Cruel Enchantment (35 page)

She frowned at him, giving him a thumbs-up sign in return and pointing up toward the surface of the water with the index finger of her other hand. Was there a problem? Did he need to ascend? Yet he didn’t seem to be in distress.

He waved his arms at her—
no
—and pointed downward, toward the box. Giving the thumbs-up again, he headed down, leading the way. After hesitating a moment, she followed. David was a master diver and he’d just made a rookie mistake. Worse, he’d done it twice and acted like he didn’t even know he’d done something wrong.

There was definitely something going on with David. Something bad.

Frowning and on edge, she headed down farther and farther into the darkness, the white bottom of the boat growing smaller. The box was half buried in the sand, wedged between two rocks. Magick had kept it from being completely buried after thousands of years, as if whoever had hidden it had wished to conceal it enough to be very difficult to find, but not impossible.

As if they’d meant for only those who really needed the piece to have a shot at recovering it.

David hovered near her as she extracted the box and removed the key. Beside her, David looked tense. She took a deep breath and said a prayer to Danu that this would work. Then she slid the key into the lock. . . .

It turned.

No magickical explosions. No booby traps.

She closed her eyes for a moment in relief. Aeric had done his part of this well.

Slowly, still half anticipating magick blowing up in her face, she opened the lid. Inside, on material that looked like red velvet—velvet that had been produced the day before instead of thousands of years ago—lay the piece they were looking for. Odd, sharp angles; shining metal. Innocuous. Mesmerized, she lifted it, turning it in her hand to examine all the sides in awe. It was such a simple object, yet it meant so much to the fae.

Something yanked her by the air hose, ripping her mouthpiece away. Bubbles rose in her face, blinding her.

Then, ominously, the bubbles stopped.

She scrabbled at her air hose for a panicked moment. Bubbles still rose in the vicinity of her back. Her air hose had been cut. What the hell?

Confused beyond belief, she whirled, coming face-to-face with David, who held a sharp diving knife and a less than reassuring expression on his face. Malice danced in eyes she barely recognized.

Oh, sweet lady, have mercy. He’d done it
.
He’d cut her breathing tube.

He reached for the piece and she darted away from him, pushing upward toward the surface as hard as she could. But, Danu, she couldn’t hold her breath for as long as it would take to get to the top.

He grabbed her ankle and pulled her down. She came eye to eye with him, her heart breaking and her mind whirling over possible reasons he would do this and coming up blank. All she knew was that it had something to do with the piece, so she dropped it. He dove after it, but she grabbed at him, trying to get his air hose from behind.

His knife flashed, swooping up toward her. She gripped his wrist and thrust with all her strength away from her. They struggled, rolling in the water. Her lungs were starting to burn. Time was not on her side. Pain ripped through her upper arm and she looked down to see her blood coloring the water. Her suit was cut and her skin neatly laid open.

She scrabbled at his face, yanking his mask and mouthpiece off. Bubbles rose from the freed mouthpiece, obscuring his vision. His eyes went wide with surprise and panic and his face flickered . . . shifted. . . .

Another fae. A fae with the same glamour magick she had.

Danu. She’d thought she was the only one.

The fae looked at her, eyes wide, realizing the slip—then the glamour dropped. It was a woman with pasty white skin, dark red hair, and a pockmarked face.

With that click of realization, “David’s” strange behavior all made sense.

The strange fae’s knife arched toward her again.

She grabbed her wrist and they battled, the edge of the blade coming closer and closer to Emmaline’s throat. Gods, but the woman was strong, stronger than she should have been. Her injured arm screamed with pain and her chest burned from holding her breath. Time was quickly running out. If she couldn’t get the upper hand quick, she was dead and the piece would be lost.

Giving it everything she had, her adrenaline surging, Emmaline gained control and forced the blade in the other direction. With one last burst of strength, she forced the tip to the fae’s throat.

And pushed.

Blood floated out in a cloud. The light green eyes of the pockmarked fae woman showed only fear now. She knew death had her. The fae thrashed in the water, floating away and gurgling incoherently.

Emmaline let the knife drop and took up her own severed, yet still bubbling, air tube. Before all the air was gone, she took in as much as her lungs would hold. Then she dove through the murky blood-and-sand-swirled water to find the piece.

Precious moments passed as she frantically searched. Sharks would be attracted to the blood, which was a complication she didn’t need. Worse, she wasn’t sure she had enough air to get to the surface.

There! She grabbed the piece and shrugged off her tank. It fell to the ocean floor, making her lighter. It would help her ascend faster, and she needed
fast
. Luckily she wasn’t so far down that she had to worry about the bends. She pushed off the sandy bottom and propelled herself toward the surface, clutching the piece close to her chest and breathing out slowly and steadily as she went.

Breaking the surface of the water she threw her head back and gulped in air, thanking Danu for being down there with her. She was still alive. Amazing.

Her mind was spinning, but she knew two things.

She’d found the piece.

Now she had to find the real David.

SHE
went back to the only place she could think to look, the hotel.

Securing the piece in her backpack and with her wounded arm wrapped up tight under her shirt to stop the bleeding, she used the hotel room key she’d found in David’s pack to enter his suite. There was a Do Not Disturb sign on the door.

The smell hit her as soon as she cleared the threshold—the metallic scent of blood.

She followed the scent through the suite and into one of the bedrooms. “Oh, Danu,” she cried as soon as she glimpsed the slumped figure tied spread-eagle to the bed.

