Crest (Ondine Quartet Book 3) (2 page)

We paused in front of the first entrance. A dingy, lopsided "Women" sign hung on the stained door.

He lifted three fingers.

Sweat coated my palms.

Two.

Metallic taste of adrenaline flooded my tongue.

One.

He kicked open the door and I entered first.

Air shifted, magic lashing against my skin.

I ducked just in time.

The toilet lid flew out of a grungy stall, through the space my head occupied a moment ago, straight into Edmundo's chest.

He grunted. Body smashed against the tiled wall to my left.

Renee stood beside the sink with hands on her hips, wearing a look of profound satisfaction.

Kinetics were such show-offs.

Edmundo recovered fast. He pounced, leg whipping out in a vicious attack. Impact sent Julian toppling back into the stall.

Balanced, precise movements revealed training and technique. He evaded my punch and countered with a swift, reverse roundhouse that missed my chest by a millimeter.

Raised fists gave me an opening. Dagger slashed above the rib cage, just under his arm.

I pivoted, angling the blade toward his neck.

Anticipating the move, his hand shot out, grabbed my forearm, and blocked the strike.

A sharp crack resounded. Large curved metal shot through the air and crashed into his wrist.

Edmundo flinched. Fingers tightened and yanked me forward.

Body slammed into the ground, right knee taking the brunt of the fall.

"Sorry," Renee called out cheerfully. "I was aiming for his shoulder."

Beneath the sink, water gushed from a hole in the wall left by the pipe.

"Not. Helping," I said through my teeth.

Feet slid, knee screamed in protest. I grabbed the sink and pulled myself up.

Edmundo lunged, tackling me back down. Shards of pain ricocheted up my spine.

Iron hands gripped my arms, keeping the dagger away from his body.

"Need a little help, sweet iris?" Julian said.

I strained against Edmundo's weight. "Shut up and watch the door."

The last thing we needed was a bystander walking into this mess.

Water soaked my clothes and sloshed over my face. My back couldn't gain traction against the slippery floor.
 

With an oomph, I lifted him enough to free my right leg. I kneed him in the groin and flipped him over.

Dagger pressed tight against his neck.

Blade pricked skin and a thin line of black blood oozed out.

"Tell me who you report to."

Edmundo let out a harsh breath. "Network's too deep —"

Arm weight increased. Pain flashed across his face.
 

"How do we find your Lieutenant?"

Hatred blazed in creepy eyes the color of washed out asphalt.

"The Shadow's two moves ahead. Everywhere and nowhere. You'll never win."

Yeah, yeah.
"You telling me or not?"

"Fuc —"

Blade pierced his Origin and blood spurted over my hand. Wincing at the throbbing pain in my knee, I pushed off him and stood.

I cleaned the blade with the edge of my shirt. "You're welcome."

Renee cocked her head. "For what?"

"For saving your ass."

"Who said it needed saving?"

"What's your problem?"

I leaned toward her. She was a few inches taller so I had to look up.

Water dripped into my eyes. Damn it.

She examined her nails. "Get out of my face."

"You jumped early." At least the bite in my tone made up for the height difference. "You put everyone at risk."

Her nose wrinkled in distaste. "I saw an opportunity and took it."

"You two are giving me all sorts of new fantasies."

Julian's amused voice temporarily broke the tension, but it didn't ease my irritation. I was tired of cleaning up after Renee. This was the third time her actions placed others in danger.

Aubrey and Ian had hacked into Edmundo's computer and obtained info on tonight's meeting. After tracking Armand, we'd set up this operation.

Two weeks of surveillance and planning just went down the drain.

This isn't over.

She winked.
Anytime.

The sound of pounding feet preceded Oriel's arrival. Golden skin appeared unnaturally pale under the fluorescent lights.

Sharp mocha eyes flickered over the water covering the floor, broken toilet stall, hole in the wall, discarded toilet lid, metal pipe, and splotches of black blood floating around the corpse.

She took it pretty well.

"Is everyone okay?"

"Fine." Julian crouched and examined Edmundo. "But we didn't get the info we were looking for."

