Ashes Reborn

“Good. Where did the assault happen?”

  Though his tone was so matter-of-fact it edged toward curtness, I couldn’t help but notice his hands were clenched. Couldn’t help but sense he wanted revenge every bit as badly as either Jackson or I.

  And maybe he would have reacted the same way had I simply been a fellow PIT officer or even a member of the public, but I suspected the fact we’d once loved each other had a whole lot to do with whatever he was now planning.

  “It happened in what I think is an old pump room.” I paused. “Why?”

  “Because, if you’re up to it, Frederick is going to receive a little of his own medicine.” The smile that touched his lips was an ugly thing to behold. “It’s more than deserved, don’t you think?”

  “That is something of an understatement,” Jackson commented, even as I said, “I’m up to it.”

  More lights began to pierce the gloom, accompanied by the sound of footsteps as well as something being dragged. I couldn’t help hoping that something was Frederick.

  “Lead the way,” Sam said.

  I wrapped the ends of Jackson’s coat tighter around my bruised body, then spun and hobbled forward. Jackson muttered something under his breath, then swept me up into his arms. “You direct. I’ll do the walking.”

  “Just follow this tunnel until we hit the junction.” I glanced across at Sam. Though his expression was remote, something in the set of his mouth spoke of annoyance. “Have the searches of the various vinegar factories turned up anything?”

  “Vinegar factories?” Jackson said.

  “That’s what the chemical formula you found in Brooklyn was,” Sam said, his tone clipped. He stepped over the rotting carcass of what looked like a cat, then added, “And no, it hasn’t yet. It’s possible it was nothing more than a red herring.”

  Maybe it was, but something within me doubted it. “It might have been the only clue they could leave without being obvious.”

  “The scientists are infected,” Sam said. “I doubt they would have even considered such a thing.”

  “I think the scientists are more likely to be like you than regular red cloaks.” I paused, remembering what Frederick said about the decaying cloaks we’d discovered in Brooklyn. “Were you aware that the cloaks with the brand on their cheeks had a variation of the virus that rotted them out?”

  Sam’s smile was grim. “Yes. And we’re not entirely sure that it’s a variation rather than a path that all of those who are infected will travel.”

  “If that was going to happen, there’d at least be signs by now.”

  “You can’t be sure of that. No one can.”

  “Luke was.” I might not have asked him that question, but I nevertheless believed the truth of my answer. “And I’m pretty sure if you ask Frederick about the virus, he’ll confirm it.”

  “There are bigger questions to be asked before we get to something like that,” Sam said.

  Like, where were the scientists? And where the hell was Rinaldo? “I think Frederick is a thrall. He implied as much when he was questioning me.”

  Sam’s gaze shot to mine. “What was he questioning you about?”

  “He wanted the name of a witch. I wasn’t inclined to supply it.”

  “Why would he want that sort of information from you?” Jackson said.

  “He was impressed by her skill and creativity. Take the tunnel on our immediate right,” I added as we hit the junction once again.

  “Why is this place familiar?” Jackson said.

  “It’s where the hellhounds attacked me.”

  “I won’t even ask,” Sam said. “I gather the creativity Frederick was talking about was the twined rope charm he was clutching when we nabbed him?”

  “Yes. Don’t suppose you have it with you, do you?”

  He pulled a plastic bag from his pocket but didn’t immediately offer it to me. “What is it designed to protect you against?”

  “Any magic or spell created to stop me from accessing my fire form.”

  “Magic can do that?”

  “It can if you know the right magic. Few do.” My gaze narrowed. “Why? Are you thinking about pursuing such a spell?”

  “There’s no need to, now that you’re working with us rather than against.”

  He held out the plastic bag; after a moment’s hesitation, I accepted it. “Don’t you have to hand it in or something?”

  “I’ll log it, but it’s better off with you rather than sitting in an evidence locker.” He paused. “I would, however, like to talk to the witch who created it. PIT could certainly use some means of protection against spells.”

  My eyebrows rose. “Has that actually been a problem?”

  “Only minor to date, but yes.”

  “I’m surprised PIT hasn’t got witches on the books,” Jackson commented. “It would seem a rather logical step if you ask me.”

  “We do have witch consultants,” Sam said. “But I don’t think they’re powerful enough to create something like that charm.”

  Given Grace was powerful enough to work through—and understand—the earth mother, that wasn’t really surprising. I doubted there were many witches in Melbourne capable of such a feat—not now that three of them had died in these damn tunnels.

  “Getting back to the problem currently being dragged along behind us,” I said, “what’s the point of bringing Frederick back to the scene of his crime when, as a thrall, he would never betray his master?”

  “He may not be willing to tell us anything, but he could certainly be forced to.”

  “Rinaldo will stop him. We both know that.” I spotted the metal stairs that led up to the half-wrecked pump room and silently directed Jackson toward it.

  “Rinaldo can only stop him if he is aware of the situation. He won’t be.”

  “And how do you intend to stop that?”

  “I can’t. Adam, however, can. He’s one of the men dragging Frederick here, and he should be able to prevent Frederick from linking with Rinaldo.”