Calum’s eyes were closed and his mouth gagged. His face was ashen and his limbs were sagging against the rope that bound them. Blood soaked the mattress and sheets from long, deep cuts to his stomach, thighs, and chest. It wasn’t unlike what Lars liked to do to her, but on a much more violent scale. This was a scene straight out of a horror movie. The redheaded fae had tortured him slowly, until she’d bled him out.

“Calum,” she sobbed, coming up to the side of the bed. “Oh, Calum.”

She stood there, looking down at his body for several moments, in total shock. She’d seen dead bodies before, of course. She’d produced quite a few of them herself, but it had been a long time and this was a friend.

Another grief-drenched sob escaped her. She pressed her hand to her mouth and closed her eyes on a wave of anger and sadness welling up from somewhere deep inside.

“Hey,” Calum croaked, “you can untie me whenever you want, okay? Sooner would be better than later, though. I need a drink.”

Her eyes had opened at
hey
. Calum was still as ashen as death, but his eyes were opened into slits and a trace of a smile played over his mouth. She let out a tear-laced laugh and made quick work of the knots securing his wrists and ankles.

Then she reached for the phone. “I’m calling an ambulance.”

“No. They’ll figure out I’m fae and throw me in Piefferburg. Don’t you dare.” Calum blew out a careful breath and rolled his considerable, blood-drenched bulk over the side of the bed. There was a thump as he landed on the floor.

Putting the phone down, she ran around to help him.

He put a hand up. “I’m okay, I’m okay.” He struggled to his feet and grinned. “Bitch didn’t know part of my magick is healing. She cut me; I healed it.” He winked at her. “You know the drill, right?”

Yes, she did, though her skill was not as pronounced.

“I pretended like she was really hurting me—which, of course, she was. Made the bitch think she’d killed me so she’d leave me alone.”

“I didn’t know you had healing ability of that magnitude.”

He nodded. “I figured in my line of work this might happen one day. It was a good secret to keep. If the Irish cow had known I was healing up all her torture, she’d have tried harder to kill me instead of assuming she’d done me in.”

“Irish?”

He glanced at her arm, which was bleeding through her shirt despite her efforts. “Didn’t you meet her?”

“Yes, well, our meeting was underwater. I never heard her talk without glamour masking her voice. She pretended to be David and she was after the piece. That’s all I know.”

“God, I’m glad you’re all right. What about the piece?”

“She’s dead and the piece is safe.”

“That’s my girl.” Relief had him sagging so much he had to sit down on the bed. He winced at the pain it caused him. “I don’t know much about her other than she’s—she
was
—free fae and came from Ireland. Still had a hell of an accent. Oh, and that she definitely didn’t want the warding around Piefferburg broken.”

“A free fae who didn’t want the warding broken.” Emmaline felt the expression on her face go hard. “What the hell?”

“Yeah,” he said with a lift of his brows. “I don’t know. Come on, let me wash up and change clothes so I don’t scare the hotel guests. While I do that, you tell me what happened. Then we need to take a trip across town to try to find David.” He started across the room at a halting, pain-filled gait.

“Across town?”

“Yeah, David met a woman here and was dating her. Turned out it was really the fae bitch. The woman she was impersonating had an apartment across town. I’m hoping he’s there.” He paused. “Hoping he’s not dead.”

They went into the bathroom, where Emmaline helped Calum clean and bandage his wounds. All but a few exceptionally deep slashes were already healed. Calum’s healing ability beat hers to smithereens. As she worked, she told him everything that had happened since she’d landed at the airport.

As they left the room, he turned to look at the bloody bed. “The maid’s gonna need therapy after cleaning that up,” he said and then shut the door.

On the way to Kiya’s apartment, Calum filled her in on what had been going on in Haifa. How they’d never known there was another fae—a free one, at that—with the same ability Emmaline had. It had masked her from Calum’s ability to sniff out fae and Phaendir. He’d shaken her hand and never felt a thing.

Emmaline was so angry at the fae she’d killed that she wanted to do it all over again by the time they’d reached the apartment building—only this time, slower. Jaw clenched, she followed Calum up the stairs and kicked the white wooden door open before Calum could say a word.

Inside it looked as though there’d been a struggle. The coach cushions were on the floor, a chair was knocked over, and everything had been swept from the coffee table. There was no blood. That was a good thing.

Spotting something on the carpet in front of the coach, she knelt and picked it up.

“A syringe,” said Calum. “Interesting. Either she drugged him up to keep him quiet, or she drugged him up so she could transport him easier.” He paused. “Or maybe kill him easier.”

A chill shivered down her spine. “Let’s search the apartment.” She hoped he was here.

She hoped he was still alive.

It didn’t take long. The fae hadn’t even bothered to hide him very well, that was how confident she’d been that her plan would work. Emmaline found David lying in the bathtub, still out from whatever drugs she’d given him.

“Hey,” she said, kneeling beside the tub and slapping his cheeks. “Hey, David.” No response. She stood up and turned the shower on full blast—cold, icy water.

David came awake with a shout and nearly leapt out of the tub.

Emmaline shut the water off and grinned down at him. “Hi, you.”

Shaking his head, he groaned. After a second, he grinned up at her. “Hey, nib. I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you.”

“How about your loyal alcoholic sidekick?” asked Calum from the doorway. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”

David ran his hand over his face, wiping water away. “Calum, I’m happier to see you than a whole room full of strippers.”

“You know, David,” said Calum, “I hate to say it, but . . . I told you so.”

 

 

GIDEON’S
palms were sweating. He rubbed them on his trousers, amazed that he was confident enough to try to overthrow the Phaendir, yet this woman could make him nervous. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on her door.