TVs flashed around us with ten screens showing various sports and news channels. Our eyes fixed on the one above the bar as the news announcer reported a death in Oregon just south of Coos Bay. The captions read, "Vincent Reader, owner of Glendale Antiquities, was found dead this morning in the Oregon Dunes."
"Do ye see that?" asked Gabrihen.
"Yeah. Doesn't look like they have any suspects yet."
"I have an idea," he said, sipping his brew.
"You're not thinking that little Thai sprite had something to do with it?"
"I do."
Fighting an irrational urge to defend a female I didn't know, I downed half my drink.
Gabrihen watched me, his eyes fixed and cold with an unspoken threat. "Whatever you're thinking, my friend, stop. We are not getting involved with this."
"What's the harm in taking a look?"
"Before or after my Father gets wind of our whereabouts?"
"He knows we're looking for the sword. This is merely part of the investigation. After all, the man who had it is dead."
He took a few long pulls from his drink before setting down the empty glass a bit harder than necessary. The noise drew the attention of nearby patrons, and our waitress, who was coming toward us, did a sudden turnabout.
Gabrihen leaned over the table, lips firm, eyes fixed and glowing gold—something that happened with Spirians when their emotions were high. "You asked me why I get so frustrated with you? This is why! You don't know when to stop. It's like a disease. The hole keeps getting deeper, but you can't stop shoveling the dirt beneath your sinking feet."
I sat back and took a pull from my beer. "Does that mean we're not going to investigate a murder that may have been caused by a rogue Spirian in your father's region?"
"You're playing that card? Really?"
"I'm just saying. As the leader's son, you're responsible for checking things out, yeah?" I took a few more sips. "But … if you prefer to forget about that poor man's fate, that's fine with me. Let Tarence take care of the rogue female."
He gestured to our waitress for the check. "You're a piece of work, Connor, ye know that?"
Gabrihen placed an energetic veil around us before we transported to the crime scene. It had been taped off to ward away curious onlookers. No one was around. The bright yellow tape fluttered in the subtle breeze around a patch of sand. All evidence had been removed. The place felt still and empty as a graveyard.
Gabrihen stiffened and looked around as if he sensed more than just a previous murder.
"What is it?" I asked.
"She was here." He continued to scan the area.
"And?"
"Along with five Shadows."
A chill trickled over my spine as if he had poured ice water down my shirt. Gabrihen and I fought well, but we were no match for five Shadows; fallen Angels with hearts like tar dark and empty of life. "Is the female in cohorts with them?"
He shook his head and then knelt down to sift the sand through his fingers. "This is more than we can handle."
"Is she with them?" I asked again, my voice harsh and deep.
He stood, his golden eyes focused on me. "Yes. She's with them."
A growl rumbled deep in my chest. "We need to find her."
He spun me around to face him. "This is more than about the sword with you, Connor. What's going on?" When I didn't answer, he stepped back, his hand cupped over his chin as if in thought. "She's with the Shadows now. Leave her be."
Again, I growled, a typical reaction from a male who has bonded with a female he intends to mate. I turned away, not believing my response to her plight. She was not my type, nor was I in the market for a mate—any mate.
"They hold her against her will," Gabrihen added, like a cat toying with a mouse. He wanted to solicit a reaction from me, one I wasn't willing to offer.
My jaw tightened as I forced myself to breathe deeply and slowly. "Do you sense the sword?"
"Aye, she had it when they took her."
"Then we follow the sword."
"To what end? These are not Shadow misfits, my friend. They do not operate on their own."
"I will find her, with or without your help." The seriousness in my tone surprised even me; it was a bold claim considering I had no idea where to look, no transportation, and no money.
"Fine," he said. "Have at it then." Poof, he was gone.
"Perfect," I muttered under my breath. Now what? To start, I followed the tire tracks in hopes they would lead me out of the dunes. They didn't. I managed to bury myself deeper into the rolling mounds of endless sand. Gabrihen returned an hour later.
