Read Arcane Solutions Online

Authors: Gayla Drummond

Arcane Solutions (19 page)

He gave us a few minutes to let that soak in. Glancing down at Leglin, I asked,
“How does it work for him, then?”

It was as though I’d thrown some switch, and both men were suddenly holding their breath.
“What?”

Nick growled, jumped to his feet and moved several steps away before turning around to stare at the hound.
“So the rumor’s true. It has to be, doesn’t it?”

I looked at my boss.
“What rumor?”

Sinking into a chair, Whitehaven focused on Leglin, his face displaying an expression I hadn’t seen on it before.
“I’m afraid so, Nicholas.”

Whatever it was, it had to be bad news.
“Hello, this is Cordi. She’s still here, and would like to know what rumor you two are referring to.”


Their hounds aren’t just part demon, but part shifter. Wolf shifter.” Nick’s lips peeled back, baring his teeth. “The original breed was normal canines. Forerunners of the breed humans have named Irish wolfhound.”

Oh, my. Hand stilling, I looked down at Leglin, who moved his head just enough to meet my eyes. For a long, silent moment, another pair of eyes lay superimposed over his in my mind.

Clear, green eyes with flecks of gold dancing in their depths. Logan’s eyes, when he was his tiger shape. The same intelligence was present in the hound’s gaze. “Oh, my god. That’s… How did they even…”

Mr. Whitehaven answered, still staring at the hound.
“The elves recorded their development of the breed. A demon, captured and forced into hound shape, bred to selected bitches from their hunting packs. At that time, all the realms were one, and demons were a continuing threat to human existence.”

Dropping into another chair, Nick clenched his hands into fists.
“But it’s said that the first litters weren’t controllable. That the elves slaughtered most of the pups, keeping only a few males for breeding.” He took a deep breath. “And around the same time, there were several disappearances. Female shifters. Wolves.”

I couldn’t seem to keep from staring at Leglin.
“If he’s part shifter, why can’t he shift? Why is he stuck as a dog?”


Not all who hold shifter bloodlines are able to change their forms, Discordia.” My boss’s voice was hushed. “The second litters were controllable and intelligent, exactly as this hound is. The elves claimed they’d simply bred the kept males back to normal dogs, to dilute the demonic blood further.”


That’s why my Alpha doesn’t want half breeds. The pack would be responsible for them, and those who can’t shift shape sometimes go insane.” Nick forced his hands to uncurl, and leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. “When that happens, we have to kill them.”

Sometimes, there were things about the supernatural types that I could go all my life and be happy not knowing. I’d now added two more to that list. My mouth opened, a question tumbling out before my brain could catch up and put the brakes on.
“Does that mean that he could be
related
to you?”

Without looking up, the shifter nodded. His voice was soft.
“Yeah, it does. Our pack is one of the oldest, and two women went missing during the time the elves were experimenting. Or so say our historical records. My family’s bloodline traces back to both.”


And they’ve used them to hunt shifters.” I shuddered hard enough to make the hound lift his head. He whined, looking up at my face. Forcing a smile, I touched his shoulder. “It’s not your fault, bub.”

Scratch the surface of any supernatural, and you’d discover unpleasant secrets. Dig deep enough, and
unpleasant
could become
horrible
. There was a question to ask, but I didn’t want to find out anything horrible about my boss.

Not knowing more about him than what he’d presented had always worked for me. However, the question had to be asked.
“How did you know that about demons?”


The advantage of being rather advanced in years. One can learn many things, as long as one makes the effort to pay attention.” He sounded like a schoolteacher.

Leglin dropped his head back onto my lap. Petting him calmed me enough to clarify another question I needed to ask in conjunction with that scream I remembered.

Killing vampires was one thing. They were walking corpses; a piece of wood was all it took to turn them to ash. At least as long as they’d passed the natural length of decomposition. But a human taken over by a demon?

That was something entirely different. Taking a deep breath, I asked,
“Can possessed humans be saved?”

