Crimson Veil

Chapter 5

“Menolly!” Delilah’s scream cut through the night.

Before she could say anything else, Shade shot past her, and the next thing I knew, I was in some dark, veiled space. Shade held me tight against him. I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t think—it had all happened so fast. And then I realized we weren’t in the room with the fire creatures. And the flames on my arm were gone. Before I could wrap my head around this little fact, everything shifted again and we were back with the others, but in a different spot from where I’d been when he first grabbed me.

There wasn’t time to figure out what had happened. Instead, I leapt up, looking around to assess the situation.

Delilah had backed away, and Camille was shooting some sort of spell at the fire beings, who were still lobbing fireballs. Bran had moved around to the side, but even he looked confused, his sword at the ready. He was smart enough to know, as was Delilah, that physically engaging these creatures wasn’t going to do much good beyond getting a nasty third-degree burn.

Camille shouted in frustration. “We need Smoky! Or… Iris.” Her energy bolts were disrupting their progress but not stopping them. In fact, I had the nasty suspicion that the only reason they paused as she tossed bolt after bolt toward them, was to quite possibly absorb the energy into their own power.

“We can’t ask Iris—” Delilah started to say but then stopped.

“We have no choice. We have to have someone with her power because whatever these creatures are, we don’t seem to have the wherewithal to fight them.”

“Water! The fire hoses!” I didn’t know if it would work or not, but I raced back outside and frantically motioned to Chase. “We need fire hoses, at full force. Now!”

Chase barked out an order, and three of the firemen who were still stowing their gear pulled the hoses out again and, within sixty seconds flat, had coupled them back up and were following me.

By now, Camille and the others were backing away. The figures were still coming. In their wake, their bodies had started up the fires again as they passed through the still smoldering ruins. I shouted for everyone to get out of the way and we backed to the sides as the fireman pushed through into the building again.

As the fire creatures came through, two abreast, then two more, then one in the rear, I motioned to the firemen and they let loose with the hoses. The water struck them full force, and at first, they wavered. I thought they were going to be swept off their feet, but somehow, the fiery women managed to keep upright. Slowly, they began to make headway against the onslaught of pressure.

Fuck. I’d hoped maybe we could put out their flames. I turned to Camille and Delilah, who were watching the progression of our opponents.

“What the hell now?” Delilah shook her head. “Can you call Smoky?”

“I can send out a sense of distress but it would take too long. No, we need Iris, and we need her now. She’s the only one who can work ice magic besides Smoky. And I think ice magic is the only thing that will counter flame.” Camille grimaced, but the look she gave me told me she, too, knew it was our only option.

“Can she do this? So soon after having her babies?” Delilah sounded like she was choking on a hairball.

“She’ll have to. Because if those things get loose in the street, do you have any clue of what damage they could do?” I turned to Shade. “You can’t bring her via the Ionyc Seas, can you? Not with her nursing and being alive?”

Shade could easily carry the dead—including the undead like me—through the Ionyc Seas. They were vast currents of energy, oceans that connected all planes. But because he was from the Netherworld, he wasn’t easily able to safely ferry the living. They usually ended up sick.

“No, I can’t. And neither can Vanzir. But I’ll have him get her here ASAP.” And with that, the half–shadow dragon vanished.

Meanwhile, we had to somehow corral these creatures until she could get here. They’d be out of the building in minutes. I turned to the others, feeling unusually helpless. At that point, Bran sauntered forward.

“I know what they are,” he said, leaning against the nearest car. “I also know that without a sorcerer or witch who can work ice magic, you’re sunk.”

I wanted to smack him and ask him why he hadn’t spoken up earlier, but then again, we’d all been beating a retreat. “What are they?”

“Fyrun Fae. The Fiery Ones. They usually stick to warmer climes, near volcanoes mostly, but they also can enter through bonfires, house fires, or…” He motioned to the Utopia. “Through fires like that one. And ten to one, they were summoned via rune work planted on the walls before the arsonist torched the building. Probably an added little bonus in terms of causing confusion. Fire bugs tend to be more than a little anarchistic.”

