Eternal Fires

  He shrugged. “With them, anything is possible. And a specialty—such as Bastian’s mind control—doesn’t preclude them from also having the ability to call animals—or crows.”

  Ari picked up a handful of papers and sighed. “I meant to study these files long before now—to figure out how we could defend ourselves in the future, but I guess I didn’t want to admit they’d be back. This murder is a reminder of how quickly bad things can happen.”

  Andreas folded his tall body and sat beside her, one arm resting on his knees, the other extended toward her. “I’ll help. Which files are left?”

  “All of them. I read through our witchcraft books first.” She handed him three of the seven folders: Bastian, Porbius, and Fiorosom. Last year she’d brought home digital and printed files compiled by the German witches who fought the O-Seven’s forces every day.

  She set three of the remaining folders aside for the moment—Luc, Anselm, and Tannen, flipped open the one labeled Noapte, and began reading. The data on each elder was divided into categories, listing their names, history, known abilities, and miscellaneous facts. Despite the centuries of history covered, the collected data was skimpy, some of it nothing more than speculation.

  Ari’s frustration grew as she and Andreas compared notes and realized just how incomplete the files were. With the exception of Bastian’s mind control and Anselm’s sensory manipulation, the spaces for enhanced abilities were blank or filled with question marks and what appeared to be nothing more than wild guesses. In fact, some of the entries in every category were more fiction than fact.

  “This can’t be true.” Ari made a rude noise in her throat and waved the page she’d been reading. “Why would the vampires be responsible for burning Rome?” When Andreas raised an eyebrow, she widened her eyes. “Were they?”

  He finally laughed. “I have no idea, but I doubt it. When I was growing up in Italy, no one mentioned the vampires. Nero always got the blame, even though historians said it was more likely an accident of some kind.”

  “Then why’d you do that eyebrow thing?” She wiggled a finger at her own brow.

  “To make you smile.”

  She leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. “Thanks. I guess I was getting a little intense.”

  “Just a little. Why don’t I call Daron and see if he can fill in the blanks on these forms? You should go to bed.”

  “I know. I will in a minute.” Ari brushed the hair back from her face. “I rested for a couple hours after the barbeque, but I couldn’t sleep. That’s when I pulled the files. I really thought they’d be more help.” She shoved them into an untidy stack. “Would Gabriel know? How long was he at the elders’ court?”

  “Almost two years, but don’t get your hopes up. He wasn’t part of the inner circle, and the elders are experts at keeping secrets.” Andreas stood and grabbed the stack of files, rearranging them into better order before setting them on the rolltop desk. “Let us get you to bed.”

  “What about asking Zylla?” Ari’s face brightened. “Surely she can tell us something. She’s fought against them.” The eight-hundred-year-old vampiress who lived in the Vampire Caverns under the Mississippi Cliffs had been involved in the first vampire versus witch wars of 1329…as a witch. If any outsider knew the elders’ abilities, it might be Zylla.

  “Excellent idea.” Andreas pulled her to her feet. “But it will have to wait until tomorrow night. If not for your sake, consider how much rest the baby needs.”

  Ari narrowed her eyes. Then her lips curved. “Yes, obnoxiously protective papa-to-be.” He’d been using the baby’s health to manipulate her for months. It was actually kind of sweet.

  He grinned impishly, grabbed her hand, and started toward the broad staircase that led to the upper floors. “By the way, the Chicago meeting was rife with questions about our child’s conception. Rumors have spread about the coming birth of the first vampire baby.”

  “What? Vampire baby? What’s the matter with people? What did you tell them?”

  “The truth. You time-traveled to 1813 Italy and met me before I became a vampire.” He shrugged and shook his head. “I’m not sure anyone believed me. They were intrigued—no, obsessed—by the idea of a vampire child. I suppose they want to believe it’s possible for their own futures, but it could be a dangerous fantasy for us…for you and the child.”

  She stopped on the stairs and stared at him. “Dangerous how?”

