Her voice escaped a slack-jawed bronze angel with a note of apprehension. “I did, but Shield Terrance has dealt with the incursion.”
“Great. Can you order up a putti crew?”
Anima gasped.
“What? Is everything all right?” Ignis asked.
“Uh, yes. Of course, Shield Ignis, I just accessed a nearby traffic camera.”
Ignis frowned at the still smoking ashes. “I may have lost my temper.” He smiled. “But I’m feeling much better now.”
“I’m glad?”
Ignis laughed. “If there’s nothing else, I’m headed back to my apartment for a quick rest. I broke my hilt and had to use a lot of essence. I need to draw some from my nest.”
“I sense your nest is full and still in your apartment.”
“Of course, it is. Why wouldn’t it be?” Ignis asked.
“Brownies assaulted headquarters. Shield Terrance slew most of them, but they got away with Vitae and Quayla’s nests.”
Cold flashed across Ignis’s skin. “They stole our nests right out of headquarters? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You seem in need of a break. Shield Terrance arrived here with haste, but not quite soon enough to stop them. He is addressing the problem.”
“How did they get in?”
“Caelum’s keycard. At first, I thought they’d been hired to clean once more, but I could not reach Caelum to ask after his death.”
Ignis cranked the Camaro to life with a roar. “Have you heard from him since?”
“No, Shield Ignis, and I cannot sense him, Vitae or Quayla.”
Ignis turned on his flashing dash light and siren, pulling into traffic with all the horses available. “They’re all missing?”
“Shield Quayla is out of reach, but not missing.”
“What does that mean?”
“She entered Faery with a mortal shield intent to rescue the woman who works at her florist shop from abduction.”
Ignis cursed and took a hard turn, back wheels sliding on the street. “I’m on my way to Caelum’s. Any idea where I can search to find Vitae?”
“Should you not check on your nest first?”
“You said it was where it’s supposed to be, besides, nests can be rebuilt. I want to make sure Caelum is safe. Where is Terrance?”
“He’s just left headquarters to verify his nest,” Anima said. “It is no longer in my sight.”
Ignis cursed harder, whipping around traffic. After too long, he pulled into the parking garage for Caelum’s apartment. Rather than wait for the elevator, he took the stairs at a run. He didn’t bother trying to catch his voice to call out for Caelum, instead wrapped his hand around Caelum’s locking mechanism.
Small flames licked up the door from where the metal casing melted, but Ignis refused the flames any further growth. He shouldered the door open to find Caelum’s apartment undisturbed.
“Caelum? Anima?”
A quick search turned up no Caelum and no nest. Unease edged into Ignis’s awareness.
The whole shield had tried everything to find the culprit responsible and reclaim their eggs. They’d called in every marker and shaken down if not every tree, at least several forest’s worth. He’d lost count of the number of Seelie and Unseelie he’d handed over to Vitae for interrogation, and they still had no answers.
Vitae...could he have...no, Anima said his nest was taken too.
On the heels of that assault, their nest had been stolen.
“The faeries aren’t acting to spec anymore either. We’re not seeing something.”
Faeries aren’t the only things not acting right. Where is Vitae? Quayla is out of convalescence. He should be in the tower.
Ignis resisted the urge to transmogrify and fly across the city to his nest. He took the Camaro, and while the trip wasn’t as fast as the crow flies, it wasn’t much slower either.
Firetrucks blocked off the block around his apartment building. He threw his inspector plaque in the Camaro window and sprinted over to the man-in-charge.
“Inspector? What are you doing here?”
“I live just there. What’s your status?”
“Some sort of boiler explosion. We shut off the gas and evacuated the building. Guys are just going in now.”
“How’d you get the call?” Ignis asked.
“Strangest thing. They called 911, but the operator wasn’t able to trace the call at all, and yet he identified himself as C. Lee Knight. When the dispatcher thanked him, he told her he had the heart of a fire inspector.”
Ignis’s flames damped.