"Are ye plannin' on settin' up camp here? It'll be dark in another hour."
His innate question didn't merit an answer. I continued to walk.
"What is it they say? Pride comes before a fall?"
I turned to face him. "Don't be an ass."
"Should I leave ye, then?"
"If all you plan to do is flap those lips of yours and spew petty jibes, then yes, please leave."
"Your female is being held at a house in Coos Bay. Three blokes remain with her, the other two are missing along with your father's sword."
"Is she all right?"
He sank down onto the sand and sat cross-legged. He wouldn't meet my eyes.
I knelt down beside him. "Talk to me, Gabrihen. Is she all right?"
His eyes looked dull and deep as he met my gaze. "She's ruffed up a bit."
There was more he didn't tell me, but through telepathy, I learned the rest with vivid detail. She had been used and left bleeding. The image of her naked body quivering on the bed would forever be emblazoned in my mind. A roar from the depths of my gut sliced through the air, resonating until I had no air left in my lungs.
"Take me to her."
Chapter 4
The three Shadows sat in the living room, sucking beer and watching some horror flick on a huge flat-screen TV. They did not detect us through Gabrihen's veil, but that wouldn't last long. Our first plan of action was to free the woman. After that, who knew what hell would follow?
There she was, strapped face down on the mattress, her arms and legs spread and bound to the fourposter bed. As an alchemist, I had the power to change the physical makeup of any substance. With a thought, the ropes that bound her became fragile as spiderwebs. I reached down to take her into my arms, when the first of the Shadows entered the room.
"What the hell?"
He didn't see Gabrihen until it was too late. My friend back-fisted his face, grabbed the back of his head, and then slammed him into the doorframe.
The woman, now startled, rolled off the bed, eyes wide and poised for a fight. When the other two blokes rushed into the room, Gabrihen grabbed one, while I tackled the other to the floor. He reached for a gun. Before he could pull the trigger, I turned the metal to rubber, then knocked the weapon from his hand.
The trick to fighting other gifted beings was not to give them a chance to invoke their gifts. This was not always an easy thing to do. The Shifter I battled was an elementist who could change one object into whatever suited him. The rubber gun he managed to grab from the floor morphed into a dagger. Again, I changed it to rubber. The Shadow was swift and resourceful. He produced a blade and sliced through my arm. I twisted his wrist until the knife fell, and then followed through to break the joint. The man yelled, kicked my head, and then dove for the rubber dagger.
Gabrihen flew through the air above us, slamming into the bed's foot post. The man who threw him followed with an impressive leap, which landed him on Gabrihen's chest. The first man Gabrihen had knocked out recovered and stood with a gun aimed at Gabrihen's head. With a thought, I melted the weapon, burning his hands.
I took my focus from my opponent long enough for him to reform his weapons. He moved fast. The blade he jabbed toward me nicked my ribs. I elbowed his face and then followed through with a leopard strike to his throat—a fatal blow.
I grabbed the man off Gabrihen and to
ssed him into the one with singed hands. Before they could recover, I planted a solid kick to the pair, reeling them into the wall. I was done playing. My next few blows were fatal. I threw in several more just to be sure.
Gabrihen held my arm. "Stop."
One more hit for what they did to the female. I looked around the room. She was gone. A breeze fluttering the gauzy white curtains indicated her route of escape.
Gabrihen's face paled as he studied the tattoo on his opponent's left arm. The man was mated and held high status. "They're from William's clan."
"From London? What in bloody hell are they doing here?"
Gabrihen glanced at the window. "Let's find out."
Chapter 5
We traced her three blocks over. Her black clothes, which came from God knew where, made her blend into the night.
"What is she doing?" asked Gabrihen.
"Looks like she’s trying to pick the door lock."
"To a bank? Is she daft?"
"Come on."
