The Fires of Tartarus Read online

  I looked at the massive fire demon, his mocha skin gleaming in the warm glow of the kitchen fire that crackled merrily beside me, and I shook my head. “It’s just a book, Dimitri, not real life.” My voice was harsher than I intended and Dimitri glanced up, looking uncomfortable.

  “Da, da. I sorry, Jéhenne, real life is much more tragic, is true, da.” He nodded as fat tears rolled silently down his face.

  Rodney pushed a plate piled with bacon sandwiches in my direction.

  I smiled at him.

  “What would I do without you?”

  “Bleedin starve, I reckon,” he muttered, but I could see he was happy. If only everyone was so easy to please, I thought as my own personal rain cloud strode into the room.

  “We need to leave. Are you ready?” Cain asked, scowling at my mountain of bacon sandwiches. My bad-tempered brother was never one for small talk in the mornings.

  I shrugged, my mouth too full to respond.

  Rodney sighed. “You want those to go?”

  I nodded at him and ran to get my coat.

  ***

  By the time we were en route, Cain was his usual sunny self. Which meant we'd driven for an hour and a half in total silence. The sandwiches sat heavily in my stomach and were not being helped by the sense of unease at who we were going to meet.

  “So who is this guy exactly?” I asked, squinting as the spring sun glittered over the frost white countryside.

  “Oh, he's a peach,” Rodney piped up from the back seat, his tone dark.

  “Dragon's OK,” Cain said, cool green eyes flicking to Rodney via the rear view mirror.

  I turned to see Rodney pull a face. “Yeah, a drug smuggling Fae, real trustworthy.”

  “Dragon?” I said, watching my brother.

  “I'm not suggesting you move in with him,” he snapped, sounding impatient. “I'm not even suggesting you trust him, but he's the only one who can get the kind of restraints we are going to need if you insist on going through with this insanity.”

  “Do you really want to have this conversation again?” I demanded. I heard Rodney's intake of breath as the atmosphere in the car sparked.

  Cain's eyes went to my hands, clenched and covered with blue flame. “Control yourself before you set us all alight,” he said. He sounded tired.

  I took a breath and shut my mouth, and kept it that way. I figured it was the only way we'd make Paris without killing each other.

  ***

  “Nice neighbourhood,” I remarked, looking around me at boarded up shops and acres of graffiti, the bright colours vivid against the uniform grey of the street. Empty crisp packets and food wrappers blew past my feet like shabby plastic butterflies as an icy breeze cut through us. Cain turned his back on me and surreptitiously cast a ward over his car. It would be the only thing that guaranteed it would still be here when we got back if the surroundings were anything to go on.

  “Come on.” Cain strode across the road leaving me and Rodney to scurry in his wake.

  “Where the hell are we going?” I hissed. Rodney grimaced.

  “A Fae bar, full of lowlifes. Mostly those who trade between the worlds.”

  “Smugglers you mean?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, keep yer hand on yer ha' penny, luv. Dodgy don't begin to cover it. They smuggle all sorts, booze, drugs, magic ... People.”

  I stopped in my tracks. “People?”

  His face darkened. “You've noticed the Fae are a pretty lot, ain't you?” he asked dryly.

  I scowled at him. He knew damn well the only Fae I had ever met was a certain Elven Prince and I may hate him, but I couldn't deny he was a gorgeous bastard. “So?”

  He shrugged, pushing me forward as Cain disappeared round a corner. “So there's a big trade in them ... For slaves. That's what these restraints you're after do, subdue them. Stop them accessing their magic.” He looked as disgusted as I felt. “Keeps them docile.”

  “Shit!” I looked at Rodney in disbelief as we turned the corner. “This bastard is a slave trader?”

  “Oof!” Rodney put out his hand to steady me as I ploughed straight into Cain who'd stopped to let us catch up.

  Cain glared at me. “Keep your damn voice down!”

  “I am not doing business with a fucking slave trader, Cain!”

  He cursed and rolled his eyes at me. “No,” he said, running his hand through his hair. “You're not.” He grabbed my arm and towed me after him. “Dragon doesn't trade slaves and if I were you I wouldn't imply that he does. You might upset him. Upsetting Dragon is not good for your health,” he added darkly. I raised an eyebrow at him, and he sighed. “His mother was a slave, OK? She didn't meet a nice end.”