  He met her gaze. “If a living vampire existed, think of the power and ability such a being might have. It is a temptation or threat that others may seek to control or destroy.” He ran a hand through his black locks. “Perhaps I should have denied paternity, claimed we used a donor. Although I doubt if they would believe that either.”

  “Surely you’re exaggerating. We’ll just keep telling them the truth until they accept it.”

  He leaned forward to kiss the tip of her nose. “I hope I’m wrong, madam wife, but you didn’t see their faces.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Midmorning the next day, Ari and Ryan entered the busy Otherworld Forensics & Research Laboratory. The combo lab and library was situated in the back half of the Cultural Center, a modern structure attached to the gothic Magical Hall, and was under the direct supervision of Ari’s bosses, the Magic Council. She waved at her elf friend Cillian, but worked her way through the rows of lab counters toward the stairs to the lower level, the Otherworld morgue.

  They descended the steps and entered a series of rooms. The first looked like any other autopsy area—sterile walls, tables, cutting and probing utensils. The similarities ended at the exits into the surrounding rooms. Her eyes scanned past room two with its heavy scent of incense and sage, the pulsing lights, and large crystals sparkling from multi-level surfaces. Low chanting drifted through the closed door of room three, suggesting a ritual was in progress, and room four held rows of bubbling cauldrons. The next door was also closed and gave no hint of its purpose, but Ari knew that was the cold storage.

  She opened the door of room six. It held desks and file cabinets, an X-ray viewer on the wall, and a large computer screen—a relatively normal-looking office with a conference table in the center. Two wizards sat at the table. Her skin prickled as she crossed through the magical wards on the entrance.

  The wizards looked up. “Ms. Calin.” The elder of the two men motioned her to a chair, and she introduced Ryan.

  “Do we have a cause of death?” she asked without preamble. She was impatient; the case was bugging her. She’d even dreamed about the damned birds last night.

  “System failure due to a massive surge of adrenaline. In layman’s terms, she died of fright.” The younger wizard adjusted his oversize, horn-rimmed glasses. “Sorry, that’s the best we can do. Except,” he added when she started to protest, “the dark magic involved was not a present-day conjuring. It is old…extremely old.”

  Ari scowled. Got it. Ancient magic. But who or what was the source?

  The gray-haired wizard held up an empty evidence bag. “You’re not going to like this either. The feather is from an Otherworld creature, but we weren’t able to analyze its magic. Access was guarded by extraordinary power.”

  “What kind of power? Is it the same you detected on the body?”

  He shook his head, his expression bleak. “We didn’t get a chance to compare them. When we tried to penetrate the feather’s shields, it burst into flames.”

  “So it’s gone?” Ari gaped at him.

  “We were being very careful,” the younger man said a little desperately. “Nothing seemed to affect it, so we increased the strength of our probe a little at a time. It erupted into flames without warning, and poof, it was gone.”

  “A fail-safe,” the other wizard added.

  Ryan cleared his throat. “There goes our only piece of evidence.”

  “And link to the master.” Ari took a deep breath. “Is there anything you can tell us?”

  “Its magic is more complex than I’ve seen
before.” The older man’s face creased into deep lines. “This wasn’t the work of an ordinary rogue witch or wizard. When my colleague said extremely old, he meant closer to the father of evil.”

  Holy Goddess. Ari sucked in a breath. “Full demon magic?”

  The wizards shrugged in unison. “Maybe,” the senior man conceded. “But it feels cold and calculating rather than the intense rage that radiates from demons. Whatever it is, I don’t want to meet its master.”

  Ryan sank back in his chair. “Me neither, but I suspect I’m not going to get a choice about that.” He looked at Ari. “What do we do now?”

  She shook her head. “Put out a BOLO for something old and evil, I guess.” She swallowed her frustration, pushed away from the table, and nodded to the wizards. “Thanks. I know you did the best you could. Call me if you think of anything else.”

  “We’ll keep searching for answers.” The younger man waved as Ari and Ryan left; the older wizard was already back at the computer screen.

  Ryan walked beside her in silence until they exited the building. “They didn’t give us much to go on.”