It was one of the longest speeches I’d heard out of him, and even with that smirk on his face, the concern was evident in his eyes. He knew we were dealing with someone dangerous, and perhaps over the edge toward the loony bin.

“Daemons. Can daemons summon Fyrun Fae?”

He nodded. “Some can.”

“Ten to one they were in the Wayfarer, too.” I wondered just how we could find out if I was right, but then pushed the thought aside. Right now we needed to take care of our present unwelcome guests before I went hunting through the ruins of my bar.

Shade reappeared then. “Iris is on her way. Bruce’s driver is bringing her. I didn’t want to leave the house unguarded, so Vanzir is still there.”

“Fall back! Fall back!” The firemen stumbled back out of the building, running to the sides.

They were still carrying the hoses, but in another moment, a rumble echoed into a freight train as there was an explosion by the entrance of the building. Flaming shrapnel—wood and debris—went flying as everyone dove for the nearest cover.

Where the doors had been, there now existed a large hole. Stepping through the soot-filled and burning maw of the club, came the Fyrun Fae. They paused as soon as they exited the Utopia, looking around the parking lot as if they were pinpointing their next target. It felt a lot like watching a pack of hyenas scanning the horizon for food-on-the-hoof.

Delilah scrambled over to my side, and Camille followed her. “What are they looking for? Do they eat people?”

“Probably after they roast us,” Camille grumbled.

Bran slowly stood from where he’d crouched behind a car and sauntered over to stand between us. He slipped his hands in his pockets and stared at the Fae.

“Eat people? No. No, they do not. Kill people? Yes. But what they’re looking for now is more food.”

“If they don’t eat people, what do they eat? Steak?” De-lilah’s gaze was fastened on the Fyrun Fae as if she could stop them via wishful thinking.

“Think about it.” Bran sounded a little exasperated. “If you were made of fire, what would you eat?”

“Oh crap. Wood. Trees. Grass… anything that burns.” I pushed past them and ran over to Chase. “We have to move anything combustible out of their way. Including all the cars. Gasoline? Fyrun Fae? Bad combination!”

Chase motioned for the other firemen to join us and we formed a semicircle around the Fyrun Fae. As we slowly backed away, we began to toss aside any debris that might be flammable. Three of the cops started to break into all the cars in the nearby area, hotwiring them and driving them to the other end of the parking lot. As we cleared the path in front of them, the fiery women spread out, their heads swiveling slowly as they searched for fuel.

I shouted at Bran. “Hey, Unicorn Boy, how long can they last without refilling their flames once they’re out of the portal and in our world?”

He didn’t even look my way. “Long enough to cause havoc. And when they finally get tired of our game here, you can bet they’re going to be speeding up and then we’ll see how long it takes them to break through our lines, considering they can firebomb us and crisp us to toast. How do you like that for an answer, Bloody Mary?”

The women glowed, like sunlight captured within the framework of a body. While we could see vague impressions of their faces, mostly they were encapsulated flame, living pillars of fire. They were so alien I knew we could never reason with them, and yet they were not Elementals. They were a Fae so far from our own natures that I couldn’t see how we could ever even hope to communicate.

I darted to the side, grabbing a pile of loose boards that had once been a signboard. I tossed them as far away as I could. We’d do it again, once we reached where they landed.

Camille was scrambling to rip out a bush that was in a narrow island of grass. There was nothing we could do about the lawn itself—or was there?

Shade motioned for Camille to move aside. He knelt down, examining the grass. With a single glance at Delilah and me, he lightly placed his hand on the blades and closed his eyes. A flare of lightning moved over him, then down his arm—the purple crackle of his magic working deep and dark as it spread through the ground. A moment later, the grass began to wilt and vanish in a whiff of dust. Within another moment, only barren dirt remained, and the bush had also vanished, so much ash in the wind.