Whitehaven’s smile was mournful.
“No. The possession requires tearing the host’s soul free of its physical housing, and leaves the body too polluted for that soul to return home.”

My eyes closed as I leaned my head back, air sighing out between my slack lips. Knocking a punk unconscious here and there was something I had no problem doing. Staking vampires? No problem. But killing humans? That wasn’t
what the good guys did, and being a good guy was definitely my agenda. “Well, that’s a relief.”

Nick’s cell phone went off, and I listened to him jump up.
“My Alpha. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Opening my eyes, I watched him hurry down the hall toward Kate’s office and wondered what to do if he was needed at home. There hadn’t been any calls for him since the second vampire attack. Maybe he’d told his Alpha what was going on, and the guy was just checking on him.

I needed a lot more information, so that I’d have a better idea of what to expect, dating a shifter. Maybe we could talk about it once things were settled with the cases.


If you have any reason to visit the Palisades, I want you to call ahead and inform Logan. Do you know where his business is located?”


Not really. I mean, he told me the address, and we went there the other night, but I don’t remember where it is.” Studying my boss’s face, my curiosity about his origins rose again. Old, strong, and able to do some magic. Calm even when everyone else was freaking out. Apparently not afraid of anything or anyone. He was kind of like a giant elf, just not arrogant or as pretty. Though not exactly affectionate, he always came across as warm and caring.

Shoving the curiosity back into its box, I smiled.
“So, are you hiring him?”


At least for this case. The Palisades appear to be involved, so it’s best to have someone available who is familiar with the environs. His place of business is located on West Haymill.” After my nod, Whitehaven asked, “You do trust him?”


Yes, I do. He’s been nothing but helpful since we met.”

The boss smiled, but if he had anything to say, Nick’s return kept him silent.

“Problem?” I asked, and the shifter shook his head.


Nothing important. We should probably go back to your place.”


Sure.” Rising, I petted Leglin’s head and remembered a final question. “Has anyone found out what Mr. Mitchell does?”


He’s an architect.”

Architect. Wasn’t that interesting?
“Is it okay if I borrow one of the laptops?” They had all the search software installed.

Whitehaven inclined his head in permission.
“Certainly.”

A few minutes later, just about to leave, I remembered something else.
“Did anyone talk to Mrs. Mitchell yet?”


No, she hasn’t returned Kate’s phone call. I’ll place another call,” Whitehaven assured me.


All right. Thanks.”

 

Twenty-two

 

Nick’s hand dropped from the steering wheel to my thigh. With the previous revelation, the urge to scan the dog’s mind was growing, but I was resisting it. If Leglin was part shifter, he was more of a person than some people considered their pets. It would be rude to pry.

Not to mention, one hell of a shock if the hound thought like a person. Normal animals thought mostly in pictures, sounds, and smells, using only a few words each assigned importance to. Their minds were confusing, so I usually relied on my empathic ability and gauged their moods instead.

There were a few psychics who specialized in animal communication. They’d blown several animal whisperers out of the water, establishing lucrative careers for themselves. Not me. I preferred people, whose minds were easier for me to understand.

I needed a distraction before the urge overwhelmed me.
“Did your pack’s territory come through during the Melding?”

Nick smiled, his eyes flicking to the review mirror to check traffic behind us.
“Yeah. Not everyone’s did, which I guess you know. Some think it has to do with blood and ties, for those that did.”


Come again?”


Our pack was first formed over four thousand years ago. We’ve held the same territory for most of that time. Our dead are buried there.” He paused, signaling a lane change to pass a slower moving car.


Most of those that did come through are ancient territories. Newer packs with less established ones lost theirs.”

Listening, I suddenly realized I had no clue which of the four faerie mounds that had appeared in Santo Trueno was Thorandryll’s. That was another thing to remedy as soon as possible.

To the east, in San Antonio, I knew there were a dozen. Larger cities had received bigger influxes of supernaturals. “How many packs are here?”


Two larger and about a dozen smaller ones. Ours is one of the larger ones.”


