Eternal Fires
“In Chicago. They’re working out the details of the new vampire alliance. How’d you know?”
“Claris.” He turned away and started back toward the car.
Ari gave him a quick look. Ryan didn’t usually worry about family barbeques when they were on a case. “Will she be there tonight?” she asked, catching up with him.
“Who? Oh, Claris?” He acted just a little too casual. “I think Mom said something about inviting her.”
Uh-huh. So that was why he wanted to go. She’d noticed her best friend’s name coming up in his conversation more frequently over the past few weeks. She frowned and puckered her lips. Ryan had spent a lot of time keeping Claris’s spirits up since her fiancé, Brando, was killed nine months ago. Had Ryan fallen for her? They’d always been fond of each other, but Claris didn’t seem ready to move on. Ari doubted if her friend was even aware of his feelings.
But Ari didn’t bring up any of that. “I’d love to go. I wasn’t looking forward to the evening alone.” She used to enjoy her solitude before Andreas. Since they’d married last December and especially since the pregnancy, they’d been almost inseparable, wanting to share every moment they could. These few months had been the most peaceful time they’d had in the last three years, free of harassment by the O-Seven elders. Ari and Andreas had taken full advantage of the interlude, knowing it wasn’t likely to last.
“Great. Mom will love to see you. Now, let’s get busy and find our crime scene.”
They searched the adjacent highways and gravel roads for several hours, explored an abandoned gas station and two rest stops along the nearby interstate, and finally tromped through an overgrown, country cemetery. Nothing.
Then Ryan’s radio came to life. A semi driver two counties over had responded to media reports on the victim’s description. He’d driven by a petite woman on US 20 early that morning, changing a tire on a white compact.
“Trucker said she was almost finished, so he waved but didn’t bother to stop. Now he wishes he had. He gave us the approximate mile marker.”
They called the trucker back while they were en route to the location, and he described the area in detail. Since he frequented the highway, he was able to give them several landmarks and even offered to join them and point it out if they couldn’t find it on their own. But his directions turned out to be excellent, and they spotted an area of torn-up grass and scuffed earth.
Ryan parked by the side of the road, and Ari stepped out of the cruiser. A ripple of dread shot across her neck, and she stiffened, scanning the nearby trees, fence line brush, and farm fields. It took hostile magic to trigger her alarms to this extent.
Nothing moved in the stifling heat except a few biting gnats. She shook her head at Ryan and rubbed her neck to ease the tension. With a last look around, she joined him near the obvious site of disturbance.
“She put up a fight,” Ryan said. “Look at these clods of dirt gouged out and kicked around. And here’s a definite blood spill.” He pulled out his police radio to arrange for the crime scene techs.
Ari glanced up as a car sped past. Ryan had set out traffic cones to move cars to the next lane, but that didn’t always keep inattentive drivers from plunging through barricades. “Why didn’t anyone see it happen? This is a busy highway, even at night.”
“Must have been a short fight.”
Waiting for a break in traffic, Ari stepped onto the highway and walked a dozen feet away. “I see her tire tracks on the shoulder but nothing behind it from another vehicle. How’d her attacker get here? On foot? That might explain what happened to her car. He took it to move the body, then abandoned it somewhere.”
She looked up and down the highway. “But where’d he come from? A nearby house? Did an accomplice drop him off? Let’s see if we can find another set of car tracks or footprints. I’ll take this direction, if you want to check the other.”
She searched the ground until she was around the first bend, crossed the road, and walked back to meet Ryan coming from the opposite direction.
He shook his head. “Nothing.”
“Nope, me neither. Maybe he cut through the fields from a side road.”
“We can check them, and I’ll have officers canvass all the neighbors.”
A dark shadow cut off the overhead sun. Ryan instinctively ducked. Ari’s magic flared. She grabbed her pistol.
“What the hell is that?” Ryan stared at the huge black bird that landed on a fence two fields away. He glanced at her Walther. “You aren’t going to shoot it, are you? Surely even a bird that size wouldn’t attack us.”