As we stared—we’d never seen that particular aspect of his magic before—a car screeched into the parking lot behind us. It was the limo, and the driver ran around to yank open the door and help Iris out. She looked tired, and harried, dressed in a warm winter gown the color of deep twilight, with silver stars embroidered on it. Her hair was braided up on her head, and she carried her silver wand with the Aqualine crystal on it. The tattoos on her face were glowing under the night sky, and their filigree gave her a haunted, ancient look even against her smooth, plump skin. We hurried over to her, ready to explain, but she pushed past us before we could say a word, staring at the Fyrun Fae.

“I haven’t seen one of these in such a very long time. They are related to Loki, you know. And to the fire giants. They come from the land of flame, and they feed on everything that will burn.” Her voice was soft. “They are volatile, like all fire-bound creatures. No sudden movements, please. I am bound to the ice, snow, and mist. They will sense me soon enough and it will be war.”

“Are you sure you want to do this? We can find another way…” Delilah knelt down by Iris’s side. “Little Mama, we’re not going to let you hurt yourself.”

Iris straightened her shoulders. “Kitten, step aside. Tonight, I am not Iris the mother, or Iris the house sprite. Tonight, I wear the cloak of Iris, Priestess of Undutar. These creatures, you see, they are my sworn enemies. While the balance is necessary, fire and ice will forever be bound and forever be fighting.”

“What do you need us to do?” I motioned for Delilah to obey. Reluctantly, my sister moved away.

Iris assessed the situation. “I can take them, but not all at once. You must distract at least three of them. Two at a time, my magic can handle.” She paused, looking thoughtful. “Whatever happens, I must not touch them directly. It would be… very bad.”

“We won’t let you get burnt,” Camille said.

“No, that’s not the issue.” She shook her head slowly. “The problem is this: They come from the realm of fire. I am bound to the realm of ice. When both elements are brought together on a mundane level here—such as plunging a sword from the forge into the snow—we work together. But the Fyrun Fae and I are all deeply connected to our primary elements and realms. They, through their very nature. Me, through my goddess. If we touch… well, let’s say this whole city block might be leveled.”

Crap. That wasn’t what we needed to hear. “Um, should we evacuate?”

She shook her head. “No, there is no time. They are hunting now, and if they do not feed soon, they’ll grow restless. The last thing you want are rogue Fyrun Fae running around. Bran—you know enough to be able to help me.” She turned to the son of the Black Unicorn and Raven Mother. “I require your help.”

To our surprise, he snapped to attention, saluting her. “Priestess, I am yours to command.”

“I want you to take Camille—don’t argue, either one of you—and…” Iris stopped as Morio came running up.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t get here before now. What’s…” His voice drifted off as he took in the situation. “Fucking hell. What do you need?”

Iris cocked her head. “Even better. Morio, I need you to strengthen Camille’s Moon Magic. Camille, I need you to call down the storm in a way you’ve never called it before. We need a gusher. It won’t snuff out their fire, but it will make it harder for them to navigate. Morio, feed her as much energy as you can. Bran? You and Menolly go tempt two of the Fae with wood or whatever you can scrounge up. Use it like a carrot to keep them occupied. Delilah, you and Shade do the same to two of the others. I’ll take care of the one in the middle first. Go. Now.”

And with that, she ordered us into position. Bran and I gathered up armfuls of wood, as did Delilah and Shade, and we spread out, each targeting two of the Fae. If Iris could work on one at a time, it would be safer.

Camille knelt down on the pavement in front of Morio, facing the sky, arms out and head thrown back. He placed his arms on her shoulders and the thick thread of magic that bound them began to weave its way through the night. Like a snake, sinuous and ancient, it coiled around them, the serpent of power, the raw force of the night and of the Moon Mother. Camille needed to make this work, to not have it backfire, because with the Fyrun Fae running around, gods knew what a backlash spell might do.

