Ash (The Elemental Series, Book 6) (19 page)

“American right? I thought so with the money.” the woman asked, speaking clear, if heavily accented, English.

I turned and faced her. “You could say that.”

“All these Americans lately. You a scientist like the others?” Her eyes glittered with barely disguised greed. I went along with the story.

“Yes, I am a companion of theirs. But I would like to find out what the locals are saying about the earthquakes that are happening. Do you have old . . . stories that might explain them?” What I’d learned in my travels in the human world was that there was always a connection between the humans’ stories and the world of magic. Often they didn’t even realize what it was they saw, but they still explained it quite well. Usually, anyway.

She grinned at me, showing a p
e
rfect set of white teeth. “What is it worth to you?”

“Another fifty,” I bargained, knowing it was expected of me.

“No, what is it worth to you?” She slid a hand over my shoulder and down my arm, making it perfectly clear what she wanted.

“Not that.” I shut the door, which pushed her out. The last thing I saw was her eyes widen and then narrow rapidly.

She rapped a knuckle on it. “For seventy-five we will just talk.”

I waited a moment and then she buckled. “Fine, fifty then. Just talking.”

I opened the door. She wasn’t unattractive, with her long cascading hair and sensuous body. But not only was she a human, which in and of itself was considered taboo. Not to mention I didn’t have eyes for anyone who wasn’t Lark. I’d waited my whole life to truly find the one I was meant for. There was no way I would ruin that relationship with some ridiculous fling, no matter how curvy the body was.

She beckoned with a hand toward the front of the building. I looked back at Norm, who was already passed out on the bed, snoring deeply despite only lying down moments before. I wondered if it was something to do with his head injury.

I followed the woman to the front of the building to a table and set of chairs.

“Come, have a drink. A little spice to add to a boring conversation.” She poured me a shot of something that was so heavy with alcohol I could smell it across the room. I took the cup anyway and threw it back, forcing myself not to gasp as the burn lit up my throat and belly. Rotgut . . . the word came to mind rather suddenly and I knew that this was what that was. Didn’t matter what she called it, I could feel it eating away at my belly already.

“Tell me about the earthquakes,” I said. “What are the locals saying is causing them?”

She smiled and winked at me, her eyes bright. “You are smarter than the other scientists, I think. They believe they will find a new fault line, I heard them talking. But that is not the source of the rumblings.” She poured herself a glass and sipped at it slowly, cupping it between her hands and staring into it like the answers she sought were hidden at the bottom.

“Tell me,” I repeated.

A sigh slid from her. “There is a mountain range not far from here, one that is haunted. It has been haunted for years, and that is what the scientists do not understand. That the ghosts of the past clamor to be heard. They want us to free them from their torture,” she whispered, and a tear gathered in the corner of one eye. She dashed it away. “There is nothing we can do, not that I know of. But it is there that the witches dance, drawing on the power of the dead, and that is the cause of the rumblings of the earth.”

Now we were getting somewhere. “Witches? You believe in witches?”

Her eyes were deadly serious. “You do not?”

I wasn’t about to tell her that yes, indeed, I believed in witches. The last thing I needed was for her to get further into my world. “What else do you know about these witches?”

She swirled her glass and then downed the entire thing. “That they are not good witches. They will cause the ground to shake in their anger for being cast out. They seek vengeance, justice for wrongs done to them.”

I blinked several times. “What do you mean?”

With a roll of her eyes
,
she poured herself another drink. I put my hand over mine, stopping her from giving me more.

“What I mean is that when a child comes of age to follow their bloodlines into the craft, the family casts them out. That is the tradition. And they are raised by the other witches and trained in the darkest of arts. That is why they hate. Because they learn it from one generation to the next. There is a saying that there will be a final witch from this land that will stop the hate. But I do not see it happening.” She shook her head sadly as if the weight of the world was on her.

“I want you to draw me a map of the mountains, and where you leave the children to the witches,” I said.

Cassava would love that, to raise witches, teaching them and training them to be her own Enders. Seeing as how witches were descendants from elementals long, long ago, I could see it now, as easily as if Cassava spoke the words in front of me. A question popped out of me before I could think better of it. “When was the last child given up?”

“Ahh, that one. Six or seven years ago. And she was barely ten, an early bloomer by all accounts. Usually they have had their first moon cycle before the magic flows.” Her words were soft, and she spoke with a little more authority than I thought was warranted for a human.

