Arcane Solutions (Discord Jones) Page 20

  “I didn’t…”

  “Shut up. Logan’s right, we’re here for a reason. The demons that took Kate down might still be there. You,” I’d stalked close enough to jab a finger in the elf’s chest. “Are going to help us.”

  “Of course.” Thorandryll straightened, trying to regain his composure. I bet no one had ever kneed him in the family jewels before, and was damn proud to have been the first. “Give me just a minute to arm myself, Miss Jones.”

  “I was thinking more of you being a distraction. Like dinner.”

  Logan touched my shoulder. “Discord.”

  “Oh, all right. Go get your sword, or bow, or whatever.” Waving the elf off, I turned to face the shifter. “I was joking.”

  He grinned. “Sure you were.”

  ***

  Standing on the lawn, I surveyed Thorandryll and the milling pack of hounds. “I can’t teleport everyone, and if they turn on Logan, I’ll be using something sharper than my knee next time.”

  The elf flinched. “They won’t, Miss Jones. Handle the transport of yourself and those two. The other hounds will follow Leglin, and I will travel with them.”

  “Fine.” I hoped my teleportation ability didn’t malfunction a second time while grabbing hold of both shifter and hound. “Take two.”

  Chilly night air caressed my face, and Kate’s car waited in vain, the lone occupant of a smallish parking lot. “The Velvet Razor. There’s a name for a Goth club.”

  Thorandryll and his hounds appeared. Logan held me back when I took a step toward the club’s entrance. “Let him go first.”

  “But…”

  “But, nothing. I smell death.” He refused to release my hand. Hounds ran into the club, Thorandryll shooting us an arrogant look before following after them.

  Leglin was the only one who stayed, his eyes focused on the entrance. I slung my purse strap over one shoulder and my head, digging out the dagger before zipping it shut and pushing it toward my back.

  Danger oozed from every shadow. Logan let go, hefting the sword and taking a few steps forward. Leglin growled, his hackles rising. Thorandryll’s yell, and the sudden tumult of snarling hounds, jolted me into motion.

  Avoiding Logan’s grasp, I skidded to a halt as a demon popped into existence directly in my path. The dagger caught it in the stomach.

  Leglin rushed by, lunging into another one. I spun around, teleporting away from the demon behind me and buried the dagger between its ragged, green-tinged black wings.

  Logan was swinging the sword as if he knew how to use it. A scaly arm went flying, the sword keening something vicious and eager. The fight inside the club spilled out, and things become too confusing to keep close track of.

  It didn’t take long for my head to start pounding with the teleporting and use of TK to toss demons away. Claws cut through the sleeve of my jacket, leaving bleeding furrows in my left forearm. Leglin jumped that one, and was back instantly with two more hounds. They circled, holding the demons back and creating a path through the mess toward Logan.

  I went down practically at his feet, and swiped at scaly legs while the sword whistled overhead. The dagger didn’t make any sound, just glowed brighter red with each trip through demon flesh.

  A really large, dusky black demon flew through the air, landing on Kate’s car. The hood dented under one cloven hoof, the windshield cracking under the other. I hoped her insurance had a trashed–by-demon clause. “Leglin, sic that sucker!”

  The hound raced off, but Logan grunted and blood splattered down. Grabbing hold of his leg, I looked up to see how badly he was hurt, and the green shield suddenly appeared around us. A demon ran into it, striking with a thud and bouncing off. “Logan?”

  He was panting. Dropping to one knee, he planted the sword’s tip on asphalt and grinned. “Already healing. How are you holding up?”

  “I’d kill for my bed and two days’ sleep.” Not to mention a shot of something that would kill the pain in my head. My brain was screaming in protest. “Not sure how long I can hold this shield thing.”

  “You’re bleeding.” His fingers hovered over the dark, wet rents in my jacket sleeve.

  “Yeah, that’s not helping.” I spotted Leglin’s return. The hound tore into another demon, chunks flying and hitting the shield. “Ugh. Can you see Thorandryll?”

  “He’s fine. Looks like he’s enjoying himself.”