She began whispering some chant as the energy rode down through Morio, jumping her shoulders, infusing her with the essence and life of the Moon Mother. They worked their powers together, blending them like fine scotch.

As the winds picked up, the sky began to boil and clouds danced in a frenzied swirl. With a crack, lightning split through the night, thunder echoing in its wake. A hail of bullets hit us—rain pounding so hard, so thick and fast, that the wind drove it sideways like stinging pellets. Harsh and wild, it slashed against us, blades of water, and the clouds blotted out any sign of stars or moon that might be peeking through. The only light we had was from the dim streetlamps.

The Fyrun Fae looked confused. They paused, staring up into the sky as if to ascertain from where their attacker was coming. Bran and I moved into position, taunting two of them with long pieces of wood. One raised her finger, pointing at us, and it looked almost as though she was sniffing the air. The other followed her gesture and they began to head our way. On the other side of the Utopia, Delilah and Shade were doing the same.

I glanced over to Iris. She stood there alone, having waved Chase out of the way. Worried, I wanted to run to her, but then I saw it clearly—the outline of energy that surrounded her. Her aura radiated pale blue streaks, infused with the purples and pinks that shadowed glaciers under the aurora-filled sky.

She held up her wand, pointing it at one of the creatures, and in a voice as faint and chiming as bells on the wind, she sang out some incantation in Finnish. I couldn’t understand what it meant, but I could feel the intent.

Within a split second, the Fyrun noticed her and began to run toward her, the slow cautious pace abandoned in a fierce sprint. But Iris pointed her wand and a pale beam of snow and frost burst forth, shooting like a hail of ice pellets, a veil of mist. As it hit the Fyrun woman, we heard a loud sizzle, then a shriek, and like a blow dryer dropped in the bathtub, the creature began to spark, convulsing as the frost laceworked its way over her like a spiderweb. A moment later, the flames flared through the webbing of frost, then exploded. The sparks flickered brightly, then vanished into the night.

I didn’t have time to understand what Iris had managed to do, but the Fyrun Fae had noticed what was going on and they were headed toward her in a fury. Delilah’s two were also turning, ready to aim themselves at our house sprite.

“Fuck, we have to keep them from overwhelming her!” I stared toward one of them but Bran pushed me back.

“Fire can ignite you like dry tinder. Toss that piece of wood to the side. They’ll have to go after it, and it won’t offer much in the way of fuel.” He headed toward the one he’d been taunting.

I raced alongside the Fyrun, finally managing to catch her attention by waving the slatted wood almost within her reach. A moment later, she turned, gazing at me calmly. I tossed the wood, hard, a few yards away. If I threw it too far, she might ignore it.

After a moment’s hesitation, she headed toward the wood, her hunger palpable in the night. As she ignited the broken sign, I turned back to see that Bran had managed to get the attention of his opponent. She, too, was beginning to feed. The rain helped us, soaking the wood so that it made it harder to catch flame, and so it was taking them longer to ignite and devour it.

Delilah had lost control of her Fyrun, but Shade had managed to distract his. Iris moved in quickly, aiming her wand at the approaching woman. Another burst of frost, and another flameout as fire and ice met. And then a third, and by that time, the two we’d engaged were barreling down on her. With one last push of effort—Iris looked exhausted—she managed to net both of them at the same time, and with a huge flash, they vanished to wherever it was she sent them.

Iris stared at the empty parking lot, then slowly began to collapse to the ground. Shade caught her up in his arms and we gathered round her. Camille and Morio broke their trance, but the massive rain storm continued.

“Iris, bless you. Are you all right?” Delilah fussed over her, brushing a few stray bangs out of her eyes.

Iris flashed us a weary smile. “I’m all right, yes. Tired? Definitely. Exhausted and needing my bed, I think. But they are gone and they will not return. However, we must find the runes that allowed them entrance and put a stop to them or they can be used again.”

“What should we be looking for?”

“It will look similar to a Demon Gate. And will most likely be where the fire originated. That would burn the brightest and hottest. When you find them, come get me and I will take care of them. I am the only one here who can destroy them.”