Goose bumps danced up and down her arms. “A normal bird wouldn’t. But that thing… I’m not so sure.” Keeping an eye on the crow, she snatched her phone one-handed and thumbed the medical examiner. “Doc, do you still have the body? Take another look and tell me if those injuries could have been caused by an enormous crow, say forty-five pounds, with a wingspan of ten to twelve feet.”
“A crow? They don’t grow that large,” Onway said.
“I’m looking at him, Doc.”
“Oh. Well, I suppose if it’s that big, it could, but crows aren’t usually aggressive toward people. And keep in mind those surface injuries didn’t kill her. Your lab crew just arrived to get the body. Once they’ve had a look, maybe they’ll give you a specific cause of death.
“A super crow,” he muttered, sounding exasperated. “What’s next?”
Exactly. Ari disconnected. During her conversation with the doctor, the bird hadn’t moved from its position on the fence. It was at least as large as a condor, and the murky haze around it wasn’t put there by nature. The creature cocked its head and stared at her. Witch fire tingled in her fingertips, but she calmed the magic and tightened her grip on her handgun.
Unless forced by circumstances, she wouldn’t use magical fire out in the open like this, where she might burn the farmer’s fields. And where motorists might observe her. Magic still caused a big stir—and a lot of fear—among humans.
“It’s not coming after us.” Ryan turned to look at her. “What did you mean by ‘a normal bird wouldn’t?’”
“It isn’t a coincidence that a flock of crows is called a murder of crows,” she said darkly. “They have a bad reputation. Their minds can be bent to evil by someone with the ability to call and control them—a werewolf, a witch or wizard, even a vampire. There are stories of powerful magic users who can morph into the creature’s form. Just look at it, Ryan. You can’t see the dark aura, but how do you explain that size?”
“Are you telling me that bird might be someone else? Someone supernatural?” Ryan’s hand moved to hover over his own pistol.
“Let’s find out.” Ari took off running, vaulted the fence, and headed straight for the crow. The creature stretched its head high before spreading its wings to their full span and lifting into the air. It released a loud caw and streaked away at astonishing speed. Ari came to a halt in the middle of the field. By the time Ryan caught up, she’d already put her gun away.
“Guess it wasn’t in the mood for a fight.” She shaded her eyes and watched the black object disappear into the horizon.
“How can a bird move that fast?”
Ordinary birds couldn’t. Ari didn’t bother to answer him. She started toward the fence line where the creature had perched.
“Now what?”
“The residual magic might tell me what it is or who’s controlling it.”
Ryan didn’t comment, but she heard the cornstalks swish against his denim jeans as he followed her. He acted skeptical, which kind of surprised her after all the things he’d seen in the last three years. But Ryan had never been completely comfortable with the Otherworld. He’d rather believe the bird was genetically altered by some mad scientist than a magical manifestation.
She stopped at the wooden fence and ran her hands over the rails until she found a spot that tingled…and filled her with an unreasonable sense of dread. She lifted her hands and the oppress
ive feeling receded. Bad mojo.
“Hey, look.” Ryan pointed toward a black feather sticking out of the grass. He pulled a set of crime scene gloves from his pocket and handed them to Ari. “I suppose you need to handle it first.”
“You know me.” She snapped the gloves in place and picked up the glossy object. Scorching heat, devouring flames. “Yikes!” She dropped it from sheer reflex, the heat vanished, and her fingers had no sign of injury. An illusion. A strong one.
“What happened?” Ryan demanded, staring at the shiny quill as if it might come to life. “You act like it bit you.”
She eyed the feather, not eager to repeat the experience. “Try touching it.”
His brows shot up.
“Carefully,” she added. “See if you get the same vivid sensation of heat.”
“Why am I always the guinea pig?” But he pulled out a second pair of gloves, crouched, and extended a tentative finger. “Nope. I feel nothing.” He picked it up. “What’s that tell you?”
“It has a defensive shield that reacts to magic.”
“So you were right. It wasn’t a real crow.”