How many is ‘large’?”

His answer astounded me.
“Around twelve hundred or so, last count.”

Census time was going to see a huge jump in population, if everyone was honest about their numbers. I knew that there were at least a few thousand vampires in the Barrows, possibly a lot more.
“Wow.”

His face dissolved into a proud smile.
“We’ve been lucky.”

Maybe not entirely lucky. Glancing over my shoulder at Leglin, I wondered if he had understood our conversation about him earlier.

The hound’s head turned, his eyes briefly meeting mine before going back to watching the scenery. It was the work of three seconds to convince myself it was important to know what his mood was.

Opening a tiny crack in my shield, I peeked at his emotional state.

Interested. Content.

Before my curiosity led to delving deeper, I closed my mental shield tight. His emotions weren’t as complex as a human’s, but more so than any true dog’s that I’d scanned.

A true dog usually had just one emotion uppermost. Not so the hound.

Did he dislike being treated like a dog? Was he aware that he couldn’t shift? Several other questions buffeted my brain, but fell aside as a blazing line of silvery red flashed into existence in my mind.

“I have a trail. Turn around.”

Twenty-three

 


You wouldn’t let me drive, so you’re going to have to go faster.” I was getting extremely impatient with our slow pace.

Nick tossed an exasperated look at me, but increased the truck’s speed. The thread shimmered down the highway, fading in the distance.
Are we heading toward the Palisades?
I dug out my phone, just in case.

A sign flashed past, and the truck slowed.
“I’ll let you know if there are any cops around, Nick. Keep going.”

Nick increased the truck’s speed again. Almost certain of our destination, I began pulling up Logan’s number.

“Who are you calling?”


Logan. Whitehaven said to call him if the Palisades came into play again. He hired him as a local liaison.”

The tiger shifter answered on the second ring.
“Hello, Discord.”

Just the sound of his voice woke my smile.
“Hey, I think we’re heading your way. My tracking sense is wide awake.”


All right. Drop by here, and I’ll be ready to go.”


Cool. I’ll call back if I’m wrong.” We traded good-byes and ended the call.

Logan was waiting in front of an opened garage door, and waved us toward it. The truck stopped before entering, Nick rolling the window down.

“We’ll take my truck. Yours is too new. Someone might mess with it,” Logan said. A single jerk of his head signified Nick’s acceptance of the idea, and we rolled through.

Two other men were present, and they stayed well back while we exited the truck, their gazes glued to Leglin. Nick grudgingly accepted Logan’s offer to shake, before the tiger turned to me.
“Still have your trail?”


Yeah. It’s a good one.”


Let’s load up and go, then.” He led the way to the other truck. Leglin had to jump into the bed, since it was a regular cab. I sat between the two shifters.


Open the back window, and he can stick his head inside,” Logan suggested while starting the engine. I did so, twisting around as he guided the truck out of the garage.

Still afternoon, the streets were crowded, and I wondered if the trail would continue to hold.
“Left up at the next light, please.”

My directions were the only conversation for the next twenty minutes.

Eventually, buildings and crowded streets gave way to actual houses, all old and in dire need of repair or razing. Those dribbled off until Logan stopped the truck at the end of a road, between two that were slowly collapsing in on themselves. “We’re out of road. Now what?”


I guess we walk.” I slid out through the driver’s door, following him to the tailgate. He lowered it, and Leglin jumped down. He spun around, head held high, tail whacking Logan in the leg.

Taking a step sideways to keep his balance, Logan said,
“Ow.”


Sorry. I’m going to have to register his tail as a dangerous weapon.”

He rubbed his thigh.
“Let me know if you need an affidavit.”

Nick joined us, sliding an arm around my waist and scanning our surroundings.
“Which way, Cordi?”


Straight on. Let’s go, Leglin.” The hound bounded ahead, ranging side to side with his nose to the ground and tail waving like a banner. At least he was enjoying the outing. It didn’t take long for me to begin to feel cranky, with the heat, bugs, and vegetation all seeming to be out to get me.

