Anthem of Ashes: Book 9 in the Spellsinger Series Read online

  “Good point.” I started searching cabinets, opening doors until I found a forgotten gym bag, of all things. It looked as if someone had healthy intentions that didn't get very far; the bag was dusty and tucked toward the back. I dumped out the workout gear and started filling it with the canisters.

  “You're gonna open every locked door in this place. I want to be sure you're not hiding any more of these.” Odin grabbed the scientist by the upper arm and shoved him out of the room.

  We went with them, not to gather any hidden canisters—which there weren't any—but to find every piece of documentation in the place, along with every computer hard drive. We made a big pile in one of the hallways, and I burned the whole lot with a quick blast of fire. The sprinklers came on, and the howling irritation of a wet hellhound echoed down the corridor to us. But it didn't matter, my Fire melted and incinerated everything before the smoke had made it to the ceiling.

  Yes; I could have burned the whole place down—had intended to, in fact—but there were comatose people scattered through the facility, and it would have taken more time to gather them up and cart them outside than it did to destroy the documentation. And we still had to rescue Vivian. So, we burned what we could and left the humans to deal with the mess.

  “You come against us again—any of us—and my friends and I will find you and destroy you,” Cerberus snarled at the scientists. “You understand me?”

  They all nodded.

  “Good. Spread the word; the Supernatural world is not to be trifled with. Go play with combustible chemicals, they're much safer.” Cerberus shifted—fabric flying as he tore through his clothing—and his other form, that of a giant, three-headed dog, appeared.

  Each dog head picked a scientist to growl at and drive his point home. All three of the humans fainted right on cue. Then Cer shifted back and smirked at me.

  I rolled my eyes. “That was a bit much.”

  “My clothes were wet anyway.” Cer shrugged.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  We made a quick stop in Kyanite, where we changed into dry clothes and Cerberus simply put on some clothes (he has a tower there). And yes; I supplied fresh clothing for the witches. Once everyone was dry and clothed, we traveled to the next location; a research facility in Poulsbo, Washington.

  Set in the heavily forested area outside the small town, the BioSci compound wasn't as remote as the one in Alaska but it had better fortifications. Namely; high, cement walls guarded by armed men. A steel gate was the only way in, and you had to go to one of those camera/intercoms stuck on a pole to get permission to enter. Unless you had a group of beneathers with you, of course. Then, permission isn't as big an issue.

  I had wet hair and a bad attitude. The loss of Shava was a smarting pain in my chest. My only hope was that she was in one of those canisters I'd left in Kyanite and could be reborn soon. Even if she was, I'd still lose her for awhile. It would be years until she got old enough to renew our friendship. I'd also be without a teacher for my Fire, and I'd already proven how much I needed one. Yeah; I was fucking pissed. There was no way I was sitting this out.

  The steady stomp-clap of “It's Going Down” by Whissell reverberated off the walls before me, Kyanite offering me the perfect balm for my belligerence. The rest of my group stopped in their tracks and acceded the field to me. I grinned; one full of malice, not amusement. A predator baring her teeth at her kill. Although my prey hadn't spotted me yet; I hung back in the treeline with the others. I didn't need to get within range of their weapons to deploy mine. All I had to do was send forth my magic and enjoy the show.

  As my voice plodded up the lyrical incline, the guards began to search the woods for the source of the music. But Declan stood beside me, hand extended, and I knew that the reason their gazes skittered right past us was that my husband had crafted one of his lovely illusions as a shield. I sent him a quick, grateful nod before following the simple beat higher. The song was about seduction—finally giving in to desire—but it was also about breaking down walls without mercy. About conquering. Within the arms of this growling, tribal rhythm, sex became a war, and that was where I focused my magic. Into the point of no return. No escape. No standing against my fury. I was taking vengeance for Shava and all of her kin. And I wouldn't stop until it all came crashing down.

  The magic raced up from my belly and roared into my words as the music crested, lifting into the chorus. Guns fell from limps fingers as cement shuddered. Shouting began seconds later but the warnings were too late. A thunderous cracking drowned out my music momentarily, and the walls crumbled like stale crackers. Guards tumbled into the debris and stone dust caked the air.

  Declan dropped his illusion and took my hand. My husband and I led the way into the devastation. Now that we were headed inside, I needed more than one of his illusions to protect me; I needed a manifestation. Normally, Declan likes to manifest weapons but this time, he created a shield to deflect any attacks that might take us by surprise. He's a brilliant tactician, nearly as good as Gage, so he may have determined my need on his own. But one of the perks of sharing a bond with the RS is the way she unites us in battle; especially the men. They immediately knew how to support each other and protect me. So, I climbed over the remains of the steel gate confidently, Declan's magic watching over me while my music searched out any remaining threats and took them down.

  Once the outer forces were handled and the courtyard cleared, I powered down the song, moved to the back of the group, and let the others have a little revenge therapy too. We swept through the facility—completely above ground—while aggravating sirens went off along with the mandatory red lights that flashed from rotating bulbs set high on the walls. You'd think a nuclear explosion was about to happen. We weren't quite going nuclear, but I suppose Daniels might view a Beneather attack in the same light. He'd be an idiot if he didn't; especially after I pulled a Jericho on his outer walls.