As we hesitantly reentered the building, Chase came with us. We left Morio and Bran outside with Iris to protect her. We worked our way through the darkened, soggy remains of the club, and I tried not to think about the Wayfarer and the people who had died under my watch. This one was going to haunt me for a long time. I knew it wasn’t my fault, but knowing something didn’t always translate into feelings. Emotions didn’t play by society’s rules, nor did they pay much attention to logic. But now, I knew that we had to look for signs that more of the Fyrun Fae had been loosed in my bar’s fire. And if so, were they still running around Seattle?

Camille sent out feelers, trying to home in on where the magic that had summoned the Fyrun Fae might be based. And then she paused, as if listening.

“I think I have it. I hear it…” She began to hurry, stumbling over fallen timbers and piles of ash and charcoal. The scent of soot was so thick that she and Delilah were both coughing, but rain was now pouring in through a couple smallish holes on the ceiling and that only added to the confusion. Thank the gods for the lights on our helmets or we’d all have ended up with broken legs.

We passed through a hallway, then into one of the back rooms, following Camille as she sped up. “Here, this way—it’s there, and we have to hurry because whatever it is, it’s still activated.”

Chase reached out to grab her elbow when she stumbled. “Don’t hurt yourself. We’re headed right to the point of origin. We know it broke out back here because a couple of the waitresses who were checking the supply closet noticed the flames when they began. But the fire was so strong, they couldn’t put them out with the fire extinguisher, so they evacuated the building and called the fire department.”

As I looked around at the mess, a shiver ran down my back. There but for the grace of the gods…

“I’m just grateful everyone got out alive.” I set my lips, thinking that it was going to cost Shikra a pretty penny to rebuild. Luckily, she was a vampire and had probably accumulated a good savings by now. That was one advantage to being able to charm almost anyone you chose to. She could have a billionaire boyfriend without too much of a stretch. At least long enough to get her hands on his bank account.

“I guess we aren’t dealing with ghosts after all.” Delilah let out a small sigh of relief.

I echoed her sentiments. Given all that we’d faced, we were getting very tired of spirits and hauntings.

Camille stopped by a storage closet—or what had been a storage closet. It was now a burned-out shell.

“Here. What we’re looking for is in here. Go get Iris.” As she leaned in, shining her light on the walls, Shade took off for the door.

Etched against one of the timbers that was still standing were brilliant runes, the color of flame, the color of white-hot fire. Mesmerizing, they lined the wood, difficult to look at and yet more difficult to look away from.

Camille reached toward them, then stopped. “Daemons. These are not demonic, but they are akin to it—it has to be daemon in origin.” Daemons were akin to demons, but usually less chaotic and more organized. They had different natures, that much was for sure, though neither of them tended to be very pleasant to deal with.

Delilah let out a sigh. “Lowestar? He’s the daemon at the top of our list right now.”

“Probably. I do know that I am reluctant to touch them.” Camille backed away. “Something tells me that touching those runes would be very, very bad. Any other thoughts on the matter?”

Shade returned, holding Iris well above the floor.

She examined the runes. “This is it. These activate the portal to the realm of the Fyrun Fae. It’s intimately connected with the Elemental plane of Fire, but a step to the side, you might say. And you’re right, if any of you touched these, it would suck you in and you’d be so much toast.”

With a glance at Shade, she added, “Put me down. I need to be on firm footing to do what I’m about to do. And the rest of you back away. No telling what will happen when I blast those suckers.”

“Be careful, Iris.” Chase knelt down. “Please, be careful. Bruce and the babies need you. Astrid and I need you.”

She gave him a tight-lipped smile and patted his cheek. “I am made of tougher stuff than you may believe, dear detective.” And then she motioned for him to move away.

We backed off, watching. Camille and Delilah were breathing tightly, I could hear the shallow intake, see the tight rise and fall of their breasts as they tensed, waiting for Iris to act. If I was a breather, I’d be right there with them. As it was, I poised myself to move, whether it be to throw myself on Iris to protect her, or run like hell if everything blew.