  Adam was Sam’s partner, and a vampire to boot. I’d met him only a couple of times, but he seemed pretty decent. He’d certainly been a whole lot less frosty toward me than Sam had been in the early days of the investigation.

  “But Rinaldo’s an extremely powerful telepath—one capable of entirely taking over mind and body,” I said. “Will Adam have the telepathic strength to counter that? Because I rather suspect Rinaldo will kill Frederick rather than risk him telling us anything.”

  “I doubt Rinaldo will waste such a valuable resource—”

  “Don’t doubt,” Jackson said as he clattered up the metal steps. “He would discard anything and anyone, no matter how valuable, if it suited him.”

  “Perhaps.” Sam’s tone suggested he didn’t agree.

  Jackson kicked the door open, then strode into the old pump room. It was as I’d left it, only the dust had had a chance to settle. “How do you want to play this, Turner?”

  “Once we get Frederick securely tied to the table, we’ll all retreat back to the sewers except for Emberly and Adam.”

  Jackson frowned. “What about the possibility of him using magic?”

  “He’s a dark witch and, from what I understand, they not only need some sort of blood sacrifice to create their spells, but also their Athame,” Sam said.

  “I wouldn’t be sure about that,” I said. “If Frederick’s a thrall, he could be far older than he looks. Older witches often don’t need ceremonial devices. They just need the power of their thoughts and their soul to create a spell, especially if it’s only a simple one such as forcing his will on another.”

  “I know someone who’d be able to tell us.” Jackson carefully placed me on my feet near the table; then, as the sound of footsteps coming up the metal stairs began to echo, he got out his phone and made a call.

 
“Grace, sorry about the late hour, but I have a rather urgent question for you.” He paused for a moment, listening, and then added, “Yeah, we did find the dark witch. But we need to question him, and we want to know if he can use magic against us using just his thoughts and will.”

  He paused again, listening. His expression suggested the answer wasn’t one he wanted. “Right. Thanks, Grace.”

  He hung up and shoved his phone back into his pocket. “Em’s right. He’ll more than likely be able to perform at least minor magic against us. However, she said if we use some form of hallucinogenic drug, it should impair his mind enough to stop that.”

  “No matter what either of you think of PIT,” Sam said, his voice dry, “we generally don’t carry any sort of drugs around with us.”

  Adam and one other PIT officer came into the room, dragging the still-unconscious Frederick between them. Once they’d lifted him onto the table, they began tying him up with what looked like plastic cables. PIT might not carry drugs around with them, but it seemed they did come equipped with black cable ties.

  “Frederick woke me with some sort of stimulant,” I said, looking around. “It’s possible there’s some sort of medical bag in the room—especially given he used an ambulance to transport me.”

  “It’s over in the corner,” Jackson said. “And so are your clothes and purse, by the look of it.”

  He retrieved all three items, shaking off the brick dust from my clothes and purse before handing them to me. Then he dumped the medical bag on top of Frederick’s stomach and opened it up. “There’s all sorts of stuff in here. Anyone know anything about drugs?”

  “Adam?” Sam said.

  “Adam’s a medic?” I couldn’t keep the surprise from my voice.

  “No, I’m not,” he said, his expression amused. He was a tall, thin man with blondish hair and cool gray eyes. He looked nonthreatening, even for a vampire, and for that reason alone I suspected he was very much the opposite. “But I can contact base, and someone who is.”

  “Instant communication is one of the benefits of having a telepathic partner,” Sam said.

  Adam began inspecting the contents of the bag, studying each item and presumably relaying the information back to whomever he was in contact with. I used the time to pull on my jeans. Surprisingly, Janice’s phone was still in my back pocket. I pulled it out, ended the call, and then quickly added a password. Having a second phone could come in handy.

  I didn’t bother putting on my shoes—I doubted my broken toe would be too pleased with the sudden pressure—nor did I bother with my sweater or bra, instead shoving both into my handbag. I wasn’t about to strip off to put either on, even if half the men in the room had seen me naked, be it in the present or the past. Which left my T-shirt, and I used that to belt Jackson’s coat tighter.

  After a few more minutes, Adam handed Sam a small vial and a needle. “According to Billy, this should do the trick.”

  “Excellent.” Sam filled the syringe, then roughly jabbed it into Frederick’s arm. Once he’d dumped both the vial and the syringe back into the bag, he glanced at me and said, “We’ll retreat. Adam will remain here with you, but Frederick shouldn’t sense him.”

  I nodded. Jackson gripped my shoulder briefly, and warmth leapt from his skin to mine. Warmth and concern. I smiled and silently said, I’m okay, Jackson. Really.

  He didn’t say anything, just gave me a somewhat disbelieving look, then followed Sam and the other PIT officers out the door. As it clanged shut, I glanced at Adam and said, “So how do we play this?”

  “This is your game. I’m just here to stop any sort of connection happening.”

  Sparks danced across my fingertips in anticipation. “How close is he to consciousness?”

  “Close enough.”

  “Good.” I hobbled forward, raised a hand, and slapped Frederick across the cheek. The blow was hard enough to snap his head sideways, but there was no immediate response. I slapped him again. His eyes popped open, and he swore. But the words were slow and somewhat slurred.