“Inspector? Anything wrong?”
“N-nothing’s wrong. Just suddenly thought I’d left my keys in the car. Let me check real quick.”
“No problems. I get to a fire and everything but fighting it goes right out of my head.”
Ignis inclined his head and jogged back to the Camaro. It took a lot of will to keep the jog from becoming a run. He reached out to his seeds. Taint overwhelmed the nearest spots of his essence.
“Anima? Can you still sense my nest?”
“No, Shield Ignis. I sensed an incursion in the basement of your building, taint flooded your nest and now nothing.”
Ignis cursed. “Apologies, Anima. Have you gotten in touch with the others?”
“Terrance’s nest has been stolen and Quayla called Summuseraphi for a rewrite of her mortals. Both are headed to headquarters.”
“What about Vitae?”
“No contact yet.”
Ignis growled. He weighed waiting to inspect his apartment versus joining the others at headquarters. Like it or not, the loss of his nest seemed a certainty. He returned to the man-in-charge.
“What’s the word?”
“More strangeness, inspector. The boiler which blew wasn’t connected to any gas lines, but it was connected to your apartment.”
Ignis feigned shock. “What? How?”
“They haven’t come back out with the film.”
Ignis cursed inwardly. He’d only stayed to gather another hilt. “Any chance I can go inside and see for myself?”
“Sorry, no can-do inspector. We’re checking the boiler for explosive residue and the local authorities are inbound. They’ll probably want to talk to you.”
“Makes sense. I’ll wait by my car.”
The man-in-charge seemed about to object when one of the firefighters that had gone in rushed up to him. “Sir, we just found another explosive on the second boiler.”
Not going to get a better chance than this. So much for Ignis Kite, fire inspector.
18: Sinking in Quicksand
Caelum
Caelum’s body struggled to reform. He could feel the new body, feel the essence in his nest, but the tornado that should’ve blown him back together remained only a light breeze.
Panic filled his soul-self.
Is this my egg? Is it too far away? Must be. I’m going to die for real.
He threw all his will into reforming. If he was going to face True Death, it wouldn’t be with callous humor and a paltry effort. He would rage against anything that tried to separate him from the Undying Light.
His body assembled with agonizing slowness.
Silence struck him first, broken only by a faint hiss of air. The lack of scent struck next. His nose had always been more sensitive than the others, the air whispering things to him that the others couldn’t hear.
Bright light blinded him, but not the Light of Vilicangelus or any other divine phoenix. Ridges dug into his feet.
He looked down. Golden hair fell across his face. He pushed it aside and shuffled backward to see beyond firm breasts and tone thighs.
His head knocked against glass with a dull ring.
Eyes flashed around at a double layered bell jar encasing him like he was an enchanted rose. A mechanical arm of some sort stretched from atop his cylinder into a ceiling covered by a wide circle of runes and sigils. Below him, stair-stepped stone depressions descended like a Min
ecraft funnel to a small hole with some kind of valve that let in his essence in tiny amounts.
“Well, well, Caelum,” Dunham’s deep voice carried amusement and delight. “You’re going to need a new security badge photo.”
Caelum held his temper. Wild as the wind might be, too many things were wrong to rush. He gave his body another passing glance. His last body had been only a little taller and slightly less feminine. Caelum had worn more sultry bodies—particularly the voluptuous Asian beauty or the flame-tressed, thick, but pale-bodied Caucasian of Celtic stock that Shelby had loved.
He looked up through the double glass into Dunham’s face. “Not bad, Caelum, but you needn’t worry—men aren’t that picky.”
Roaring wind coursed through Caelum’s veins, thundering in his ears. The insults didn’t trouble him. All shields wore angelic beauty. Dunham’s betrayal lit temper like lightning the skies. He took a calming breath which took too long because of the thin air in the chamber.
Dunham knocked on the glass. “Vacuum chamber. Nobody’s used these stones in a very long time. I couldn’t take the chance any of you would escape if the spell translations weren’t right.”