  “Oh.”

  “Oh,” he repeated letting go of my arm, his voice mocking. “Now both of you keep your mouths shut and let me do the talking, right?”

  I glared at him and Rodney stuck his hands in his pockets, looking at the floor.

  “Right?” he repeated, sounding increasingly impatient.

  “Right! Alright!” I snapped. “For God's sake, get on with it.”

  He carried on down a street that grew increasingly unpleasant with sex shops on all sides and whores plying their trade even in broad daylight. I watched with amusement as men who probably considered themselves hard and dangerous in the human world scattered in his wake, their hard, cold eyes knowing true danger when they saw it. I kept close, watching Rodney casting anxious glances at our surroundings, and then I felt the ward hit me. Every sense screamed at me to turn around and walk away. Quickly.

  “This is it,” he said, gesturing to a building that looked like it should have been condemned about fifty years ago.

  “Of course it is.” I sighed.

  Cain pushed open the door and we followed him into the gloom.

  Magic and smoke assaulted my senses the minute we stepped through, as well as a few more unusual odours I wasn't familiar with. The place looked shabby and well-used. I could imagine at night, with lights and music blaring, it probably looked like any other bar to the untrained eye. But the shelves stacked with unusual bottles were a dead giveaway if you knew what to look for. Fae liquor was notorious. I'd drunk some once, and I wasn't about to repeat the experience. One sip and I'd been unconscious, waking up with a pounding headache and a grouchy vampire at the end of my bed. I suppressed the pain that bloomed as I remembered why that had been.

  “Cain.”

  I looked back to the bar and the frowning barman who watched us with a look of deep displeasure.

  “Beck.” Cain nodded and extended his hand, Beck took it with the expression of someone being handed rotten fish.

  “Light Fae,” Rodney whispered to me.

  “How can you tell?” I asked, curious.

  “That yellow colour of his hair, blue eyes, bit rounded like.” He leaned in closer. “He's been 'ere too long, looks sick. See how grey 'is skin looks? Light Fae have perfect skin, too pretty by half usually, mind you could say that about any of em. He's an exile.”

  I looked and could see what Rodney meant. He was an older man, heading towards fifty which meant he could be seriously old by Fae standards. He was a bit overweight as Rodney had said, but I could see he'd been a handsome man.

  We turned back to Cain and his conversation with Beck. The barman was holding up his hands. “Don't tell me, I don't know and I don't want to, right?” He jerked his head towards the back of the building. “Through there, up the stairs. You'll find your own way out and ...” He pointed at Cain, his eyes narrowed. “I don't want no trouble.”

  Cain snorted and turned away. “You never do.” He gestured for us to follow him and we followed to the staircase.

  We entered a dark room with music thundering, Rihanna singing about getting naked. The beat thudded dully through the floor, and coloured lights flickered, illuminating a barely dressed blonde writhing around a metal pole with dead-eyed enthusiasm.

  “You've got to be kidding me,” I muttered and then sighed as I saw
Rodney with his eyes on stalks. I gave him a sharp poke in the ribs, and he leapt, tearing his gaze away with a guilty expression.

  “Eyes front,” I hissed.

  Rodney nodded and looked away. “Err, don't tell Milly, eh?”

  I snorted, and then my eyes fell on the woman's audience. I had to force myself not to take a breath. Rodney was right; the Fae were too damn pretty for their own good.

  He stood as Cain approached him, looming over my brother like a tower block and built the same way. I was used to being around big men, but this guy was half mountain. His shoulders looked like an American footballer's - with the padding still on. He was smoking, sapphire blue smoke coiling in strangely perfect curls from the hand-rolled cigarette dangling from his fingers.

  He turned to us fully as we approached and gave me the once over. There was a considering look there, like he was wondering if the stories were true. I wondered if he'd try and find out.

  “Dragon, this is my sister, Jéhenne. You know Rodney I think.”

