Wild Fire, Page 3

  Ari disconnected and told Andreas and Ryan about the Maleficus, the ancient book of demon lore.

  “Accursed,” Andreas said.

  “What?” Ryan frowned at Andreas’s terse remark.

  “Maleficus. It means accursed.”

  Ryan’s frown deepened. “Great. More of this hocus-pocus devil stuff. What was it that you said about bloodlines and Gerhard being all witch? What does that mean?”

  “We were speculating how he had used the spells from the Maleficus. They require demon blood.”

  Andreas refilled his empty wine glass. “Similar to using human and animal blood in sacrificial rites?”

  Ari pursed her lips. “Maybe. I’m not sure. She made it sound like the sorcerer had to be part demon, have demon DNA in his blood.”

  “In your blood or just your body?” Ryan asked. “Maybe he drank it.”

  Ari made a face. “Ew. Blood doesn’t taste good to witches like it does to vampires. Gerhard would have to have a very strong stomach. But again, I don’t know. I guess I have a lot of research to do on the Maleficus and how to break a binding spell.” She handed her wineglass back to Andreas. “I’d better switch to coffee. I’ll make some calls tonight.”

  Andreas seemed encouraged by her interest in getting started, and his expression relaxed. “One pot of coffee coming up.” He stepped toward the door and pulled it open. The club’s security officer stood just outside with his hand poised to knock.

  “Russell, were you looking for me?”

  Russell glanced quickly around the room. “Sorry to interrupt. Just checking to see if you got the message I left.”

  Andreas looked at his desk. A white note lay in the middle. “I hadn’t noticed. Is it important?”

  “Prince Daron called. He’d tried your mobile, but I noticed you’d left it here.”

  Andreas automatically patted his jeans pocket but spotted the phone on the credenza behind his desk. “I left in a hurry. Did he say what he wanted?” Andreas picked up the phone and thumbed through his messages.

  Russell hesitated. Andreas looked up at him from his phone.

  “Only for you to call him back.”

  “All right. I will take care of it. Would you have someone bring a pot of coffee?” Andreas glanced at Ari and Ryan. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll step out and make that call. Let us hope this is not more bad news.”

  Ari frowned as he closed the door behind him. Why was he stepping out? His usual paranoia about discussing vampire business in front of humans like Ryan? Or it was the way Russell had acted. Ill at ease. Cautious. Unless she was the one getting paranoid.

  Ryan shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Convenient how Andreas showed up at the cemetery. I suppose that was the mysterious link you talk about.”

  “Yeah, he can sense my feelings. Why?” She frowned at him.

  “Nothing, just wondered. It must be hard having someone always tuned in to you.” He shrugged. “Not to change the subject, but who actually set the fires? The tracks we followed from City Hall weren’t made by one of those hellsgate guys.”

  “You’re right about that. We were lured into a trap by someone. I still think a halfling demon with hellfire is involved.”

  Ryan scooted forward. “There’s your demon blood. He must have helped Gerhard with the spell. And we should be out looking for him.”

  She gave a weary sigh. “Don’t worry, Ryan. I know I have a job to do, and I’ll try to keep up my end of things.”

  “I’m not worried about that, but I’d hate to see more fires set because we made the wrong assumptions.”

  “Yeah, me too.” She stared at her hands again. How had everything gotten so messed up?

  Ryan was good at picking up cues. “I should be going. Paperwork. And I want to get out a BOLO on Gerhard. At least we have a name and description. If there’s anything I can do for you…”

  “Thanks. Let me if he’s spotted, otherwise, I’ll be in touch tomorrow.”

  He stopped at the door and looked over his shoulder. “You know that gun you brought back from Germany? You should keep it with you 24/7.”

  Ari straightened. She’d forgotten the Walther PPS, a gift from one of the German witches. It wasn’t as good as witch fire, but it had good stopping power, especially loaded with silver bullets. “Thanks for the reminder.”

  He gave her a nod and left.