  Thunder lanced from temple to temple, and I dropped the dagger to grab my head. “Ahh!”

  “Discord?” The shifter touched my hair.

  “I’m about out of juice.” Gray seeped into my vision, and I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping to remain conscious.

  “All right.” Logan rose, swinging a leg over mine so that he stood over me. “Just trust me and the hounds.”

  Like I had a choice, as agony smothered me. The shield faded, and the sword began keening again, its song cutting my eardrums to shreds. I stayed put, eyes closed, and my hands sliding over my ears to try to muffle the noise. I did trust him. Something about Logan inspired trust.

  Silence dropped a sudden blanket. Cracking my eyes open, I asked, “What happened?”

  Logan knelt, straddling my legs, and laid the sword down. “I don’t know. They just left. Let me see your arm.”

  He shucked out of his t-shirt after helping take my jacket off. My head was full of thunder, multi-colored sparkles shooting across my vision. Hounds milled around us, sniffing the demon grit left behind.

  Thorandryll walked up while Logan was wrapping his tee around my arm. “Rather rousing skirmish.”

  “Did you find a girl in there?”

  A trail of pink glimmered, hiding the elf’s face. “There are several bodies inside.”

  Crap didn’t quite cover the situation. “Damn it all to hell.”

  ***

  Logan overrode my protests, accepting the elf’s offer of his healer and home. The healer turned out to be Mr. Nosy who’d assumed I was the new flavor of the moment.

  “Aren’t you the little warrior?” Alleryn asked while surveying me after Thorandryll left to return to the scene. He’d promised to handle things, calling the cops and speaking with them. I wondered how much lying he planned to do, while Alleryn continued rattling. “You’re filthy, so it’s the bath for you before I can tend to your wounds.” He peeled the bloody tee up to peek at my arm. “Where all do you hurt?”

  Logan answered. He was holding me up with an arm around my waist. “Her head. Mind. Whichever. She said she was tapped out and in pain.”

  My stomach chose that moment to punctuate the statement by heaving. I almost passed out, bending over to vomit all over Thorandryll’s marble floor.

  “Lovely. In here.”

  The shifter didn’t move. “That’s your prince’s room.”

  Alleryn snorted. “She’s his lover, so is allowed inside. Move it, kitty, so that I can tend to your mistress.”

  “My name is Logan.” The shifter’s voice was a silky growl. I managed to open my eyes and focus on the elf.

  “Yeah, use it, or I’ll throw up on you next time. He’s not a pet.”

  Alleryn rolled his eyes. “As you wish. Inside.”

  I balked at either helping me undress or giving me a bath, so Logan removed my boots before settling me at the edge of an enormous tub. “Thanks.”

  “Yell if you need help. Don’t pass out and drown, Discord.” He touched my cheek, glancing at the doorway. Voice lowered, he asked, “Why does he think you and Thorandryll…”

  “Cover story.”

  “Oh, right.” Standing up, he smiled and left me to it.

  I somehow managed to undress, slip into warm water, and attempt to scrub myself. The tub didn’t have a faucet, but two tiny slits at either end. Warm water poured from one, and the cloud of demon grit, stained pink with blood, flowed into the other to disappear.

  Elven plumbing was pretty nifty.

  Crawling out of the tub, I sat on a thick bathmat and slowly dried off. It took a fe
w minutes of looking before I realized my clothing was gone, and that a sleeveless white nightgown had replaced it. No one had come in, unless he or she was invisible and silent. After putting it on, I levered myself to my feet and used the wall as support. The door stymied me. “Hello?”

  “I’m here. What do you need?” Logan sounded anxious.

  “Help getting out of here. Can you open the door for me?”

  He did, and carefully picked me up. A moment later, he was tucking me into the bed that dominated the outer room. “The elf left this for you to drink.”

  I eyed the golden goblet he showed me. “What’s in it?”

  “Wine with herbs for pain. They’re safe, Discord. I watched him mix it up.”

  “Okay.” I drank it down with his assistance. “Where’s Leglin?”

  “He had some wounds. The healer decided to stitch them while you cleaned up.”