  Dragon transferred the cigarette to his mouth and held out a hand to me. I hesitated, thinking that if he tried to kiss my hand as a certain Fae prince would have done, my patience was going to get used up fast. To my relief, he just shook it, his hand engulfing mine, his grip warm and firm. He greeted Rodney, and we sat down now the niceties were done.

  My eyes drifted to his neck and an ugly, ragged scar that ran close to his jaw line. It looked like someone had tried to hang him - and only just failed. He saw my gaze and grinned at me.

  “I'm an acquired taste,” he said with a wink. I raised an eyebrow but kept my mouth shut. I wasn't about to encourage him. Sitting this close, the scent from the cigarette was sweet, like maple syrup. It kind of reminded me of burnt pancakes. My stomach rumbled.

  “Put that damn thing out,” Cain said, wafting blue smoke away from himself with a look of disgust. Dragon shook his head, grinning and showing rows of perfect white teeth.

  “Always so uptight.” He stubbed out the cigarette and gave Cain a heavy-lidded look of amusement. “You know ... you really should do something about that.”

  Cain scowled. He'd been scowling to begin with, it was kind of the norm for him after all, but now he looked livid.

  “Am I wasting my time here? You said you could help.”

  Dragon looked him over, his expression placid and unhurried before turning his attention to me. His eyes were hazel brown and as warm as his handshake.

  I felt a flare of annoyance. Cain was right, he was wasting time. While we'd been talking the blonde had removed some more of her minuscule outfit, and to my dismay she was right in my eye-line. “Do you think you could tell your little friend to take five? She's making me feel nauseated,” I said with a venomous, sweet smile.

  He laughed, real amusement in his eyes, and then gestured to the blonde to call it a day. She gave me a look of cool dislike before sashaying off-stage.

  He lifted his eyebrows at me. “Better?”

  “So much,” I replied, meaning it and then becoming uncomfortable as his eyes lingered too long on me now that the distraction was gone.

  “Dragon.” Cain growled.

  He returned his attention to my brother. “Yeah, yeah, maybe I can help.

  “Maybe?”

  He sat up straight, his expression serious. “What - exactly - do you want them for?”

  Cain glanced at me and shook his head. “I explained that already. I can't tell you any more than I have.”

  “Come on, man.” Dragon leaned back against the faux leather banquette and shook his head. “You haven't told me shit.”

  “For the love of the gods,” Cain muttered. “You know I don't touch slaves, you bastard. It's not for anything of that kind.”

  “So what kind then?” the big man persisted as he glanced at me again. “You want some seriously heavy duty magical restraints, and you want the means to make them even stronger. You don't think that rings some alarm bells?” he said, his voice low. “These things are not easy to come by, and I'm taking a big risk in getting them. I need to know I'm not going to end up in the middle of a shit storm if whatever you're all planning isn't just for some kinky bedroom fantasy that I don't want to know about.”

  “It's to restrain a vampire, OK?” I said.

  Dragon's eyebrows shot up.

  “Jéhenne.” Cain's voice had a warning tone. He'd told me on endless occasions we had to keep the news about Corvus quiet for as long as possible. As soon as the vampire Senate knew. they would want to meet the new Master, i.e. me, and things could get complicated quickly. I waved my hand at him.

  “Look he's ... mentally unstable, but I'm working on a spell to keep him level. In the meantime we just want to be sure he doesn't hurt anyone.” I kept my voice even and Dragon looked at me, apparently deciding if I was telling him the truth. I was, obviously. What I wasn't saying was that we were dealing with one of the most powerful Master vampires on the planet - I figured that was the bit Cain wanted me to keep quiet about.

  “That's it?” he asked, his eyes narrowed. “Why didn't you say so in the first place?”

  I shrugged. “Vampires like to keep their business personal.”

  We looked at each other some more and finally he let out a breath. “OK. I must be insane but ... OK. I'll get them.”

  “How much?” Ever the diplomat, Cain jumped in.

  There was a significant pause.

  “Four thousand aurela.”

  Cain's mouth hit the floor. “Out of the question! You must be insane ...”