  Yeah, I was starting to feel a little better; steadier. The clenching in my stomach had lessened to an ache. I was hoping it would leave altogether after I killed Daniels and made sure the fucker was dead this time. As luck would have it, it didn't take long to find him. The compound was much smaller than the one in Alaska. I was betting this was Daniels' first facility; the one he felt the safest in. Home base. And where else would a scientist be when he wanted to feel secure? His lab. There was only one laboratory in the facility and that was where we found Dr. Craig Daniels, soon to be deceased.

  He looked more angry than scared; his gaze narrowed into glinting slivers and his cheeks flushed with Fire magic. I suppose that's the confidence immortality gives you. But he must have known that a rebirth meant starting over. He'd come back as a baby; completely vulnerable to us. That's if I didn't scoop up his ashes and stick them in a metal canister first. I quickly clarified the situation for him, in case he really didn't know.

  “Of course, I know,” Daniels sneered. “But you aren't killing me today, Elaria.” He hit a button on the wall beside him and a light came on behind the dark glass that filled most of the wall.

  An observation cell was revealed; an exact replica of the one I'd been held in. In the middle of all that antiseptic white, on a narrow bed, laid Vivian. The Lady of the Lake looked ethereally beautiful; her gleaming hair rippling over the edge to pool on the floor beside her, her pale hands folded serenely over her stomach, and her stunning face relaxed in rest. The ultimate fair maiden in need of rescue.

  “If she's dead, I'm going to kill you slowly,” Odin declared. “Over years.”

  “She's not,” Daniels said smoothly, without the barest hint of the unease that should have paralyzed him. “But that will soon change if you don't leave my property right now. One touch of this button will remove the air from that chamber, and your pretty friend will suffocate.” He tapped an ordinary black button tauntingly.

  Every person in my group exchanged amused expressions. And then Daniels dropped to his knees, the device falling from his loose fingers.


  “You imbecile. You seriously thought you could hold a bunch of beneathers at bay with a button?” Torin grabbed Daniels by his arm and hauled him onto a chair; it swiveled crazily as the Dr. wobbled.

  “Nice alliteration,” I noted.

  “A bunch of beneathers at bay with a button,” Cerberus sang gleefully.

  Torin winked at me before resettling his glare on the mad scientist.

  “What did you do to me?” Daniels whispered.

  “I grounded your energy,” Torin said. “Simple.”

  A rumbling crash blocked out Dr. Daniels' response. The glass between us and Vivian shattered into smithereens and fell in a glittering snow. I glanced over just as Odin was lowering his hand. He stepped through the opening he'd made and gently gathered Vivian in his arms. As soon as he emerged, Glinda glided up and hovered over her friend, stroking Vivian's cheeks and feeling for a pulse. Then she leaned forward and blew air into Vivian's mouth. The Witch Leader of Water came gasping awake, thrashing in Odin's arms.

  “You're okay, Viv.” Odin put her on her feet and steadied her. “It's us; you're safe.”

  Vivian stared around herself with wide, watery eyes and sighed in relief. Then she spotted Daniels and did something very unladylike; very un-Vivian-like.

  “Kill that motherfucker!” Vivian shouted as she pointed imperiously at Daniels; the Lady of the Lake turning into the Red Queen.

  Daniels paled as everyone in the room readied themselves to fulfill that command.

  “Hold on!” I shouted.

  They all paused and stared at me.

  “First, I need to be sure of a few things.” I stepped toward Daniels. “You can die slow or quick; it all depends on the next words out of your mouth.”

  “Questions again, Elaria?” Daniels asked snidely. “Sure, we can play that game; one for one.”

  Slate stepped forward and punched him. Daniels flew backward, his chair rolling right into the wall and jolting him off it like a bucking bronco. Daniels tumbled to the floor in an ignoble pile. His arms shook as he pushed himself upright to glare at Slate, blood pouring from his mouth and nose.

  “I pulled that punch.” Slate stepped forward to loom over Daniels. “If I hadn't, you'd be dead. Speak to her like that again—in a tone less than respectful—and I won't hold back. Except next, I'll punch out your kneecaps.” Slate hauled Daniels back onto his chair. “We clear?”

  “What do you want to know?” Daniels asked me in a careful tone.

  “How many Phoenixes did you kill?”

  “Eighteen,” he said immediately.

  I clenched my jaw several members of our group cursed.

  “There are sixteen canisters of ashes stored at another location. I'll give you the address if you let me live,” Daniels bartered.

  “You son of a bitch!” Vivian hissed. “All you needed was one, but you killed eighteen?”

  Before anyone could tell Daniels that we already had the canisters, I accepted his offer. “Fine; we'll trade your life for theirs. But what about the other two?”

  “I made infusions from them.” He lifted his chin. “I gave a few drops to Arnold and Leo but the rest I drank myself.”

  “The power of two phoenixes?” I huffed. “Greedy much?”

