Elysian Fields (19 page)

“Wait.” I unwound my legs and settled to my feet. “I need to tell you what happened today. I summoned the Axeman.”

Alex rested his chin atop my head, his arms still wrapped around me. That meant we were touching, so I picked up his frustration even though he was shielding.

I stepped back. “I know you want to protect me, but that can’t be your full-time job.”

“Actually, it could be a full-time job.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets. So much for the romantic moment. “I know you follow your heart and I admire that about you, but you take too many chances.”

I considered what he was saying. “Would it make you feel better if I told you I had backup with me when I did the summoning? And when I went to interview the necromancer this morning?”

“Jean Lafitte?” He looked only slightly mollified.

“No, Rene Delachaise.”

Alex smiled. “Yes, that makes me feel better. Good choice. I like Rene.”

Crisis averted for now, but I had a feeling this subject would bite us a few more times before we figured it out.

“Come on, I’ll fill you in.” He followed me to the kitchen since I only had the one white plastic chair. We spent the next hour catching up and debating theories.

The phone rang while I was dragging out leftover shrimp and potatoes to reheat. I’d set my cell on the lawn chair, and I heard Alex’s voice rumbling in the living room.

He had answered my phone without asking. This beinga-couple thing kind of made my shoulder blades itch, but I sure didn’t want to leave it behind to live in the Beyond. And I didn’t want to run away to save myself while the Axeman and his wizard buddy continued to prey on my city. There had to be a solution to both problems.

“Quince Randolph wants to talk to you.” Alex returned to the kitchen and thrust the phone at me, frowning.

I gave him a frown in return. “Can’t it wait?”

Broad shoulders up, broad shoulders down. “He says no.”

Oh good, a chance to chat with Mr. Creepy. I set the plate down and took the phone. “What’s up, Rand? I’m busy.”

“Sorry to interrupt.” He didn’t sound at all sorry. “Can you come over to the shop? I need to talk to you. Just for a few minutes.”

“You want to talk, you can come here. You know how to walk across the street.” Unfortunately.

“I can’t leave the store untended. It’s important. You wanted to know what I am, and I decided it’s time you did. But I want to show you, not tell you over the phone. It won’t take long.”

Oh, Moses on a mountaintop, as my granddad used to say. “Fine, I’ll come now, but I can’t stay more than ten minutes. I have plans.” Which didn’t involve him, whatever he might be.

I ended the call before he could respond, and stuck the phone in my pocket.

“What the hell does he want?” Alex loomed in the doorway to the living room.

I finished arranging the leftover potatoes on the plate and shoved it in the microwave. “He says he’ll show me what he is if I come over there now, so I’m going. Take this out when it’s done? I’ll be back in ten minutes.”

“I’m going with you.” If Alex frowned any harder, his face would crack open.

I started to argue that Rand might not talk to me if Alex were there, but I rethought it. Hadn’t we just talked about me taking too many risks? And besides, if Rand was an elf, I didn’t want to be alone with him in case he turned into Mace Banyan Jr.

“He might not tell me if you’re there, but let’s try it.” I turned the microwave off and left the potatoes in there.

“I’ll stay in another room if he wants privacy, but he needs to know he can’t just snap his inhuman fingers and have you hop-to. If you run into trouble, yell or whistle and I’ll be there in two seconds.”

That sounded like a good compromise, and we’d avoided another argument. Maybe we
could
do this couple thing.

Darkness fell early since we’d gone off daylight savings time, and the late rush- hour traffic was heavy on Magazine, forcing us to cross at the light. I looked at Shear Luck as I walked past, and my annoyance at Quince Randolph swelled.

He was coming between Eugenie and me, and seemed to be doing it deliberately. I resented it. I needed to stop by her house tomorrow and make her talk to me. Try to make her understand that I not only wasn’t involved with her man, I didn’t even
like
him. Without revealing anything about wizards or other species or creepy stalker vibes, of course, which was a bigger problem. Eugenie knew I was shutting her out of big swaths of my life—bigger swaths than she could imagine.

“We had good luck telling Ken the truth about us,” I told Alex. “Maybe it’s time to clue Eugenie in about our world. She’d think it was cool.”

Alex rested a hand on my shoulder as we waited for the light to change. Possessive, but nice. “I don’t know. She might think it was so cool she’d get herself in trouble. The thought of Eugenie in a room with Jean Lafitte is just scary.”