Trees seemed determined to catch and pull my hair. Scratches opened up all over my legs, thanks to the lower-lying weeds and brush. Shorts had been a huge mistake.

“I wish we’d brought some water.” Slapping a bug off my arm, I grimaced at the streak of blood left behind. “The country life, it ain’t for me.”


I can carry you,” Nick offered, wiping sweat off his brow with the back of one hand.


Thanks, but I’d just sweat and bleed all over you.”

Logan spoke up.
“Is this the longest your tracking sense has stayed active?”


No.” The question was enough to cause a mini-flashback. A blade held up, blood dripping black in moonlight. Pushing it away, I realized that I’d stopped, and both men were watching me. “What?”


Maybe we should take a breather. You’re pale.” Nick reached for my hand. “And cold.”


I’m fine. Bad memory.” Pulling free and walking, I explained. “The first time my tracking sense popped up, the trail lasted for four days.”

Batting aside a tumbleweed, Nick caught up.
“Four days? What did it lead to?”


Well, the first day I spent trying to convince someone to listen. The trail led to California, and a serial killer who liked to do his victims with a straight razor.” Mom hadn’t known how to handle it, so had called Dad. He’d convinced the right people to listen, and then accompanied the two Feds and me.

Afterwards, he’d taken me to Disneyland to try and offset some of the horror. Come to think of it, that sort of set the tone for how each parent handled my decision to join Arcane Solutions.

“How old were you?”


Nineteen. I was just getting a decent handle on my abilities.” Hopping over a branch, I pointed ahead. “It ends up there. Can either of you see anything?”

No, because trees and heavy undergrowth obscured the view. We kept going until Nick pulled me to a halt.
“What?”

He sniffed the air, glancing at Logan before answering.
“There’s a dead body in there. Stay here and I’ll take a look.”

It was tempting to agree, but no.
“I’ve seen dead bodies before.”

As the stench hit my nose, my decision wavered, but turning chicken in front of them didn’t sit well. Upon reaching the body, my first reaction was to
move away. I knew not to contaminate a crime scene, so vomited the remains of breakfast a good distance from it.

Neither shifter felt the need to unload their stomachs, or remarked on my doing so. Dragging a hand across my mouth, I fumbled for the phone and called Damian while telling them,
“Don’t touch anything or go any closer.”

The warlock answered on the first ring.
“We found the woman who was sacrificed in my vision.”


Where?”

Looking around, I gave up before even attempting an answer.
“Do your GPS tracking magic on my phone. We’re out in the hills, way past the edge of the Palisades, pretty much BFE. Oh, and bring some water.”


All right, give us a moment to locate you.” He spoke to someone before asking, “How bad is it?”


Bad. Demons eat their sacrifices.” Much of her was missing, bones marked with gouges from large teeth. The hanks of dark hair still attached to strips of scalp were my evidence she was the sacrifice. Part of her face was still present.


Damn.” He breathed the word. “All right, we have your location. We’re on the way.”


Don’t forget the water.” Call ended, I looked around for somewhere to sit that didn’t include a view of the corpse. “Cops are on the way. Leglin, here boy.”

He obeyed, sitting next to the rock I picked as a seat. Thanks to the trees, there was plenty of shade available. The men crouched down, exchanging mutters while pointing out things to each other.

It wasn’t long before they finished, walking over to pick shady spots. Nick vented a gusty sigh. “There’s some faint tracks left, and a torn piece of plastic under her left shoulder.”


Looks like those cheap plastic painter’s drop cloths you can buy at a hardware store,” Logan clarified.


Wrapped her up. I guess even cultists don’t like getting their cars messy.” Digging my fingers into Leglin’s ruff, I gave his neck and chest a good scratching.

No one really had anything else to say, so we waited quietly for the law. It took a while, with the faint sound of sirens heralding their arrival. Those were shut off, indicating they’d found Logan’s truck.