This time, I would not underestimate the sprite's talent. Being deaf, she could not hear me approach from behind. I grabbed her and locked her shoulder. She struggled, kicked her feet, and fought against my hold for over a minute before sinking against me, exhausted and spent.
Gabrihen stood before her and used sign language to communicate. It was a parlance most Spirians learned at a very young age.
"Who are you?" he asked her.
Using her one free hand, she finger-spelled, "Malai."
"What are you doing?"
"Sword here," she signed. "I need it or my father dies."
"Tell her we'll help her," I said.
His golden eyes glowed in the dark, illuminating his stubborn jaw and mouth. "Are you crazy?"
"Let's get the sword and take her where we can talk. This is not a good place."
"I have a better idea. Let's take her back to Tarence and let him deal with her."
"And what about the Shadows we killed?"
"We destroyed their bodies."
"They could have identified us to their missing cohorts telepathically. You said there were five of them, yeah?"
Gabrihen paced, fists white, strides short and heavy. When he stopped before the young woman, she pressed back against me.
"Where is the sword?" he asked her.
"Box seventeen."
"I'll need your help," he told me.
Gabrihen warned her to stay. When she nodded, I released my hold. Her tiny hands rubbed the strained shoulder and elbow I had locked. I was no better than the monsters who had tied her to the bed. The impulse to comfort her felt strong, yet instinct warned me it was a bad idea. She was a warrior, albeit a wounded one.
"Come on," said Gabrihen.
He poofed us into the bank. The veil he placed around us prevented the motion sensors and cameras from detecting our presence.
"Can you change the properties of the vault so we don't get trapped inside?"
"Of course." If the vault contained lead, our powers would be rendered useless and he would not be able to transport us back out. With a thought, I changed the vault to something less harmless, like plastic.
"Nice," said Gabrihen. "I do love that gift of yours."
We popped into the vault and searched for box seventeen. When we found the thing, we both pondered how to open it.
"Any suggestions?"
"I could change the properties of the door, but it would be altered after we open it. We don't want to raise suspicion."
"I could try placing the object in abeyance where we could retrieve it later."
Abeyance is what Gabrihen considered his private limbo where things could be stored and retrieved.
"Give it a shot."
"I cannot see inside. Change the properties to something less dense."
I did, changing the box to glass.
"Perfect."
The sword inside disappeared.
"Let's get out of here," said Gabrihen.
We decided that camping in the woods would be a safe bet. The weather was nice and the Shadows would not look for us here. Malai was miffed about us hiding the sword and refused to partake in the rabbit we hunted for dinner. I had found some wild carrots and potatoes, which enabled us to cook the lot as a thick stew. Having grown up in a camp environment and learning to live off the land, Gabrihen and I were well-versed with outdoor survival.
Malai sat huddled next to the fire and gestured to the cooking pot, hunting bow, and other appurtenances. "Where did all this come from?" she signed.
I tried explaining Gabrihen's abeyance, but she refused to believe that objects could be stored in some ethereal place. She had never seen a wizard before and watched my friend with disturbing interest.
Despite her refusal to eat, I placed a bowl of stew before her. Wanting to intrigue her, I changed the flimsy fork into an implement of gold with ornate carvings in the handle.
"Illusionist?" she signed.
I shook my head and then finger spelled, "Alchemist."
Her nose scrunched up as she tilted her head. "Not understand."
How could I explain a gift that few if any Spirians understood? She kept comparing me to illusionists and elementists, but in truth, I was neither. My gift enabled me to change physically the properties of any object, not just their appearance.
Gabrihen joined us with his third bowl of stew.
"Where do you come from?" he asked her.
She picked her bowl up and took a hesitant taste. Her slender brows arched as she looked at the meal with new interest. After three more bites, she set the portion down and signed, "Brixton."
"From the UK?" I asked.
She nodded and then picked her meal up for another few bites.
"What does William's clan want with you and the sword?" asked Gabrihen.