Caelum whirled, searching for the others. It hit Caelum like a winter zephyr. The light reflecting off the glass walls of his cage made it harder to see, but he recognized the standing stone at his back and the stone disk beneath his feet.
He crouched, running fingers along the glass parting him from glowing runes. A toe of stone jutted out of the base stone under his bell jar.
I’m on one of shoes.
The rest of Caelum’s surroundings were foreign, but the walls, floors and ceilings matched those in Dunham’s office. A pool table crowded one wall of a living area—unplayable shoved up against a wall.
These are the upper floors. Dunham’s private chambers.
“I was concerned that your knowledge of history would clue you in to their purpose too soon, but they didn’t.”
“What do you want Dunham?” Caelum’s voice pitched into the alto ranges.
At least it isn’t any higher. Faeries don’t respect orders being shouted by a helium-voiced woman.
Dunham bent, withdrawing a large ovum of yellow topaz and celestial silver. He held it up for Caelum to examine, his brows flicked up and down. When Caelum remained silent, Dunham blew a soft wind that sent gooseflesh running up and down Caelum’s new body.
“These eggs are truly magnificent. Normally, I’d display such a treasure, but these might be too much for a thief to resist.”
“Takes one to know one,” Caelum seethed under his breath.
“What? I didn’t hear you.”
“Nothing.”
A titan’s hand squeezed Caelum. Cracking bones sent pain up and down Caelum’s body, but his squeezed lungs couldn’t draw in enough breath to scream.
“Did you know, that beyond their life saving qualities, these eggs serve other purposes with the right spells?” Dunham bent, pushing the egg into the stone’s toe socket.
The first time Caelum had examined the standing stones and their bases, the large empty socket hadn’t seemed very large—certainly not large enough to fit Caelum’s egg. The stone opened wide like a toddler trying to stuff too big a bite into their mouth. As the stone closed around Caelum’s egg, it felt as if a strait jacket closed around his entire body.
“You’ve got our eggs, no wonder we couldn’t find them among the faerie,” Caelum squeaked. He put more force behind his voice. “How did you stage the attack to make it look like they assaulted us?”
“Easy, I hired them to assault you.”
“How do you even know about them, much less contact them?” Caelum asked. “Most Fae Kissed have an actual soul to exchange for power.”
“You might be surprised.”
“What do you want?”
“Oh, well, considering our long working relationship, I should tell you—nothing. Do I look like some cartoon villain to you? Have you no respect for me at all?”
“Less than I had this morning.”
“I understand. A lot of your paradigms have changed in a short period. It will take time for you to adjust.” Dunham smiled, stepping to the next stone base. He bent to work on something Dunham’s body obstructed.
The cage around the next stone looked nothing like Caelum’s own. Fine lines of string or glass ran top bottom just inside a thin plastic cylinder. Nothing about the cage looked particularly sturdy.
After a few moments, Dunham looked up. “For your Vitae. I know, it doesn’t look that tough—particularly to hold a phoenix that can become liquid, but don’t forget the magic holding you in—besides, these filaments are assembled from graphene nanotube and transport some of the nastiest poisons and weaponized pathogens I could buy.”
Caelum squeezed his essence, using it to magnify the strings. None of them looked so much as damp, but up close they were a series of oblong and spherical shapes.
“The toxins travel through via capillary action. They stay inside as long as the chains remained aligned, but,” Dunham pushed on the thin plastic until it bent one of the strings.
Liquid oozed from all but invisible joints in the chain.
“Now, if I were you, I’d turn your attention to that small pressure bottle on the side there. I’ve already used a lot of your essence, and we wouldn’t want your nest to be lacking the next time you die.”
“I’m in a cage.”
“For now, but while I won’t fill you in on the plan, I can tell you that you and your shield brethren will be in a real danger.” Dunham stood and met Caelum’s eye with a gaze as cold as the ocean floor. “If any of you end up in your eggs, I’ll shatter them.”