  Dragon leaned towards him, his expression fierce. “Do you have any idea of the amount these things are going to cost me, the amount of people that need bribing to get hold of the damn things before I even get to the gates?” His massive hand pounded the table. “This isn't a crate of Ebony Fire, this is the kind of thing that could get my head separated from my shoulders!”

  Cain crossed his arms. “One thousand.”

  Dragon laughed in his face. “Not in a million years.” The two men glowered at each other. “Three thousand.”

  Cain shook his head again.

  Dragon scowled.

  I exchanged a worried glance with Rodney. I had no idea how much an aurela was or if we could afford it, but I assumed Cain knew what he was doing. At least I hoped he did. My brother scratched at the stubble on his chin and it glinted with copper tones in the flickering light. Finally he held out his hand to Dragon. “Two and a half thousand aurela; it's my final offer. Take it or leave it.”

  Dragon looked at him and then at his hand, his expression thoughtful. Then his face split into a broad grin, and he took Cain's hand. “Done.”

  “We 'ave been,” Rodney muttered beside me.

  “Now,” said Cain. “What about the pearls?”

  Chapter 3

  Cain drove us home with a Big Mac balanced on his knee and large fries rammed into the cup holder. There were several other bulging paper bags and burger boxes he hadn't opened yet. Apparently negotiating a deal gave my brother an appetite.

  “I still don't get what the pearls do,” Rodney mumbled through a mouthful of burger.

  Cain nodded as he filtered onto the madness that was the peripherique or ring-road around Paris, and I took one last glance through the twilight at the Eiffel tower that glittered on the hour like a massive, iron Christmas tree.

  “The pearls amplify the power of the restraints,” he said before cramming a handful of fries in his mouth. “So how quickly they drain the magic away from the user. The more pearls, the quicker the power drain.”

  “But these aren't ordinary pearls, right? He said green pearls.” I reached over and snatched a bunch of Cain's fries, and he scowled at me. “What? I ate mine.”

  He huffed and gestured for me to give him my coke.

  “What? I drank mine,” he said with a whiny voice.

  I narrowed my eyes at him and handed him the drink.

  “Thank you,” he said with a smirk. “Yes, green pear
ls. They're incredibly rare but the most efficient for this purpose.”

  “And we can only get them from a Selkie?”

  Cain's face fell, a deep frown furrowing his brow as he nodded. “Yes, and don't ask me because I have no idea.”

  “Fabulous,” I muttered. It was late afternoon now and although I'd just eaten two cheeseburgers and large fries, I was starving and getting cranky. The knowledge that it wasn't food I was hungry for wasn't helping my mood. The black shadow of depression lingered behind me, so close I could feel it, a cold and all too tangible presence over my shoulder. I hadn't told Lucas about this little day trip because I knew he'd flip out at the idea of my being away from him for more than a few hours. Unfortunately I was beginning to see his point.

  I let my fingers sink into the soft leather of the seats, gripping hard and trying to keep my attention on the problem at hand. If I could focus maybe we'd get home without me having a melt down on the auto-route. “So Selkies are sea-bound shape shifters, is that right?”

  Cain nodded and handed me back the empty cup. I tutted at him and stuffed it in the bag with all the other rubbish.

  “Yes, and they're even rarer than green pearls,” he grumbled. “I haven't seen one in centuries, and even if you do find one, getting to speak to one is impossible. They run a mile if you get anywhere close. They can smell a witch a mile off.”

  “Even better,” I said through gritted teeth, feeling seriously tense now. “So we've spent how much on these cuffs?”

  “Two and half thousand Aurela,” Rodney said from the back seat.

  “That's a damn good price too. I was prepared to pay three and a half,” Cain added looking smug.

  I glanced at Rodney who looked less convinced.

  “And what's that in real money,” I asked.

  “About two million euros.”

  “How much!” My yell made Cain jump, and he swore at me as we sailed past our exit.

  “Damn it, Jéhenne!” He glared at me, but I was almost hyperventilating with shock and his face softened. “Calm down, you can afford it.”

  “I can?” Not that I cared about the money. I didn't care about anything but getting Corvus back, but I'd never had any money, unless you counted the thirty seven pounds and six pence I'd left in my bank account in the UK when I came to France. The idea of having to find a sum like that ...