She set her bowl down, shoulders hunched as if her answer would stir a shock. Again, I wanted to comfort her, keep her close, and shield her from the world's darkness. What the hell was wrong with me?
"Who taught you to fight?" I asked.
"My father. He owns the Pearl Dao in Brixton. He's taught for many years."
"And your mum?"
She made the sign for dead, but her expression said so much more. The blank look in her dark eyes and the methodical way she chewed each bite told a story she wanted to keep unspoken.
"Tell us about William," Gabrihen repeated.
After finishing her meal, she set the bowl down one final time, took a deep breath, and wrung her hands.
"We are in this with you now," said Gabrihen, his voice sharp. "We need to know."
"Take it easy, Gabrihen. This is hard for her."
He stood and started to pace, tossing a handful of pine needles into the flames where they hissed and sparked.
I turned back to the girl who looked ready to bolt. "It's all right. He's a bit amped up is all. He's right, however. We are deep in this now and need to know to what extent."
Her eyes darkened as if all light had been extinguished from her soul. Then, her delicate hands flowed into a story that made my blood boil.
"Vincent was an orphan," she signed. "My father took him in; raised him as his own. He'd heard about the sword, Aeneas, from the boys in town. His fascination with its power grew into an obsession. When he learned that our enemy, the man who killed my mother and raped my sister, had the sword, he struck a deal with William. Vincent offered me to William in exchange for the sword. My father was outraged and banned Vincent from our home. When William came to collect me, my father stood in his way."
Her head hung down as she shuddered in silent sobs. After a few moments, she wiped the tears from her eyes, took a few deep breaths, and continued with her story.
"I must return the sword in exchange for my father. I have three days left before he is killed."
"Three days?" asked Gabrihen. "Christ, that doesn't give us much time."
"How did you escape from William when he came to get you?" I asked.
&n
bsp; "My father sent me away; told me to live in America."
"The Shadows we killed belong to William's clan. How did they find you?" I asked.
"How did you?"
"I'm a wizard," said Gabrihen. "I traced you."
When she stared into the flames without reply, both Gabrihen and I froze. Wizards were rare, and those who were Shadows were called necromancers because they delved into the dark forces. If we were up against one, we would drown in his wake.
"Bloody perfect," Gabrihen muttered.
"Can you put a veil around us?" I asked.
"Aye, then what? The energy trail we left behind at that house is like a bloody beacon. It won't take them long to find us."
"Give them what they want," Malai signed. "You must return the sword."
If William had a necromancer under his charge, the magic of the sword could be altered to initiate horrific outcomes. Few people understood Aeneas' true power save my father. I needed to contact him now, before it was too late.
"Give me the sword," I told Gabrihen.
"Are ye out of your mind? Do ye want to bring the Shadows down upon us? Perhaps ye plan t'kill them with your father's sword, yeah?"
The look I gave him silenced his rage. He stood back, hands raised. "Fine." Waving his hand with far more drama than necessary, he retrieved Aeneas from abeyance and tossed it to me.
Malai's eyes were large as stones as she witnessed the exchange. "Where are you going?" she asked me.
"To contact someone."
Gabrihen said nothing as I tucked the sword under my arm and headed toward the river. Water served as a natural veil for energy, which is what I would need after I invoked Aeneas' magic. The only power I was after was the ability to contact my father. If I would be forced to give up the sword, I wanted one last chance to use the thing.
Aiming Aeneas to the heavens, I said, "Father, I need you."
Aeneas vibrated in my hands. The tip glowed first with a soft orange hue, and then blazoned into a blue-white light that was blinding to look at. The sword then flew from my hand, landing in the water, tip down. I went to retrieve it. When I turned back to the shore, a figure stood before me.
"Father?"
The man was huge, 6' 7", black hair, eyes the color of dark honey, and the physique of a warrior in his prime dressed in Spartan garb. He stood there staring at me as if considering a purchase.
"You've grown to be a strong lad," he said, though I couldn't place his accent. "Ye have your mother's eyes."