d fired and glazed himself.

  I still have that mug. Her vision swam in and out as memories overlapped and tangled. She gazed up into Marco’s worried face. A tear slipped down her cheek, and she released a shaky breath.

  “Okay, now I know something is wrong,” he said, the line between his brows deepening. “Should I call Serin?”

  “Can you please sit?” she asked, patting the table in front of his chair. When he continued to make a face, she took his hand and pulled him down.

  “Mi—”

  Gia covered his mouth with her hand.

  “I’m choosing to see this as a gift instead of the less-than-kind trap the Mother has set for the unwary.” His beautiful face wavered slightly as tears filled her eyes. “For so long, all I wanted was the chance to look into your eyes again and tell you about everything.”

  She gripped his hands tightly. “And even though you’re not truly here, I want to say how much I love you. Part of me will always love you.” Gia blinked back the tears, determined not to miss a second with him. “You were the best thing about my day—even after you weren’t there anymore—and I will be grateful I knew you and you loved me until the day I die…which is hopefully not today.”

  Nodding, she stared at the ceiling. “This can be over now. I passed.”

  When Gia looked back down after wiping her tears away, Marco was gone. Salvador sat in his place, reading a book. “Or not…”

  He looked up, his smile warming the entire room, the features of which had dramatically altered. It wasn’t her and Marcos’ kitchen, but another one in some other home. This was a glimpse of the future, a life that could be hers if she were willing to set aside her prejudices and misgivings long enough to seize it.

  Sal set aside his book, reaching for her hand, but she shook her head.

  “I understand what you’re trying to tell me,” she said emphatically. “Seriously, Mother, we don’t have to do this.”

  “So, should I just go?” Salvador asked, a corner of his lip quirking. He gestured to the door. Even in her delusion, he was both self-effacing and a little sarcastic.

  “Yes, Salvador the hallucination, you can go. I’ll see the real one in a minute.”

  She stood, then closed her eyes. Thankfully, when she opened them, she was back in the labyrinth. Salvador was crumpled on the floor next to the bones.

  “Okay then,” she said, rubbing her face. “I don’t suppose you’re going to wake yourself up…”

  He stayed still next to the remains of his great-uncle.

  “Yes, that’s what I thought,” she muttered, leaning over him. “Well, I hope your delusion is not as interesting as mine was, for your sake.”

  “Darling.” Someone handed him a glass of champagne.

  Blinking, Salvador shook his head. He was sitting at the head of a long, and unfortunately familiar, table.

  “No,” he rasped. He was not in the formal dining room of Mammon’s castle… and that was not Snagat serving Fulgencio, Salvador’s father. His mother, no longer pregnant, sat next to him, engrossed in conversation with his cousin. Behind her, another demon servant shuffled past with a tray laden with hors d’oeuvres.

  “Did you not hear me?” The long, blood-red fingernails were the tipoff.

  “Analia?” he asked, his mouth twisting.

  His cousin’s dark eyes flashed. “What is wrong with you? Snagat asked if you wanted another drink.”

  “Why?” he asked blankly. His head swam, his eyes watering. Damn, what was wrong with him?

  “Because…” Analia’s gaze was dagger sharp. “It’s our anniversary, and I can’t drink with your parents watching me.”

  When he scanned her, his gaze caught on her burgeoning stomach.

  Bile rose in his throat. “Okay, that is very twisted.”

  In whatever gruesome reality he’d landed in, his mother was no longer pregnant, but his cousin was expecting… and, apparently, it was supposed to be his.

  “I did not marry my cousin.” Salvador felt every inch of his skin begin to crawl. True, she was his second cousin, but he was still close to vomiting. It did not get better when the servants wheeled in the stuffed pig on a trolley. At least it looked like a pig…with disturbingly human-like appendages.

  “Honestly, Sally, you are such a beast until you drink,” Analia spat, using the version of his name that he despised the most. “Please finish that drink now, then have another before our mothers finish it all. You know how long it takes these damn demons to get up and down the stairs to the kitchen.”

  Salvador pus
hed away from the table. “And that’s my cue to get some air,” he ground out. Nodding tersely, he hurried out the door.

  The castle was laid out exactly as he remembered. Rushing through the corridors, he turned down the hallway with the collection of skulls mounted on the wall before bursting free of the castle ramparts. The night was cold, and the air was heavy with particulates that made breathing more work, but he didn’t care.

  Somehow, he had ended up in hell again—this time, without Gia. How was he going to get out of here without her?

  The dragons! Were the dragons still here?

  Suddenly, his father clapped him on the back just as Salvador was staving off a hyperventilation fit. He didn’t quite catch his words.

  “I’m sorry, what did you say?” Salvador asked.

  “I said with the baby on the way, it really makes you think about the future. I mean, someday, all of this will be yours…”

  His father waved at the distant vista of darkened hills and distant fires.

  Okay, that did it. Salvador whirled around and took his father’s hands, shaking them briefly. “Would you excuse me for a moment?”

  “What—”

  Salvador didn’t wait for the rest of Fulgencio’s response. He ran inside, tearing through the castle as he shouted Gia’s name.

  31

  Gia was actually sweating. She may have strained a tendon, but she had finally managed to drag Salvador’s tall and toned form down three turns of the labyrinth—away from Ciro and his spores.

  Of all the times to not have super-strength or my normal endurance.

  “You know, Sal, those muscles look very nice, but they make you damn heavy,” Gia told the prone body as she stretched her aching back. “Right now, I’m wishing you weren’t quite so…fit.”

  He continued to be dead weight, unconscious and handsome. “It would be far more helpful if you resembled your third cousin twice-removed Rodolfo—who was cadaverously thin. Or course, that might have had something to do with the fact he was constantly brewing potions to enhance his powers and a particularly potent one burned most of his stomach lining off.”