He had a point. But I was going to give it serious thought. The Elders wouldn’t like it, but I’d never used their approval as the ultimate gauge for what I should and shouldn’t do. I was Gerry St. Simon’s daughter, after all.

The light at Magazine and Nashville turned, and we crossed the street to Plantasy Island. I’d never been in the shop, my own gardening efforts being limited to a few pots of herbs for potions and charms. I loved flowers but couldn’t grow them.

A bell sounded over the door when I pushed it open, Alex right behind me. The front of the store was stuffed with cuteness. Metal sculptures, fancy scrolled flowerpots, garden flags, even an entire wall of ceramic gnomes representing different occupations. I paused, staring at Attorney Gnome with his pinstriped hat and scales of justice. Who came up with these things? Plus they cost seventy-five bucks each.

“There you are, Dru.” Rand emerged through a wide door in back. Behind him I could see a large, leaf-filled space. “And . . . Alex.”

Was it my imagination, or was he less than thrilled to see my backup?

“Stop calling me Dru—that’s my great-aunt. Alex and I were about to have dinner when you called.” I peered around him. “How do you get enough light in there to grow anything?”

“I replaced the back walls and roof with greenhouse glass. It’s retractable when the weather’s good, but it’s too cool right now.” Rand glanced behind him. “Wait a sec.”

He disappeared through the greenhouse door for a moment, then reemerged with a terracotta pot holding three white lilies with wild purple spots on them. “For you, something unique.”

Alex mumbled something under his breath, and I’d lay odds it wasn’t a comment on Rand’s thoughtfulness. I took them reluctantly, wondering what he’d expect in return. I also wondered how he managed to work around dirt all day in his pristine white sweater. It should have made him look washed out but instead gave him the appearance of some pretty Russian snow prince. “Thanks.”

“Toad lily,” he said. “One of the few things that blooms here naturally this late in the season.”

“Pretty,” I said, “but we have dinner plans, so let’s talk about what you are.”

“So impatient.” He shifted his gaze to Alex. “I’d really hoped to speak to you alone.”

Alex crossed his arms and gave Rand his enforcer stoneface. “I’ll wait out here and you guys can talk in the greenhouse.”

Rand responded with his own crossed arms and pouty face.

Good grief. “Alex can study the garden gnomes. We’ll talk in the greenhouse. Take it or leave it.” I gave Rand my bitchy wizard face.

“Fine. Let me close up.” Rand locked the front door and dimmed the front lights. “Give us a few minutes, Alex.”

Grunting in his best monosyllable, Alex settled into a chair behind the counter and picked up a landscaping magazine. I set down my toad lilies, met his gaze over the top of the magazine, and smiled. We made a pretty good team when we worked at it.

“Come on, it’s time for me to answer some of your questions.” Rand rested a hand on my shoulder and propelled me toward the back, closing the door behind us. Alex would probably ease it back open within seconds.

The lights of the city streaked gold across the greenhouse glass, giving the whole thing a glittery feel. The air was clean and crisp, probably from the small sprayers that cut on and off to keep the plants green and healthy. I took a deep breath.

“The plants give off all that oxygen—nice, isn’t it? Come this way.” Rand walked ahead of me toward an ornate gazebo that took up an entire corner of the cavernous greenhouse. Painted white, it had Victorian-inspired wooden trim and two benches inside. He sat on one, and I took the bench facing him.

“Okay, Rand. Give it up.”

He reached up and removed the peridot studs from his ears, then tugged a gold chain from beneath his white sweater. At the end of it hung a gold-and-peridot tree. He handed them to me.

As before, the buzz of wizard’s magic made my palm tingle. “Where did you get these? And don’t tell me you bought them on eBay.”

“Black market—they’re easy enough to get. Even wizards need a supplementary source of income these days.”

“You still haven’t told me what you are. Elf? Faery?” I eyed him for any physical changes with the removal of the peridot. Apparently, his prettiness was real. If anything, his blue-green eyes were richer and brighter than before. I still didn’t read any aura from him that was identifiable, just a light, unfamiliar magical charge.

“You haven’t figured it out?” He grinned at me. Even his teeth were perfect.

“Give me your hand.” Maybe I could tell more if I touched him.