She gave a terse nod. “I couldn’t get past its shields to identify the magic user. Maybe the lab can do better.” She took off her gloves and stuffed them in a pocket. Ryan could carry the damned thing.
They headed back to the car. Ari kept a vigilant eye on the sky and trees around them, extending her senses to avoid a surprise attack. Although the nymph hadn’t died from the visible injuries of a crow’s attack, Ari believed they’d just seen the killer—or some form of the killer—and the cause of the nymph’s death was dark magic.
CHAPTER TWO
Laughter and the enticing aroma of barbeque sauce met them as Ari and Ryan entered the gate to the Fosters’ backyard. His mother handed off her grilling utensils to one of Ryan’s cousins and hurried to greet them with hugs and kisses on the cheek.
“You’re late,” she scolded. “You both work too hard, too many hours. But you’re here now, and there’s plenty of food.”
Ari returned the motherly hug and looked past her at the heaping platters of chicken, ribs, and burgers, plus all the side dishes and condiments for an outdoor feast. Although the dozen or so dinner guests were already eating, the tables hardly looked touched. She grinned. If they weren’t stuffed by the end of the evening, it wouldn’t be Mrs. Foster’s fault.
She spotted Claris, and as soon as she untangled from Ryan’s mother, she crossed the yard to join her best friend.
“About time. I’d almost given up on you.” Claris gave Ari the once-over. “I swear your tummy gets bigger every day. How is my godchild?”
“Fine, I guess. Do you really think the baby’s grown just since yesterday?” Ari looked down at her own waistline. She was a little concerned that she didn’t look bigger than she did. If anything went wrong…
“I was kidding,” Claris said. “But the baby has to be healthy and thriving. His or her mother is absolutely radiant.”
Ari blushed, disconcerted by her friend’s effusiveness. “You’re prejudiced.”
“Well, maybe, but I’m not exaggerating.” She linked her arm through Ari’s. “Come on. Let’s get our food and feed that kid. I waited for you and Ryan to get here, and I’m starving.”
“How did you know I was coming?”
“Ryan told me. He said you’ve had a long, hot day.”
When had he called her? She glanced sideways at her friend. Just how often did Ryan and Claris talk? Did it mean anything except they were close friends?
At least they’d gotten off the topic of the baby. Ari worried the subject might be painful for Claris. Not only had her friend lost her fiancé last October to a deranged warlock, but she’d also been looking forward to children almost as much as the wedding. By some strange quirk of fate, it was Ari who’d ended up with both. Still, Claris acted happy about the pregnancy and had even begged to be the child’s godmother/guide mother—as if there’d ever been a question.
“Hey, look who I found.” Ryan walked toward them followed by Steffan, the gregarious, red-headed local werewolf leader, and Jena, his more reserved she-wolf girlfriend. Jena was the leader of a Minnesota pack, but she and Steffan had dated off and on for almost two years. Her visits had become more frequent over recent months.
Steffan’s mouth widened in a grin. “I didn’t know we’d see our mama-to-be tonight. How is my godchild?”
“We’re both fine.” Ari smiled, and they hugged. This baby was going to be so blessed. She and Andreas couldn’t decide who should be their child’s male mentors, so they’d chosen three of their closest men friends: Ryan, Steffan, and Gabriel, Andreas’s second in command.
Ari stepped back and gave Jena a conspiratorial smile. They’d been friends for two years since they’d worked together to rescue Steffan from the hands of misguided fanatics. “I heard you two are ready to set a date.”
“We already have, sort of. Next spring,” Jena said, giving Steffan a shy smile. “There’s still a lot to do, transferring my pack to another leader, sorting through my belongings, and then the actual move.”
“But that’s great news. About time!”
The others added their congratulations and the group moved toward the food tables. A loud, raspy caw from the neighbor’s garage roof made Ari flinch.
Ryan whipped out his police pistol. “What’s that thing doing here?”
Steffan grabbed his arm. “Jeez, Ryan. You can’t go shooting up the neighborhood. It’s only a bird.”