Dread pressed down on Caelum. His eyes flicked down to find Dunham’s toe pressing down on the jeweled egg.
“You’re well aware of my zero-tolerance policy. True Death for failure seems zero tolerance to me.” Dunham returned to the base of Vitae’s future cage. “Best get started.”
Caelum stared.
He’d liked, even admired Dunham. The mortal was smart, careful, and thorough. Caelum’s gaze shot to the trap Dunham prepared for Vitae and then his own.
Too thorough. Vacuum for me. Fast-acting toxins for a life phoenix.
Caelum turned his back on Dunham. The nearest cage on the other side was a dark material Caelum didn’t recognize with a top to bottom slider in place blocking who knew what. Without any clue as to its particulars, he tried to glimpse any changes made to the center stone.
The pentagonal stone hadn’t been walled off, but glowing lines stretched out in an attempt to form a pentagram. Light seemed brightest from the two lines reaching out from where the base of Vitae’s standing stone fit against the central stone.
Caelum couldn’t bend enough to see the lines connecting to his own stone, but two other paired lines glowed brighter and brighter as they neared a gleaming intersection just under the back of the standing stones. Just above the intersection point, runes ascended the standing stone’s back face. One set of runes glowed brighter than the others whereas one line above a dark intersection failed to glow at all.
He’s using our essence to power some kind of summoning circle.
Caelum’s cage wasn’t comfortable, but Vitae wouldn’t be in any immediate danger of poisoning himself once caught. The central stone stretched twice the diameter of the smaller stones.
Whatever he intends to summon is going to be huge if the stone’s size is any judge, but the stone looks off, like it was cast in a mold made from pieces that didn’t quite fit.
“Caelum, your work ethic is usually much better.”
“You said you used my essence? For what?”
Dunham chuckled, crossing to a line of large packing crates. “Wild parties, various debaucheries, perhaps even some dead kittens.”
“You’re a real asshole,” Caelum said.
“Just because I shared my good booze with you doesn’t make us girlfriends,” Dunham’s voice hardened.
“You phoenixes only have that ‘sister’ of yours to blame.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Think about it while you gather essence for your next death.”
“Something is wrong with one of your stones,” Caelum said. “Bulb’s burned out or something.”
Dunham stopped what he was doing and closed to the other side of Caelum’s cage. He dropped his voice enough it barely made it through the glass. “Stop fishing, Caelum. Fill that bottle. Now.”
Bradley
Bradley wheeled another John Doe into the loading entrance of an old, condemned hotel. He leaned heavily against the gurney, using it to keep his tired legs under him. Goblins and something his master called grendlings—working in an obviously uneasy truce—lifted the gurney and headed for a rickety service elevator.
A gruff, slobbering grendling that reminded Bradley of the love child of Veruca Salt and Violet Beauregard shoved an empty gurney into his hands. “Move faster, wafer.”
Wafer?
He froze, his mind circling the word in search of meaning. His stomach snarled.
God I’m hungry. When was the last time I ate?
Pain creased his face.
He looked down to find the ugly grendling perched on a box poised to strike him again. Excitement bubbled up inside Bradley. The creature in front of him was a faerie, an honest to god fantasy creature standing in Atlanta.
The grendling hit Bradley again. “Move!”
Bradley pushed the gurney toward the waiting ambulance. One hand reached up to his face, coming back covered in blood. Bradley stared at it, his tired mind trying to encompass the problem.
I’m bleeding. He hit me, broke the skin. I should bandage this. I have to stop the bleeding and add antibiotics to ensure there’s no infection. God only...knows where...that...uh, faerie came from?
Bradley’s pulse raced, grin widening to increase the pain in his cheek. He was surrounded by faeries.
“Wafer!”
Bradley whirled to look up into his sultry Master.
He’s a she, shouldn’t it be Mistress?
He bowed to one knee. It pleased her...him, and when he was pleased, pleasure seemed to wash through Bradley.
Ruled by Tainted Blood Page 21