"I wouldn't have had to kill him if a certain someone stuck with the plan," I pointed out.

Renee sauntered over to the body. "I wasn't the one who staked him."

I shot daggers at her back and Julian quickly changed the subject. "What do you think, Ori? Robbery gone bad? Gang fight?"

She shook her head. "Better if we set it up as an OD. More believable with the amount of drugs running through this place."

While she and Julian discussed details, Renee lifted Edmundo's left arm and studied his wrist. Her finger dabbed at a small spot of color smudged along the edge of his shirt cuff.

Curious, I moved closer. "What is it?"

"Oil paint." She rubbed the dark violet color between her fingers. Slightly wet and sticky. "I think I recognize the brand, Old France. Just used it for a painting a few weeks ago. High pigment, not too much filler. Expensive, very distinctive."

"Not something he could easily come into contact with."

She nodded. "This is very fine grade. Few places carry it in the city. In Manhattan, you can only get it at two supply stores."

That narrowed the field of possibilities. Tracking down recent sales of the product might lead us to whatever activities Edmundo was involved with. Maybe even to the Lieutenant.

As an investment banker, Edmundo was as far removed from the art scene as you could get. Three weeks ago, we'd also spotted Barry, the first Aquidae we tracked, at the Metropolitan Museum.

What were violent demons doing with art?

Oriel got off the phone. "You need to go. My team's coming in."

She'd handle the paperwork to cover our tracks and Robert, another human in the city morgue, would make sure no one looked twice at the body.

Renee left to handle a few phone calls. Julian looked more tired than usual.

He once explained that using Projection on someone was like tossing a fishing net into the ocean. The caster remained connected to the other person and expended a minimum amount of energy.

But doing it across multiple people at the same time required a more complex and draining form of concentration.

Virtue did a quick sweep through the club and a few blocks outside.

"You can drop the glamour. Can't sense any more of them."
 

Magic carefully peeled off and I breathed a small sigh of relief. Empath recognized Projection as its counterpart, but didn't like being covered by it.

Another surge of energy raced around the bathroom and white light shimmered over the scene.

Black blood disappeared as if an eraser swiped over it.

Edmundo's corpse was now a painfully thin girl with stringy pale blonde hair and a row of track marks up her arms.

After Oriel reassured us everything was under control, we left. Julian languidly stretched his arms above his head.

Adrenaline from the fight receded, leaving behind an aching, bruised body and a simmering temper.

Don't lose it.

We headed for the main floor, each step firing pain up my thigh.

Knee was shot. I'd have to see a Healer again.

Music smashed into us, the bass rattling our bones. We navigated through the crush of sweaty bodies and took a side door out to Fourth Avenue.

"So that didn't quite turn out as planned," he said easily.

Patience snapped. "I blame you."

"I thought you were giving me looks of love."

"More like pain. If you hadn't brought her in —"

"You're the one who said we needed more help."

I shot him an incredulous look. "And your first choice was Miss Can't-Follow-A-Plan?"

Renee waited for us on the corner. "Sidekick giving you a problem, Julian?"

I narrowed my eyes. She was treading on thin ice.

He laughed, the rich, warm sound pleasantly vibrating through me."Tonight was fun."

I limped a few feet down the street and edged between two parked cars.

"Where are you going?"

"It's called walking away, LeVeq." I craned my neck, searching for an open cab. "Before your friend ends up on the ground in three pieces."

"Not if I yank the dagger out of your hand first," Renee said sweetly. "And you seem to be directionally challenged. My car is this way —"

"No."

On our way to the club, she'd gotten into a pissing match with someone who cut her off on the West Side Highway. At one point, she'd impatiently squeezed between two lanes on Tenth Avenue.

I could actually read what the passenger texted in the cab beside us.

"Why not?"

"Because you drive like a lunatic!"

"Oh, please. This coming from —"

"Julian?"

The grating, nasal voice reminded me of quacking ducks.

A willowy woman with short dark hair and bright red lips emerged from the bar next to the club. High cheekbones, doe eyes, and an elegant bone structure completed the striking impression.