  While she waited for Andreas, Ari examined the tips of her fingers, almost expecting them to look different. She hadn’t been without her witch fire from the moment of its discovery when she was two years old and throwing a tantrum. A reluctant smile tugged at her mouth as she thought about how difficult it must have been for her parents, trying to reason with a small child who wasn’t yet capable of reason.

  The office door opened, and Andreas’s gaze met hers. “It was not good news.”

  Her stomach clenched. How much worse could it get?

  “What is it?” She shifted to face him as he came to sit beside her. “Just tell me.”

  “The O-Seven has placed a bounty on our heads. Three million each. Tonight won’t be the last attempt to collect.”

  She leaned her head against the back of the couch. “Yeah, OK. So, there’ll be more like the hellsgate warriors. But the reward isn’t what Gerhard wanted. He’s seeking revenge. I delivered him to the Witches League to take his powers away, so he took mine.” She paused to steady her voice. “He wants me to suffer.”

  Andreas took her hands in his. “There is more. Daron has heard that two of the elders are on their way to America.”

  Her heart nearly stopped this time. “Who?”

  “He had only one name. Bastian.”

  “Daron’s sire?” She sat up. “Why him? What does this mean?”

  Andreas shrugged. “Strangely enough, Daron claims the warning of their proposed visit came from Bastian himself, through roundabout channels.”

  “Bastian’s warning us? Then maybe it’s not so bad.”

  Andreas shook his head. “He cast off his own First Son centuries ago and still refuses to acknowledge Daron as a member of his bloodline. If Bastian is coming, it will be for his own benefit, not ours. Don’t forget, his specialty is mind control.”

  Ari shivered. “I remember.” A numbing fear crept through her. Not fear for herself, but for Andreas. How could she attempt to protect him from the O-Seven without her powers?

  Andreas pulled her head against his shoulder. “We can handle this, cara mia. Are you ready to go home? We have much to think about.”

  “Yeah, and I want to get my gun. I might even buy a second one.” She lifted her head to look at his face. “If they want a fight, let’s give it to them.”

  His eyes glittered. “Exactly what I was thinking.”

  * * *

  Within minutes of reaching Andreas’s Victorian mansion—which Ari still wasn’t used to thinking of as hers—she settled before the artificial fire in the study while Andreas started making calls. He spoke again with Prince Daron in Toronto, Canada, and conferred with the vampire princes of several other American cities about the potential arrival of the O-Seven. While the vampires were talking it over, Ari called Emma, the high priestess of her home coven in Perry. It was not a warrior coven, and none of Ari’s witch sisters were fire witches or guardians, but they’d always been there when she needed them.

  “As always. Whatever you need.” Typically, Emma remained calm. “Perhaps we can provide power for a protection shield.”

  “Not against the O-Seven, I won’t let them near you.” Ari was firm, almost brusque. “What I really need is someone who can help me restore my powers. Another fire witch to advise me.”

  “Have you spoken to Moriana?”

  Ari absently rubbed the arm where the mace had left a deep bruise. “She wasn’t home, but she isn’t a fire witch either.”

  “You don’t need a fire witch,” Emma insisted. “You need an expert on demon lore. That’s the only way you can create the right counterspell.”


  Ari frowned at the phone. “So how do I find someone who’s studied the Maleficus?”

  “Try the library.”

  Ari was still asking the same questions an hour later when she had a chance to talk with Moriana. The older witch gave her much the same advice as Emma—find a conjuror or a scholar who had studied the Maleficus. Moriana also reminded Ari there were other elements of magic that she should be working on.

  “Fire is your specialty, but now that you have your Book of Shadows with the proper spells and potions for your family, you should be perfecting the other major magics.”

  Ari drummed her fingers impatiently on the arm of the chair as they disconnected. Hindsight was great, but not particularly helpful. Yes, she should have taken time to work on the other magics, but it hadn’t fit into her hectic life. She sighed loudly and tamped down the frustration that was making her irritable. Convenient or not, she’d have to make the other magics a priority now. Her air, earth, and water powers—and the Walther—were all she had.