Ari’s heart beat in double time, and she took a deep breath. She didn’t know if she was more startled by Ryan or the bird, but she sympathized with his over-reaction. They both needed to get a grip. Not every crow was evil. In spite of its super-loud voice, this one looked perfectly normal. Just in case, she continued to watch it from the corner of her eye.
Ryan gave a nervous half laugh and holstered his gun. “Sorry. We caught a bad murder case. Guess it’s made me a little edgy.”
“A little? Relax, man.” Steffan clapped him on the back. “You’re off duty now. What you need is a beer or two.”
They made a joke of it, and beers were passed around. Ryan caught Ari’s gaze in a pointed look, and Steffan saw the exchange. When the werewolf lifted a questioning eyebrow, Ari shrugged and turned away, not wanting to explain her own paranoia.
She glanced at the garage roof again. The bird was gone.
Ari sighed and straightened her shoulders. They’d made some early assumptions about this case…and who might be behind it. Before she or Ryan shot an innocent bystander, they’d better find the hard evidence, including the victim’s name and why someone—or something—so powerful wanted her dead.
Ari really hoped it had nothing to do with her or Andreas.
* * *
Shortly after 2:00 a.m. Ari looked up from her seat on the study floor among an array of files, books, and computer printouts to see Andreas in the doorway. A tousled black curl hung over his forehead as usual. Dark, confident, sexy as hell. She popped to her feet and hurried toward him. “I hadn’t expected you this early.”
“How could I stay away?” He wrapped her in a possessive hug, capturing her lips in a quick kiss. When he released her mouth, he rested his forehead against hers. “I always miss you.”
“Me, too.” She smiled into his eyes.
He rubbed a hand across her belly. “How are you?”
She laughed. “I wondered how long it would take you to ask. We are fine. Kicking and eating like a horse.” She dropped her arms from his neck, wrapped one around his waist, and they turned to walk toward the piles on the floor. “How’d your meeting go?”
“Very well. I’m rather surprised at how smoothly the coalition is coming together. Of course, there is a long way to go, but the initial cooperation has been better than expected.”
“Good. Maybe the other vampire courts are waking up to the fact that the O-Seven are a danger to everyone…even the vampires livi
ng on this continent.”
“They understand there’s a risk but not the type of danger you mean,” he said dryly. “They’re more alarmed about their pocketbooks. Most of them are businessmen and opposed to sharing profits or control of their finances with a group based in Germany. They cannot imagine submitting to the elders without a fight.” He abruptly stopped, leaned forward to sniff her hair, and frowned. “Now I place that scent. What’s happened in my absence? Is there a problem?”
“The sage, you mean? Just a precaution. I did a smudging.” She smiled to ease the tension on his face. “I can’t have any negative vibes affecting our child.” Her face sobered. “There was a murder. A nymph, who died under strange circumstances.”
“Very strange if it requires a magical cleansing, the Book of Shadows…and your files on the O-Seven.” His frown deepened, and he squeezed her waist protectively. “You should have called me.”
“Honestly, Andreas, it’s not like that. There’s no indication the elders are involved. It’s just me. You know how suspicious I am.” She smoothed his frown lines away with her fingers. “The last months…have been so perfect. But I can’t get over the feeling that our reprieve will end soon.”
“Cara mia.” Andreas cradled her face between his hands and brushed his lips against hers. “Any time I spend with you is perfect. Whatever comes, we will handle it…together. Just as we always have.” He looked at the scattered papers and dropped his hands. “Tell me about your murder case and what you hope to find among these.”
She settled on the floor and described the victim’s injuries, the large crow at the crime scene, even the sighting at the barbeque. Andreas’s face grew darker the longer she talked, but he didn’t interrupt. “Does this mean something to you?” she asked. “Can one of the elders call the crows?”
“I’ve never heard so, but that isn’t proof one way or the other.”
“I’ve checked our family grimoires. They don’t list the O-Seven’s special abilities, but I’d think the oldest vamps on earth must be able to do just about anything they want.”