  The doctored wine left a bitter aftertaste, but worked quickly. Cotton seemed to insulate my mind, cushioning it against reality. “He can’t heal like you do?”

  “Not as fast. He’ll be fine within a day or less.”

  “You’re dirty too. Why don’t you take a bath?”

  Logan collected a chair, settling beside the bed. “I’m not leaving you alone here. I told that elf that I’m your bodyguard, when he made noises about moving me down the hall to a guest room.”

  Realizing I was actually in Thorandryll’s bed, gratitude spilled over. “Good, thank you. Yeah, I don’t want to be alone with either of them.”

  “You won’t be.” He patted the chair’s arm. “I’ll stay right here until you wake up, Discord.”

  “You can’t,” My eyes drifted shut, and it took effort to open them again. “Sleep in a chair.”

  “Don’t worry about me. Get some rest. That girl is counting on you.”

  “Right.” When my eyes shut, I left them that way. More cotton muffling, but sleep was in the mood for a slow dance. I was vaguely aware of voices, and someone messing with my arm.

  The bed gave, something warm and wet sliding over my cheek. Fur brushed my arm as a large body settled beside me. My hound had returned. More voices then a quiet click. After a little bit, someone lay down on my other side, and a hand slipped over mine.

  My smile grew just before sleep ended its teasing dance.

  Twenty-six

  Soft, silvery light shone through the windows when my eyes opened. I stood beside the massive bed.

  Thorandryll lay on his back, asleep with an arm around the dark-haired woman cuddled to his side. Peering at what I could see of her face, I knew she was the one from the vision I’d had when I’d first handled the red silk.

  Climbing onto the bed for a better look, I froze when the elf moved. His free hand slid up the arm she’d rested upon his chest. Eyes opening, he stroked hair from her face and laid a kiss on her forehead.

  A chill shivered through me. She was the woman whose body we’d found earlier. The sacrifice.

  I’ll be damned, Thorandryll had been led around by his gonads. No wonder he wanted discretion.

  My curiosity flared, watching her tilt her head back and smile. Why had she volunteered for such a horrible death? Thorandryll was a prick, sure, but I wouldn’t trade him for a demon.

  Without thinking it through, I reached over Thorandryll and touched her shoulder. My hand went through it, and silvery red light blazed, obliterating the scene.

  A few blinks, and the soft moonlight returned. Same room, only now, I was in the bed with the elf spooned against my back. His hand slipped from my stomach to my breasts, and forged a warm trail upwards to settle his fingertips against my jaw. Head turning at his gentle urging, I received a kiss on the corner of my lips.

  The resulting tingles made every little hair on my arms stand at attention.

  No, not my arms. I was definitely in her place, from the strands of black hair visible from the corner of my eye.

  Pure terror sank claws deep into my soul. The only other time I’d found myself taking someone’s place in a vision, I’d lived through hours of torture. Watched and suffered as a straight razor sliced skin away in thin strips. This one might not be a painful experience now, but I didn’t trust the vision not to time-warp, and drop me right into the middle of being sacrificed on that stone altar.

  While I tried to no avail to wake up or break the vision, it continued. Thorandryll shifted to recline, moving me onto my back. Her back. Whatever.

  He murmured something and began kissing my neck.

  Head tilting, eyes half closed, a movement caught my attention. Thomas Merricott, AKA Dead Fake Elf Guy, stood just outside one window.

  Fingers in Thorandryll’s hair, which was as soft as I’d imagined, my eyes opened wide. Merricott held up the grimoire, the concealment spell a thin, black line around his left wrist.

  I felt a smile grow on my face. I mean, her face. Mission accomplished.

  With a nod, Merricott disappeared from sight, and all of my –her!- attention returned to the elf. I suppose she couldn’t just get up and leave with an “It’s been fun, see you around”.

  Thorandryll proved no slouch when it came to foreplay, and seemed more than happy to draw it out as long as possible. Trapped, I was along for the ride.

  Not the most painful vision I’d ever had. He kissed me and I noticed that he didn’t taste like I remembered.

  No sunshine or spring breezes. Instead, he tasted of copper-flavored pine, laced with something both sweet and faintly nutty.