She sashayed toward us, a delicate hand placed over her heart in a feminine display of surprise. Gaudy scarlet nails looked like claws against her ivory coat.

Absorbing the jarring disconnect between voice and appearance took a moment.

"Leila." Did he pale a little? "How are you?"

Svelte arms wrapped around his neck. She gave an excited squeal that sounded like baying geese.

Everybody winced.

"You were in town and you didn't call me?"
 

"I just arrived and I've been busy with —"

"Busy?" She glared at Renee and me. Eyes lingered on my flat, sopping hair and soaked clothes. "With them?"

He hastily soothed her and for a moment, I considered reassuring duck woman we posed no threat.

But my knee throbbed in time with her voice and I remembered who'd brought Renee tonight.

Let him suffer in his own bed.

Without a backward glance, I raised my hand to stop a cab and climbed in.

"Seventy-Seventh and —"

Renee slid in beside me and shut the door. "Move over."

"Get out."

"Seventy-Seventh between Broadway and Amsterdam," Renee told the driver. "Julian has the car keys. Figured he could use it more than me."

I leaned back and shut my eyes. Maybe if I counted to ten she'd disappear.

"I'm surprised you didn't fight that scrawny model off." She squinted at me. "She looks like a scratcher, but I think you could take her."

Cab jolted to life and careened up Fourth Avenue. A car cut in front of us and the sound of squealing breaks erupted.

I pitched forward, face almost crashing against the plastic partition.

Fingers tightened in a death grip around the handle above the window.

We jerked around a corner, missing a group of drunk pedestrians by a few inches.

"Don't you wish we took my car?" Renee murmured.

I congratulated myself on having enough dignity to not answer her with my fist.

HIGH-HEELED BOOTS CLACKED AGAINST hardwood floor.

The sound set my teeth on edge.

As visiting dignitaries, Julian and I spent the month on the third floor of an Upper West Side brownstone. Our residence consisted of two spacious suites leading off a large common area.

The house acted as an elemental community center. During the day, the library and meeting spaces on the first floor were in frequent use.

Guests stayed in second floor bedrooms and the basement workout room provided visiting gardinels and chevaliers with the equipment they needed.

Renee continued pacing, oblivious to the noise her shoes made.

"Is this necessary?"

Bianca, the Healer from Rivelleu, lifted her brow. "If you want to walk properly, then yes. Fixing this ligament is pretty important."

The fact that I was the only one injured didn't help my mood.

She slowly moved her hand over my knee again, Healing magic prickling under my skin like a river of fiery needles. The huge ring on her finger sparkled.

"When's the binding ceremony?"

A hint of pink crept up her face and she gave a blinding smile. "Thursday. I'm picking up my dress tomorrow."

The sheer joy in her voice was infectious.

"Congrats."

"Thanks."

Renee made herself comfortable on the seat of a large bay window overlooking Seventy-seventh street. Streetlight flickered, casting shadows across her elegant face.

Worry and doubt resurfaced. With each passing day, my supply of patience and time rapidly diminished. I was returning to Haverleau in four days and had nothing to show for it.

A few weeks ago, Julian had taken unnecessary risks almost resulting in the loss of his fingers. And now I had to deal with an entitled ondine who'd blown our sting operation.

When had I become everyone's babysitter?

Bianca slowly reeled in her magic. "Take it easy."

I gave an absent-minded nod. A tiny injury was the least of my problems.

"What do you think, Bianca?" Renee got off the phone and walked over. "Should the
sondaleur
stay off-duty for a few days?"

I raised my brow. "And give you time to come up with more ways of messing with my investigation?"

Bianca grabbed her things and hurried out of the crossfire.

"I've been working while you sat there getting your knee looked at." She made it sound like a spa appointment.

I gingerly extended my leg. Residual magic tingled, but the joint worked. "You were lucky tonight."

"Oh?"

"Edmundo was an unpredictable, highly volatile target," I said, exasperated. "If we hadn't gotten there in time, you'd be dead."