  Then his gaze narrowed, and I rather suspected he was reaching for some sort of magic. I didn’t wait to see if the drug we’d administered had worked; I simply slapped him for a third time. I might not know a whole lot about magic, but I knew spells needed the caster’s undivided attention. If rattling his teeth disrupted that, I was more than happy to keep doing it.

  “Frederick, you have one chance, and one chance only, to tell me what I want to know, or I’m going to burn you piece by tiny piece, until you’re screaming for the salvation of death.”

  Frederick’s smile was cool and altogether too calm. “You can hurt me as much as you like, but I will never tell you anything. I can’t.”

  “I’m not so sure about that,” I said. “I’m thinking your inability to give me answers might rely on your master’s restrictions rather than on any sort of mental strength on your part.”

  “Perhaps that is so, but it still means I can’t give you anything.”

  “A statement that is true only if you can actually reach Rinaldo—and I rather think you can’t right now.”

  He was silent for a minute, his expression slackening, suggesting he was attempting to reach Rinaldo telepathically; then it came to life again filled with a mix of fury and fear.

  “What have you done to me?” His body jerked as he tried to leap at me, but he was too well tied to move even the smallest amount. So he settled for raising his head and spitting.

  I sizzled the globule long before it got anywhere near me. “It’s not much fun being on the other side of things, is it?”

  “I’ll get you for this, bitch.”

  Sweat was beginning to dot his forehead. I wondered if it was fear, or the drug taking hold. If it was the drug, then maybe I needed to speed things along. Keeping him confused as well as fearful was probably my best means of assault right now.

  I dropped my right hand and streamed fire from my fingertips, and then shaped them into humanoid forms that slowly grew, until the table was surrounded by fiery beings that glared at him balefully.

  “What the fuck?” he said, his voice high. “Who are they?”

  “The thing about attacking a spirit,” I said conversationally, “is the fact we are rarely ever alone. And we do tend to get pissed off if you hurt one of us.”

  He pushed up against the cable ties again. “I can’t tell you anything.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  I pulled a slither of fire from the flame form nearest his hips and let it press down on his groin. He screamed, even though I hadn’t yet started to burn.

  “Where are the scientists, Frederick?”

  “I don’t know. For fuck’s sake, you’ve got to believe me. You’ve got to stop him.”

  “Him” being my fiery alter ego, I gathered. “Like you stopped Hunt from raping me?”

  His gaze snapped to mine; this time, the panic was sharper. “I can’t give you what I don’t know.”

  “So the claim that you and Rinaldo had the scientists was yet another boast?” Just as Jackson had believed.

  “Yes, for god’s sake, yes. I honestly don’t know where they are.”

  “I really don’t think honesty and you are all that familiar,” I said. “But perhaps the loss of a small piece of your anatomy will encourage you to become so.”

  I pressed the fiery hand deeper. A pulse began to beat heavily in my head, a warning that I was once again pushing my limits. I once again ignored it. “Tell me where the scientists are, Frederick.”

  His jeans began to smolder, the material peeling away from my fiery touch. The stench of burning hair soon stained the air, but I didn’t press any further. Not yet.

  “I don’t know, you have to believe me, I don’t.”

  His words tumbled out over one another, his gaze wide, desperate. Yet there was s
omething in the deeper recesses of his eyes, something that spoke of cunning. He thought he could fool me. Thought I wouldn’t carry through with my threat.

  I burned his cock.

  He screamed. It was a god-awful sound, but I had no intention of showing him any sort of compassion or mercy. He didn’t deserve it, and not just because he’d left me to Hunt’s tender mercies, but because of what he’d helped do to those witches and undoubtedly to countless others. The virus might have made them Luke’s to control, but it had been Frederick’s magic that had helped make their capture possible.

  “Tell me,” I said, lifting the flames from his flesh again. His cock was red and already beginning to blister. Part of me hoped he would lose function. Part of me hoped he would continue to stall and I could finish what I started. “Or face life as a eunuch.”

  He was panting and sweating now, his expression one of pain and desperation. “I haven’t got that information. Please, you must believe me.”

  This time, I raised the hands of all my fiery creations. The beating in my head got stronger. I gripped the table to keep upright and said, my voice harsh, “I’m afraid I don’t. You’re Rinaldo’s thrall, and he’s trusted you for generations to hide his presence and keep his schemes running undetected beneath a veil of magic. You cannot do either without knowing location details.”

  I pressed the raised hands down. As his entire body began to smolder, he screamed, “All right, all right, just stop it—stop them.”

  I drew the fire back into my body, but it didn’t ease the ache in my head. Only food, green tea, and fire could do that now, and not necessarily in that order.

  “Tell me where the scientists are,” I said yet again.

  “I don’t fucking know. We never have.” He shook his head, as if trying to clear it. “That’s part of the damn reason we sent you and the fae into Brooklyn.”

  “You think they’re still there?” I asked, surprised.

  “Yes. They have to be—there’s no other place in Melbourne they could be.”

  “We didn’t find them there.”

  “You found a damn air lock—one that’s more than likely protecting the labs. Where else could they be?”