  The vision flickered as I buried my hands in his hair. It didn’t feel as soft as before, and I was relatively certain that elves didn’t purr.

  “I don’t allow animals in my bed, Miss Jones.” That icy statement broke the vision to a thousand pieces, leaving me staring into a pair of wide, clear green, gold-flecked eyes.

  Logan’s purr cut off as though a switch flipped, dark green flooding over the pale. “The hell?”

  My response was utterly brilliant. “Ah…”

  “You are taking far too much advantage of my hospitality.” Thorandryll had reached the side of the bed. “I believe it’s time…”

  Logan slid off me and sat up. I followed suit, mouth already running to put the awkward situation behind us. “What was her name? The woman you were seeing? She had black hair.”

  The elf’s angry expression became one of confusion. “Why do you need that information?”

  “Oh, come on. She took you for a ride. Distracted you with sex while the dead guy stole your damn book.” I barely paused for breath. “Another lie. You said you had no idea who took it.”

  Logan had made the edge of the bed by then. Looking over his shoulder at Thorandryll while settling the sword across his lap, he chuckled. “Thanks for the loan of your bed. It was an illuminating experience.”

  Thorandryll flinched and took a step backwards before gritting out, “Carole Bronson.”

  Offering a hand to Logan and grabbing Leglin’s collar, I said, “She’s dead.”

  The elf’s eyes widened, but I missed anything else by teleporting us back to my place. My bedroom, to be exact. Logan frowned, quickly standing up. “You didn’t give me time to grab my boots.”

  “Damn. I forgot my purse too.” Waving that aside, I said, “Okay, the first thing we need to do…”

  Logan interrupted me. “Is take showers. I’ve got a change of clothes in my truck.”

  “We don’t have time for…”

  He cut in again. “Do you care about Nick, Discord? He’s going to be really unhappy when he smells my scent on you.”

  “Oh.” Yeah, personal problems that could be avoided should be, especially right now. I needed to be somewhere. “Okay. You go first, while I make coffee and get online. I need to find her address.”

  The shifter nodded. “I have to run out to my truck.”

  ***

  He was out of the shower by the time I’d figured out which of three Carol Bronsons listed in the Santo Trueno phone book was the ri
ght one, and had written down the address. “Hey, coffee’s ready.”

  “Do you want a cup?”

  “Please.” I reached for my purse, only to remember. “Damn it. Do you have your phone?”

  Logan deposited a cup on the table. “No, it’s sitting on the elf’s dresser, right next to your purse.”

  “Crap.” I wasn’t quite able to meet his eyes. “I should go back and get our stuff.”

  “I would like to have my boots,” he agreed, glancing down at the brand new-looking running shoes he had on. “These don’t feel like mine yet.”

  “Okay, let me take a shower. I want to return this.” I plucked at the lace edging the square neckline of the gown. “Um, I guess the vision stuff is changing. I’m sorry you were dragged in like that.”

  His coffee cup seemed to become immensely fascinating when I finally managed to look up. Logan stared into it. “No harm done. It might be better if we didn’t tell Nick about it though.”

  I winced. “He’ll go ballistic, huh?”

  “Probably.”

  “Okay. Wait. Thorandryll might open his big mouth. That would be worse.”

  Logan frowned. “True. Awkward situation.”

  “Tell me about it.” I hesitated before I took a drink of coffee, because I could still taste him, sweet and weirdly familiar. The coffee washed it away.

  “I’m not seeing anyone, so I don’t know if Nick will believe nothing really happened.”

  “Why would whether you’re seeing someone or not have anything to do with it?”

  “Because he’s a wolf, and I’m a tiger.”

  I had to put a hand over my mouth to control the urge to laugh. Voice muffled, I said, “This is a dog and cat thing? Really?”

  “It sounds dumb, I know, but yeah, it’s a cat and dog thing, and a territorial thing.”

  “Okay, I’m not anyone’s ‘territory’.” Rising from my seat, I had another swallow of coffee before setting the cup down. “Nick can either believe the truth, or not. If he doesn’t, that means he doesn’t trust me.”