  Andreas raised a brow at her heavy sigh. “Tired? There is little more you can do tonight.” He stood and held out a hand to her. “I noticed you rubbing your arm. A massage might help.”

  She rewarded him with the beginnings of a smile. “Is that shorthand for something else?”

  His lips curved, and he pulled her up beside him. “That depends. We can start with a massage, and see where it takes us.”

  * * *

  Since Ari had conquered her phobia of seeing Andreas “die” at dawn, she often stayed in his bed until he fell asleep. But she hadn’t gotten used to sleeping with his immobile figure, so she always moved down the hall to the Chantilly Suite for the rest of the night. Normally falling back to sleep for a couple extra hours was no problem, but this time she lay awake, worrying about everything that had happened that day.

  Even if she had her witch fire, the coming of the O-Seven would be a frightening prospect. The Walther would help against the contract killers, but not the O-Seven. With her fire magic gone and Andreas unable to control his warlock abilities, they were in serious trouble.

  She rolled over restlessly, fluffed her pillows, and sought a more comfortable spot. But the fault wasn’t with the bed or the pillows.

  She bolted upright. Zylla! The old witch-turned-vampire had been around for eight hundred years. In all that time, surely she’d heard something useful about the Maleficus. Ari dropped back against the pillows, a game plan forming in her head. First, a visit to the Magic Council to update her bosses on recent events and see what their researchers and ancient tomes could tell her, then back to the caverns as soon as Zylla was awake.

  Oh, and she needed to help Ryan find the arsonist.

  CHAPTER THREE

  It was late morning before Ari dragged herself out of bed, showered, and dressed. Before she left the house, she called and had a long talk with the wizard who was the president of the Magic Council and her primary boss. Their conversation centered on the loss of her fire power—until she mentioned the potential visit of the O-Seven. The President was alarmed. The elders had fueled the conflict between the witches and vampires of Europe for hundreds of years. America didn’t need the fighting to spread. He would call an emergency meeting of the local council and warn the councils of other North American cities.

  “The O-Seven’s presence will open old wounds.” He paused and seemed to gather his thoughts. “But what about you, Arianna? In the face of this new threat, are you able to continue as Guardian without your fire abilities?”

  “I’m going to find a way to break this binding. If I don’t, or if I fail to do my job, then I’ll resign. I just need a little time.”

  “You have it. All you need. But why don’t I call in Bodie? He could back you up by taking over your routine duties, and if the O-Seven come to Riverdale, we will need all the help we can get.”

  “Good idea.” While she might have resisted the suggestion at one time, Tom Bodie, an earth witch from St. Louis and retired guardian, had stepped in last fall when Ari was away. He was smart, savvy, and had no interest in returning to full-time work. He’d be an asset.

  With council notification out of the way, Ari went to the forensic and research lab to consult with her friend Cillian. The slender, blonde elfgirl’s lab coat was one Ari hadn’t seen before. Orange and green. Cillian believed that bright colors aided creativity.

  “Ari! What brings you among the nerds? Are you in deep do-do again?”

  Her infectious grin brought a rueful smile to Ari’s lips. “And sinking fast. I hope you can throw me a lifeline.”

  Cillian studied her face and sobered. “Seriously? I’ve been involved in an experiment the last two days. Has something happened?”

  Ari filled her in on everything from the series of arsons to her run-in with Gerhard. “I’ve got to get my powers back.”

  “Wow.” Cillian sank down onto her lab stool. “That’s awful. What can I do?”

  “I need anything I can find on binding spells and on the Maleficus. I don’t suppose you have a copy?”

  “I don’t know, but Jacob will. He’s our new librarian and head researcher.”

  “Can you point him out? I want to get started right away. I need my fire magic to deal with the O-Seven.”

  Cillian frowned at her, but Ari merely shrugged. Everyone knew her fire was one of the main reasons she’d survived this long. It was the great equalizer with the vampires, who had no normal defense against it. Her witches’ oath limited its use to self defense, but the vampire elders were a different threat entirely, a simple matter of survival. She wouldn’t hesitate to incinerate them all…if she ever got the opportunity.