She stepped back, tested her footing against the debris on the floor, then aimed her wand at the runes. She closed her eyes, lowered her head, and began whispering a conjuration, a combination of song and chant. Her voice was clear and light, and though I didn’t understand the words, the force behind them was sovereign.

A stream of frost came from the wand, narrowly focused, and she trained it on the center rune, which was a little bigger than the rest. As frost met fire, the runes began to fill in with ice, and a crackling static rattled the air. A low rumble began to shake the hall as the frost worked its way through each rune, freezing them into stillness, quenching the fire within.

The rumble became a quake beneath our feet, yet still Iris stood steady. When she reached the top rune, a gust of flame burst out from it, shooting over her head. If she hadn’t been so short, it would have hit her in the face, but as it was, all it did was shower her with sparks, which sizzled into vapor before they reached her hair.

And then, as the last rune completely filled in, all the runes blazed bright bluish-white, the shimmering blue of ice in winter, and they exploded, shattering into a thousand shards, which flew every which way.

Iris shouted, but when I would have run to her, she held out her hand. A moment later, the fragments of ice fell to the ground as a cloud of mist rose. They began to melt. The wall where the runes had been inscribed was gutted, as if it had burned right through to the core. But no sparks remained, no sign of the magical flames that had caused the gaping rectangle of a hole. Instead, the drywall and wood surrounding it looked saturated, as if a surge of water had thundered through.

When the air cleared from mist and smoke, Camille was already by Iris’s side. Delilah and I joined her, anxious.

“Are you all right—do you need help?”

“Did you get hurt?”

I swept Iris up in my arms. “You look exhausted.”

And she did. Her face showed the strain of the magic, and she leaned against me, her arms nestled against my chest, her head on my shoulder. I could feel her weariness, and the electricity that still charged around her body. A faint scent of ozone lingered around her like a perfume—like the smell before a snowstorm. As I shifted my grasp to hold her better, she let out a long, slow sigh.

“I don’t think I can stay awake much longer.” Iris gazed into my eyes. She wasn’t afraid of me. I knew she respected me, and she never seemed repelled by my nature, nor did she show outright fear. “I’m so tired, and my breasts ache. My babies will want their feeding, and so will Astrid.”

I nodded for the others to move as I carried her out of the building, cautious so as not to jolt her. At the limousine, I slid her into the backseat. “Take Mistress Iris home, please. And make certain she has help getting to the house. She’ll need a long rest tonight, and food. Tell Master Bruce that… tell him we couldn’t have saved the day without her. That she saved our asses.”

With a grin, the chauffer tipped his hat, made sure she was belted in, and then pulled into the silent night, ferrying our friend home.

I turned back to the others, who had joined me. “So we have a daemonic gate into the realm of the Fyrun Fae. I wonder if there was one in the Wayfarer. And if so, is it still there?”

“We’ll look. But for all we know, if there was, it might have been rigged to recall them after a certain time.” Shade stared at the parking lot. “Lowestar Radcliffe’s prints are all over this.”

“There are other daemons around, but Trytian knows that if we found out he was doing something like this, we’d crush his balls.” Camille leaned her ass on the back of the Lexus, looking exhausted. “And given Lowestar is attempting a coup on Seattle Supe-owned businesses, and that he’s attempting to open a gate to Suvika, the demigod of vice and finance, yeah, I think we’re on the right track.”

My stomach lurched. Lowestar was not only a white slaver, but also a murderer. In my gut, I knew that he was the one who had ordered the arsonist to torch the Wayfarer. And that meant he was responsible for Chrysandra’s death, and the deaths of the other patrons who had lost their lives in my bar.

I wrapped my arms around myself. Though the chill didn’t bother me, I felt empty and cold and angry. And I wanted revenge. For me, and for all of Radcliffe’s victims.