A flick of an eyebrow in an expression almost triumphant spread over his face before he settled into an easy smile. He stretched out his arm and took my hand. His fingers wrapped around mine, but still I felt only that light energy.

He grasped my hand harder, closed his eyes, and spoke softly in an odd, musical language I couldn’t understand. The room spun, and the greenhouse slipped into a soft fade. I opened my mouth to scream, but the sound came out soft and breathy as time and space squeezed my lungs.

The gazebo was a freaking transport.

H
oly crap—I’d been tricked and kidnapped like I was a rookie. I’d never hear the end of it.

One second I sat in a gazebo in a Magazine Street shop, and now my boots were planted on an area rug in a large octagonal room. It had what architects called an open floor plan, with lots of blond wood to give it a modern, urban feel. Bright floodlights outside the floor-to-ceiling windows illuminated what looked like the edges of dense forest. It was already nighttime here, which probably meant I was either in Europe or Asia, or somewhere in the Beyond. My bets were on the Beyond.

A fire popped and crackled cheerfully in the middle of the room from a central fireplace surrounded by rugs and conversation areas. Deep, cushiony armchairs beckoned in greens and browns. In the back, where the windows ended, lay a short hallway and a small but functional kitchen. The place smelled of pine.

“What the hell have you done?” I jerked my hand away from Quince Randolph and glared at him. I was going to make his life a living hell when I got out of here. Making me look boneheaded was the quickest way to bring out my vengeful streak. And I had a long memory.

“Want something to drink?” He walked into the kitchen area, looking pleased with himself.

“Where are we? Why are we here?” My voice hinged on hysteria, louder and higher-pitched than normal.

“I thought it would be easier to explain things this way.”

I was going to kill him, that’s all there was to it. If I could sprout fangs and fur right now, he’d be so much dead, bloody meat on the polished hardwood floor. We’d see how pretty he was then.

I willed my voice to reflect a calm I didn’t feel. “Explain what? Didn’t it occur to you that I might listen better if you hadn’t
kidnapped
me?” And right under Alex Warin’s nose. He was going to be so royally pissed.

Rand cocked his head. “You wanted to know what I am.”

“What you are is a flipping sociopath.” I stomped to the only visible outside door, which had been inset in one of the huge windows that looked out on an ocean of treetops. From what the floodlights illuminated, the land looked hilly. We definitely weren’t in pancake-flat Southeast Louisiana anymore.

I turned the doorknob and pulled, but it wouldn’t budge. Frowning, I grasped the knob with my right hand and tried to send a pulse of physical energy into the lockset, willing it to turn. A feeble, tingling force of will skittered from my hand and dissipated. I don’t have a lot of physical magic, but that had been pathetic, even for me.

But wizard’s physical magic didn’t work in the Beyond. Crap.

I rounded on Rand. “Let me out of here, you lying, peridotwearing sonofa—”

He assumed a contrite expression I didn’t buy for a minute. “Don’t be mad, Dru. You’re in Elf heim. You’d already guessed I was elf. My Synod just wants to talk to you a few minutes, and then I’ll take you home. I promise.”

Freaking elves. I should have known. I tried to blast a shot of physical energy into the fireplace, just a pulse to stoke the fire, and when that didn’t work, willed every bit of magic I could muster. Nothing, damn it. Why oh why hadn’t I stuck one of those grenades in my pocket?

“Alex is going to kill you, you know. You can’t go back to New Orleans. And I have friends in the Beyond who can take you down.” I’d hire Jean Lafitte to kill him. If I could just get out of here. Jean would probably do it for free.

I studied the floor, but our transport wasn’t visible so it had to be hidden under that big area rug. I wasn’t sure exactly where we’d landed, but it was somewhere between the door and the round dining table.

I walked to the edge of the rug and threw it back to see the universal transport symbol. Rand made no move to stop me as I stepped into it. I knelt to activate it and send myself home . . . and then remembered I had no magic.

“You’ll need me to get you back anyway. It’s locked without our transport phrase.” Rand’s voice was annoyingly patient. “Just wait and talk to them. It won’t take long.”

“They can wait until the Monday after Thanksgiving, when we planned.” I picked up a heavy wooden stool from the kitchen bar and tested its weight. Turning it upside down, I grasped the legs and hefted the whole thing back to swing it like a baseball bat. If I could break the window, I’d be out.