  She nodded. “I’ll try to visit Zylla tonight. I hope she can tell me more about the crow and whether the elders control it.”

  Ryan frowned as they approached his police cruiser. “You talk as if it’s a given the O-Seven was involved, but this attack wasn’t directed at you or Andreas. You didn’t even know the victim.” He stopped with one hand on the driver’s door and studied her over the car roof. “It’s been seven months since you’ve heard from the elders. Can’t you accept that they’ve moved on? It’s over, Ari. Thanks to Bastian, they no longer believe you’re a threat.”

  “Maybe you’re right.” She gave him a rueful smile, opened the passenger door, and got in. Arguing with him was a waste of time. She didn’t have any facts to support her belief, but Bastian had warned them the reprieve wouldn’t last forever…and there was this nagging spot in her gut. Who else would send an ancient spirit after an innocent wood nymph? Until she had an answer that didn’t involve the elders, she’d be looking over her shoulder at every step. “Maybe if we start with who the victim is, we can figure out why she was killed. Let’s see if Yana’s family can help with an ID.”

  The Montrey clan of wood nymphs lived in a simple hut deep in the woods, and the nearest road ended a mile away. Ryan parked the cruiser, and they walked along a path that might have been missed if Ari hadn’t known the way. The heavy foliage offered shelter from the hot August sun, but the moist air left their skin sticky. The gnats and mosquitoes found them quickly.

  Ryan swatted at his neck. “I knew I should have let you do this visit alone. Paperwork is more appealing by the second.”

  Ari grinned as his complaint. What a fraud he could be at times. Did he think she’d forgotten he often spent weekends on hikes and climbing trips with buddies from his former Marine unit?

  She looked ahead and caught a glimpse of the distinctive dwelling among the trees, the square frame, the cabusso or rough-cut deck that completely surrounded it, and the flat roof camouflaged with tree branches and living plants. The nymphs had always been forest dwellers, and although Yana’s family home was a long way from the traditional stick-and-vine homes of her ancestors, it mimicked the past.

  Ari halted at the edge of the clearing. “Hello, anybody here?” It was expected that you announce your presence before appearing at the door.

  The front door opened and a pale-haired nymph woman ran toward them. “Ari! What a delight to see you. Welcome to our home.” She threw her arms around Ari and squeezed hard.

  “I’m glad to see you too.” Ari grinned at Kyra. “You remember Ryan?”

  “Oh, sure. Hi, Lieutenant.” She gave him a cheery smile, and he nodded in return. Kyra was the niece of Ari’s former guardian mentor, Yana, who’d been killed by werewolves nearly three years ago. But Kyra’s friendship with Ari had been cemented when the nymph adopted an offspring of Ari and Claris’s cats, Bella and Hernando.

  “How’s Chloe?” Ari asked.

  “Come see for yourself. She’s grown as big as her father.” Kyra led the way into the rustic home. “Granddad, are you up from your nap? We have visitors.”

  A much older man came from the back carrying a tray with a pitcher and a stack of cups. “I heard them arrive. Perhaps they would like a little honey tea?” Kyra took the tray from him, and he bowed to Ari and Ryan. “Welcome to my humble home.”

  Once they were settled, Ari explained why they were there, the suspicious death of an unidentified nymph woman. While she was talking, a cat leaped from a high beam and landed in her lap. “Oh my, Chloe. You’ve grown up, haven’t you, baby?” Ari cuddled the Siamese mix who blinked at her with intelligent golden eyes. A gentle rubbing of the velvety ears was rewarded by loud, rhythmic purring. Ari looked at Kyra. “She’s obviously happy here.”

  “Chloe’s part of the family,” Kyra said.

  “I know what you mean.” Ari nodded, thinking about her cats at home, Bella, the mother of the kittens, and Dona, one of Chloe’s siblings. Whenever Ari was at home, Bella was her frequent companion, but since January, Dona had rarely left her side. In fact, Dona’s behavior had been so pronounced Ari wondered if the attachment was to her unborn infant, a child who had witch blood in both family lines. Could Dona be a witch’s familiar? The kitten had staunchly refused every outside adoption, preferring to remain with Andreas and Ari. Maybe she’d known a baby would be coming before anyone else did.