  “Come with me, and I’ll introduce you to Jacob. I think you’ll like him.” The elf led her to the far corner of the huge lab where the walls were filled with books on magic and alchemy. “There he is.” She pointed.

  Ari’s eyes narrowed, and she came to a halt. “How long did you say he’s been here?” She scrutinized the man placing a stack of books on a cart. Reddish spiky hair, ruddy complexion. Jacob was your typical, everyday halfling demon. “Does he have fire ability?”

  “What? No. At least I don’t think so. You don’t…” Cillian glanced at him again. “No, Jacob’s not your firebug. He’s been here five months, and he’s not the least bit anti-social.”

  “I don’t like coincidences,” Ari muttered.

  “But they do happen.” Cillian plucked at Ari’s sleeve to get her to look at her. “Give him a chance. You’ll see.”

  Cillian said his name, and the halfling turned toward them. A smile creased his face as he approached.

  His eyes widened at Ari’s scowl, but he stuck out his hand. “I know who this is. I’ve heard a lot about you, guardian. You were acquainted with my cousin Maleban.”

  Ari stiffened. She’d fought beside Maleban two years ago when he died during a fight with rogue werewolves, but more important at the moment, he’d been a fire breather. She forced herself to remain casual. “Yes, I did. Do you share his affinity for fire?”

  “Naw, he was the fire-eater in our family. Pretty cool. All the cousins smoked as kids, and Mal used to light our cigs.” The corners of his eyes crinkled at the memory. “But you’re not here about Maleban. What can I do for you?”

  Ari wasn’t convinced she should trust him. She needed to do a background check on him, but she also needed information, badly enough that she was willing to take a chance on tipping her hand to the enemy. “Are you familiar with a book called the Maleficus?”

  His face lit up. “I love it when someone asks about the old books. We don’t own a Latin copy, but we have a partial translation.” He pushed a ladder on wheels along the wall that was filled with books from floor to ceiling. Many of them were loosely bound volumes of ragged, yellowed pages, and as they drew closer, Ari picked up the familiar musty smell of old leather. Jacob finally stopped, climbed about midway, and tapped his fingers gently along the spines until he found t
he one he wanted. He pulled out a black book and tucked it under his arm before climbing down.

  “Careful. It’s our only copy.” He handed the book to Ari. It felt smooth to the touch, almost slick, although she sensed it was very old.

  “It’s been covered with a preservative potion,” he explained, watching her face. “The Maleficus is much older, but even this translation has been around for centuries.”

  Ari opened the pages. Although it had been translated, the language was still unusual, almost unreadable by modern standards. “Where can I find a Latin copy? I need to know the words of an ancient spell in the original Latin text.”

  Jacob tapped his chin. “Perhaps in older libraries, like in Europe. Would you want me to do some checking?”

  “That would be great. Thank you.” The librarian acted sincere, as if he genuinely wanted to help her. And maybe he did. “May I borrow this?”

  “Remove it from the library? I’m afraid not.” Mild shock registered on his face. “Not something this rare.”

  “Well, I guess I can read it here.”

  “Wonderful.” His expression lightened. He pointed to a nearby table, scooped up a handful of paper strips, and offered them to her. “Mark any pages of particular interest, and we can copy them.”

  “I’m going to leave you to it,” Cillian said. “You know where to find me. If you’re still here at noon, let’s do lunch.” She waved at someone and hurried away. Ari took her book to the library table.

  “While you’re busy reading, I’ll reach out to my contacts and try to locate a copy in Latin.” Jacob returned to his desk.

  Ari watched him for a moment. Cillian was right. She kind of liked the guy, but it was an odd coincidence.

  As she’d suspected, the translation was useless. After a painstaking hour of deciphering the words, Ari closed the book. Not one mention of spells that could bind or restore powers. She’d read a lot about deadly curses and soul stealing, enough to give her goose bumps, but nothing pointed her toward an answer to her current dilemma. When she returned the book to Jacob, he told her he had a lead on a Latin copy and promised to keep searching.