Damian appeared first, Schumacher on his heels, a couple of uniforms following behind. More people appeared a minute or two later.

Nick jumped up to talk to them, and I let him, catching the bottle of water the warlock tossed my way. First rinsing out my mouth meant I could enjoy the long drink that followed.
“Ah.”

Everyone received a bottle of water, and Damian conjured up a bowl so that Leglin could have a drink too.

We waited. Crime scenes take a while to process. The sun was dipping toward the horizon before Damian came over. “Cordi, do you think you could try and see if there are any other bodies out here?”

Nick was objecting before he’d finished.
“I can look, if no one has a problem with my shifting to do it.”

More than happy to hand off that job, I nodded when the warlock glanced my way.
“Faster his way. My way might not work.”


All right. If you’ll step over here,” he led Nick off a ways, until a waist-high tangle of grass and weeds partially blocked sight of him, protecting the modesty of the one uniformed female. She looked disappointed.

I smothered a giggle, which faded further on its own, buried under the beginning of a vision.
“Damian!”


Just a min…”


Vision.” I heard him running toward me, and stuck out a hand.

Grabbing it, he asked,
“What do you see?”


The cavern again. Cultists and,” I needed to take a hard swallow. “A whole bunch of demons.”


Geeze, I hate when she does this,” Schumacher muttered.

There was a struggle, two cultists dragging a shrouded figure toward the altar.
“This sacrifice isn’t so willing.”

A couple of other cultists broke rank to help, and the four simply picked up their victim. She struggled, and even got in a few good kicks and
elbowings, but the cultists won. They chained her face up and some of the covering moved enough to show she was dressed in something flowing and dark crimson in color. Another figure entered the cavern, dressed in a red robe with ornate black and gold embroidery. “I think the leader just showed up. Damn it, I can’t see his face. “The shadow cast by his hood was too dark.

He lifted something high, held in both hands.
“He has the book.”


What are they doing with it?” Damian asked.

Cultists moved about, lighting candles and drawing symbols on the base of the rock altar.
“It looks like they’re doing the spell.”

Dread curled inside when the leader picked up a knife and began intoning a chant. This couldn’t have happened yet. Zoe’s shimmer was still shining gold, and she was their sacrifice, wasn’t she? Demons weren’t running loose in the streets either.
“I don’t understand.”

Five cultists arranged themselves around the altar, kneeling with bowls of some sort in their hands. One at each hand and foot, and the last at the head. The leader moved around, making shallow cuts on Zoe’s wrists and the soles of her feet. I felt the sting of each. At another gesture from the leader, the cultist at her head yanked off the material covering her head, and I forgot how to breathe.

“It’s not Zoe.”


Then who is it, Cordi?” Damian asked.

I didn’t answer. Seeing yourself chained, about to be sacrificed, is an interesting, voice-stealing experience.

Watching a knife plunge deep into your chest and rip you wide open? Not so much.

A scream burst from between my lips when the pain blasted through my chest, my body stiffening while everything went black. Convulsions followed, and barely felt hands caught hold, lowering me to the ground.

There was shouting, muffled by my frantic attempts to breathe. My body was full of lava, and there was blood in my mouth, filling my throat.

A tiny spark of light broke the darkness, growing larger to become a small, bent, wrinkled man. Deep brown eyes gazed into mine, lips pursing in disapproval. With weathered, walnut brown skin, he appeared to be Native American. He shook his head, long silver gray hair rustling.
“You’re not following the right path.”


Excuse me?” My voice sounded normal, even though I was choking on my own blood. “Who are you?”


Eh, call me an interested bystander. You’re on a course filled with danger, Discordia Angel Jones.” His lips curved slightly. “Give your mother my compliments on that name. It suits.”


I’m sort of dying here, so I doubt there’ll be a chance to pass that on.” Awareness of what was going on with my body was fading fast. A voice seemed to be whispering to me.


Giving up that easy, are you?” The old man shook his head. “Maybe I’m backing the wrong horse.”

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