She leaned across the table, giving me an ample glimpse of her cleavage. And the necklaces that hung there. One of them was a five
-
pointed star, the mark of a witch in many circles. I reached out and grabbed it, tugging her closer across the table. “Are you one of them?”

A slow, sultry laugh rolled through her and her body, face, clothes and hair shimmered. She went from a pretty woman to an absolutely stunning one. She stood and smiled down at me, then slowly frowned. “What are you? I cannot pin you as a supernatural, yet you are not human either or the drink would have downed you.”

I leaned back in my chair, thinking fast. I didn’t have many options but to try and get her to believe me. “I seek a supernatural, one who has committed many crimes and many deaths. I believe she may be hiding here, in your mountains.”

“A witch?” There was a dangerous glimmer in her eyes and her fingers twitched as though she were prepping a spell.

“No. An elemental.”

That stopped her. “They are myths, they do not exist.”

It was my turn to smile. “Then you will have no problem with me seeking out the myth in your mountains?”

Her eyes narrowed. “No. You may not.”

I nodded, turned my cup upside down on the table, and stood. “Goodnight to you then. We will be gone by morning.”

It took all I had to turn my back on her and walk away. My skin fairly itched knowing she could blast me and I would not see it coming. The problem was I had no choice, I didn’t want her to know what I planned.

I slipped into the bedroom given to us and lay on the floor. I knew the witch would come after me. I felt it in my bones that she was not done with me. But I was not here for her. I was here for Cassava.

And I was
sure
she was hiding out with the witches in the mountains. The parallels were only too clear to me. Now, it was only a matter of figuring out just how to corner her, without her new friends catching on to me. I lay there, counting the minutes as I waited for the brothel to settle down. The sounds of lovemaking brought thoughts of Larkspur rolling through me, of our time together.

My eyes drifted shut, and it was only at the edge of sleep that I realized I’d been a fool. I should have stayed awake. Should have fought harder. But . . . a heavy fog slid over me.

Voices back and forth, that was all I could hear, and I could not open my eyes.

“Ahh, he is lovely. He’d make a nice breeder, don’t you think?”

“Mala, I agree. But I think he is more than just a human. There is something about him, and he spoke of elementals as if they were real. He travels with a Yeti. I knew he was special the moment I saw him.”

“It could be he is mad.”

“True.” A hand slid down my chest and cupped my manhood, stroking sure and hard. I groaned, trying to wake up as they set to arousing me.

“What about the other one?”

“The Yeti was caught in the sleep spell as soon as he laid on the bed.”

There was a tug on my waistband, the sound of my buckle being undone. No, this was not happening to me. Not again.

called the power of the earth to me, and strength shot through me, shattering the spell on my mind. I bolted upright and slammed a fist into a woman’s jaw, snapping her head back. The other squealed and scrambled to get away even as she called up a spell. I was on top of her, pinning her belly to the ground so she could not see me. With quick, efficient movements I got her hands behind her and wrapped them tightly with a strip from the bottom of her skirt. With her hands bound, her ability to use a spell fairly disappeared.

“Are you going to kill me?” she whispered. This had to be Mala.

“Perhaps, Mala. Or maybe not, if you help me.” I tipped her so she could see my face, and I hers. Her green eyes were wide and I saw in her the flicker of power that was in every witch. The strength and connection to the elements that spoke of their past convergence to the four families.

She swallowed hard and nodded, which sent a cascade of red hair over her eyes. “I will answer all your questions.”

I left her there and turned to the other. “What is your friend
’
s name?”

“Yasmine.”

“Well, Yasmine, you’re about to see what it’s like to be in your own sleep spell.” I grabbed Norm and dragged him off the bed with a thump, then took Yasmine by the arm and yanked her up onto the bed. A part of me wanted to strip her down and let the Yeti have a go at her. I shook my head. No, that wasn’t me. No matter what, that wasn’t me. I did up my pants and pulled my cloak on as Norm stirred at my feet.

“Friend, I have to tell you something,” he muttered. “I’d really like to find a lady Yeti, right now.”

My lips twitched and I shook my head. “It’s a spell, so another time maybe.” He groaned and sat up, evidence of his feelings plain to see. I looked away. Wasn’t his fault, any more than it was mine, other than I was a fool getting us caught in the witch trap.

I caught Mala up under her one arm and pulled her to her feet. She was light, as though her bones were hollow. That made me wary. Some witches could shift shape, again a throwback to the time that they came from the elemental bloodlines. “What shape can you take?”