  No wonder he'd been so confident.

  “I couldn't resist adding to my power.” He smirked. “Not when such a magnificent specimen came into my possession.”

  “Shava,” I whispered. “You drank Shava, you piece of shit? She was my friend!”

  Daniels flinched.

  “Then she's truly gone,” Odin whispered forlornly. “He's consumed her.”

  Maybe not, Kyanite murmured in my mind.

  I cocked my head, a sharp, bird-like movement. “Give me a second,” I muttered to the others before I focused on the voices in my head. You're not crazy if they really exist.

  What do you mean, Ky? I asked him in my mind.

  The power Daniels stole is not his to keep. I don't believe this man is immortal; not in the way he thinks. I don't know if he'll even burn on his own; his body is still human, merely possessed by Phoenix power. I believe that power will flee once it's released of the prison of his flesh.

  That doesn't sound good either, I argued.

  No, it wouldn't be. The souls he drank would not be reborn without all of the components of their essences. But those components are still in Daniels, and if you were to turn him into ash—incinerate his corpse—among his remains would lie theirs. The phoenixes should be able to reform from his ashes.

  “They haven't died,” I whispered. “Just like the RS, their magic has only moved bodies.”

  Exactly.

  And I can testify to the stability of a transfer, RS added. If that insane asshat drank those phoenixes, they're in him. They wouldn't change unless they wanted to. And I doubt either of them want to merge completely with that imbecile.

  I have a song for you, my love, Kyanite said smugly. If you'd care to give it a go. Something perfect for turning a no-good scoundrel into dust.

  I grinned smugly at Daniels as I answered Kyanite. “Of course you do.”

  “What are you thinking?” Odin asked me with a cautious look.

  “Not me; Kyanite. He's got an idea.” Then I looked at Cerberus and grinned. “Strap him down, Cer.”

  “You got it, El.” Cerberus started searching the lab for anything he could use as restraints.

  “You hurt me, and you'll never find those ashes!” Daniels shrieked.

  I just kept staring at him.

  “The place they're stored isn't listed as a BioSci facility,” he went on as Cerberus returned with a roll of duct tape.

  Funny how everyone keeps a roll of duct tape around; even scientists. I suppose it is handy stuff. Fix a tent, patch a hose, or strap down an insane murderer so he doesn't run screeching around his lab while you burn him to death.

  After Cerberus finished securing Daniels, I leaned in to say, “We have the ashes already, Dr. Daniels, but we're short two portions. So, I'm going to make some more.”

  “What do you want?” Daniels asked anxiously. “Money? Research? Property? I can give you whatever you want. Please! I could help you develop weapons to use against your enemies. What do you want?”

  “I want my friend back, you asshole!” I shouted in his face as the slapping, rhythmic beat of “Dust and Bone” by Syd Duran swirled around us like a furious tornado.

  My feet started stamping with the powerful beat as I snarled the opening lines. A battle cry. The march of a magical army. The song ground out its deadly promise and the magic growled out of my throat. I slammed it forward into the human and his eyes rounded with horror. Slam. Bash. Snarl. The music took me, and I rode it like a stallion into battle. But this wasn't a war; it was the annihilation of a single man.

  My words made him tremble, my magic rocking through his flesh. Dr. Craig Daniels had played with fire and thought he won, but fire always finds a way to consume; that's its specialty. You can't run away from the burn when the flames are inside you. He couldn't hide from my magic, and no god would answer his prayers. Time to abandon hope, Dr. Daniels. My song would be the last he ever heard and my face would be the last he looked upon.

  My threat turned into reality, my fury adding to its punch. As I rose into the heights of the last lament, singing about the way the cruel and lawless always pay in the end, Daniels started to shrivel. I had no mercy for him, just as my words declared. In fact, I took great delight in watching as my magic pierced him like an arrow and drained him dry. Daniels was mummified in moments; eyes shrunk into golden raisins and skin tightened into leather. It didn't stop there. He caved in upon himself and crumbled, the gray tape dropping in a ring on the seat as bones turned to dust and puffed into a mushroom-cloud before raining fallout on the floor.

  I finished the song even though Daniels was definitely dead and into the vibrating silence of my finale came a soft rustling. We gathered around the pile that had once been a human, g
aping at the light that began to emanate from every fragile particle. The ash separated; drawing into two piles as if magnetized. Those piles lifted in a spiritual breeze, twirling in a vortex of cinder and magic. A fire lit within the ash but then winked out suddenly. I caught my breath. Please let it work.

  The two tiny tornadoes fell—ash vanishing—and dropped two giggling babies onto the floor; a boy and a girl. I let out a relieved breath and rushed over to scoop up the girl. She had a mop of bright red hair and when she set her mahogany eyes on me, crimson fire flashed within their depths.

  “Hello, Shava,” I whispered in joy, sadness, and relief. A tear slid down my cheek. “I'm sorry I didn't get to you in time.”

  The baby girl stared at me solemnly and then broke into delighted laughter; shaking all of her limbs at me at once. A happy dance.