  When Chloe finally jumped down and strolled away, Ari returned the conversation to her errand. “As the case stands, we don’t know who the victim is. We’re hoping you can identify her. Is anyone missing from the clan?”

  Kyra looked at her grandfather, and they both shook their heads. “We’ve heard nothing. Perhaps it was a traveler passing through the area. But how awful. Why would someone harm a stranger?”

  “She probably wasn’t a stranger to the killer. Magic and excessive violence were involved. It doesn’t feel random.”

  Kyra shuddered. “That’s even worse. I’ll ask around, but we’d know if someone was missing or expecting a guest who didn’t arrive. Have you talked with the tree nymphs in the next county?”

  “Not yet.” When Ryan looked a question, Ari explained. “They’re a separate clan of nymphs, but genetically similar, even though their imprinted memories are closer to the elves.” She frowned at him. “Do you know about imprinting?”

  He held up a hand. “Spare me the details. I get it that they look alike. Is that our next stop?”

  “If so, I better go with you,” Kyra interjected. “They’re shy and reclusive and won’t talk to strangers. I’ll have to approach them for you.”

  Within five minutes the three of them were walking back toward the cruiser. Along the way, Ari brought up the baby and asked Kyra if she was interested in being their nanny.

  “Yes, I’d love to.” Kyra smiled sheepishly. “I was afraid you weren’t going to ask. When you called about a midwife a couple months ago, you never mentioned a nanny.”

  “Gee, Kyra, I’m sorry. You seemed such a natural choice I guess I took you for granted. Andreas has to approve, of course, but I’d love to have you.”

  “Thanks. By the way, Milla’s staying nearby. You should meet her soon and decide on a midwife.”

  “Oh, great. Call me, and we’ll set up a time when Andreas can be there. He’s taking his fatherly duties very seriously.”

  Twenty minutes later, they hiked through the Davis County woods on their way to the area inhabited by the tree nymphs. It was past noon and into the worst heat of the day. The uncomfortable humidity had turned into a scorching sauna. Sweat trickled down their faces. Ari pulled the hair off her neck and fastened it in a ponytail with a band from her pocket.

  “Wait here.” Kyra motioned for them to stop. “I’ll see if they will talk to you.” She disappeared among the trees.

  Ari waved the bugs away from her face and turned h
er back on Ryan while she wiped her face with the tail of her T-shirt.

  “I’d have brought hiking gear if I’d known we were going to do this.” Ryan peered at the bloody mosquito he’d just squashed on the back of his hand. “At least the insect repellent. These things are ravenous.”

  “Hopefully she won’t be long.”

  But it was several uncomfortable minutes before Kyra reappeared. “Just two women at home. I tried, but they’re afraid to meet with you. So I asked about anyone missing, and they said no.”

  “Did you explain why we were asking?”

  “Yes, and I’m positive they don’t know who she is. If she’d been one of theirs, they’d have claimed her body for burial.”

  “OK, thanks.” Ari looked at Ryan. “I think we have to accept that. Unless we learn something to the contrary, this is a dead end.”

  “Fine by me. Now can we get out of here?”

  Ari waved him toward the return path. “Sure. Take the lead. The bugs can have first dibs on you.”

  * * *

  By the time Ari left the cop station an hour later, her stomach was growling in protest over the skipped meal. A leftover doughnut in the police break room hadn’t been a very healthy choice for a growing child. She stopped in the Daily Diner for a burger, ordered extra lettuce and tomato in a vain attempt to cover the veggie angle, and swore to do better when she got home. She grimaced at the glass of milk. It was a poor substitute for her coffee.

  “Heard you caught a murder case.” Eddie West, the red-headed crime reporter for The Clarion, grinned down at her. “Care if I join you?”

  She lifted a cynical brow. Eddie was a nice guy, a good friend when they weren’t at loggerheads over release of police information, but he was always looking for a story. Normally she had to be careful what she said to him. This time she didn’t have much to hide.