The Eldritch Conspiracy (Blood Song) Read online

it

  encountered.

  I vowed to add a thousand to the

  amount I’d offered them to watch the

  house. Refilling the pool isn’t cheap and

  despite her protests, I knew David had

  changed the water right before I’d left.

  After writing myself a reminder, I

  changed into my suit and went for a

  swim. The tide rolled out with me,

  following me into the water.

  There really isn’t any way to explain

  what it feels like to swim in the ocean.

  Once my body cooled to the temperature

  of the water, it was as if every wave

  was an extension of me. I dove through

  the breakers and swells until the surface

  was nearly flat. There wasn’t much of a

  breeze and the sun warmed my hair. A

  porpoise appeared and chuckled at me—

  probably commenting on the waste of

  using my arms. Feeling playful and

  relaxed at last, I played with the

  porpoise, diving right alongside his

  sleek gray form. We came out of the

  water

  nearly

  simultaneously,

  then

  dropped back in again. We must have

  done this about ten times before he

  bobbed his head in approval, tittered,

  and swam away to join a group that was

  tail-walking in the distance.

  I floated on my back for a time while

  the seagulls overhead swooped and

  dipped in approval. I’d been away from

  the ocean long enough to pine for the

  sea, and yes, to miss my noisy feathered

  friends. One of them flew down fast, as

  though dive bombing a ship, and I nearly

  dropped under the water to avoid being

  hit. But it slowed at the last second in a

  fluttering of snowy wings and delicately

  dropped a tiny pink conch shell onto my

  bare stomach. Then it flew back up to

  join its fellows overhead. How sweet. A

  gift from my admirers.

  I have weird admirers.

  I suppose I should have called some

  people to let them know I was back. But

  I really wanted peace and quiet for at

  least a day or two. So I put my new

  conch shell on the mantel with the others

  I’d collected over the years, called out

  for pizza since my fridge was bare, and

  opened a bottle of wine.

  I thought a lot about the wine before

  selecting a simple California white,

  ignoring the magically enhanced red I’d

  come to relish. I couldn’t drink that wine

  right now, not without conjuring up a

  whole lot of bad memories. I didn’t want

  to think about the man who’d created that

  wine. Not today. Maybe not tomorrow,

  either.

  It took two more days of swimming,

  sitting on my favorite rock overlooking

  the water, and just padding around the

  house before I felt ready to be part of the

  real world again. Finally I dressed and

  headed for the office one morning

  instead of the beach. I was looking

  forward to a nice, normal day dealing

  with a backlog of telephone calls and

  paperwork—and chatting with Dawna,

  my smart, savvy receptionist, who is

  also one of my best friends in the world.

  I run a private security business out of

  an office on the third floor of one of the

  last historic buildings in downtown

  Santa Maria de Luna. It’s an old, red-

  brick Victorian with gingerbread trim, a

  wide front porch, and a balcony on my

  floor that lets me get fresh air while

  offering partial protection from the

  California sunshine. Once upon a time it

  had been a stretch to afford the rent.

  Prices in Santa Maria aren’t as bad as in

  Hollywood or L.A., but they’re not

  cheap, either. After I inherited the

  building (and the headaches that go

  along with owning commercial property)

  that wasn’t an issue. I hadn’t even known

  Vicki had owned my office building until

  after her death.

  Pulling into my reserved spot in the

  parking lot, I found myself smiling. God,

  it was good to be back. I couldn’t wait

  to get back to normal, or as close to it as

  I could manage. Dawna’s car was in its

  usual spot. I wasn’t surprised. As

  receptionist, Dawna wasn’t scheduled to

  start for another hour, but she gets into

  work early more often than not. Maybe

  we’d get a chance to talk before the

  day’s craziness started.

  Ron’s car was not in his spot, for

  which I was grateful. One of my tenants,

  Ron is an attorney and an ass, but not in

  that order. I really wasn’t in the mood to

  deal with the level of bullshit his attitude

  creates.

  Gulls swooped and dived overhead as

  I climbed out of the car. They cawed and

  performed aerial acrobatics, trying to get

  my attention. I smiled and made a

  shooing gesture. “Go play. I’m going to

  be inside all day.”

  Anyone watching would be amused to

  hear me talking to them. They would be

  shocked to see the gulls obey, swooping

  one more time before flying off toward

  the shore.

  Dawna must have heard them, or me,

  because the minute I opened the door,

  she raced toward me and pulled me into

  a hug.

  “Thank God, you’re back!” I grunted a

  little as she squeezed me tighter. Dawna

  is petite, but apparently she’d continued

  the workout schedule she’d started

  before I left because she was much

  stronger than she had been.

  She held me at arm’s length, long

  enough for her dark eyes to take in every

  inch of me from head to toe. “You look

  like hell, girlfriend. What happened?”

  I tried for humor. “I look a lot better

  than I did two days ago. I even trimmed

  the singe off my hair and scrubbed off

  the blood.” Her eyes widened but I

  didn’t elaborate. I wasn’t ready to talk

  about it, so I made a show of looking her

  over in turn. I might look like hell, but

  she looked great. Part of it was just good

  looks. She’s part Vietnamese and has the

  kind of exotic features that attract a lot of

  attention. She also knows exactly how to

  make the most of her assets. Today she

  wore a black pinstripe skirt suit with a

  snow white blouse, accessorized with a

  delicate diamond necklace and matching

  earrings. And of course there was that

  big honking rock on her finger.

  After a whirlwind romance I sort of

  instigated by realizing, while on a date

  with a certain guy, that Dawna would

  make a much better girlfriend for him,

  she was going to become Mrs.

  Christopher Gaetano. Being engaged

  definitely agreed with her. She was


  practically glowing with joy.

  I was happy for her, but thinking about

  it made me all too aware of the absence

  of John Creede from my life. “There’s

  too much to talk about without coffee.

  Besides, if you have a minute, there are

  a couple of things I’d like to discuss

  with you.”

  “Uh-oh.

  That

  sounds

  ominous.”

  Releasing me, she gave me a wary look

  and turned away to shut the door.

  “It’s not bad.” I gave her a smile. “I

  promise.”

  “Good. You head on upstairs. I’ll

  forward the phones to the service and

  pour coffee.” She gave me a gentle push

  toward the stairs, followed by a shooing

  motion that was almost identical to the

  one I’d given the gulls.

  “Thanks, Dawna.”

  “No problema.”

  The familiar words brought back my

  smile—a smile I held on to clear up until

  the moment I was standing outside the

  open door of the empty office on the

  third floor where John Creede had

  created the magical wine currently

  sitting undrunk in my beach house.

  Though he’d had other offices, he’d

  rented this one to be close to me while

  we were dating. The room was empty

  now; the floor was damaged where

  someone had pulled up the temporary

  flooring that had been where he’d

  performed his magic.

  He was really gone.

  Shit.

  I blinked back tears. I was not going

  to cry, damn it. Absolutely not. I’d done

  what I had to do. I really did believe

  that. I’d do it again. But it didn’t make it

  hurt any less seeing that empty office,

  remembering when Mexico had started

  to really go wrong.

  “What do you mean you

  reassigned him?” I kept my

  voice down. The office

  door was closed, but the

  walls of the building were

  none too thick and I didn’t

  want anyone overhearing

  this argument.

  “I decided I needed to

  have Jorge help with the

  spell work on the vans.”

  “You

  decided

  you

  needed? And you didn’t see

  any reason to check with me

  first, even though I’m the

  one in charge? Humberto

  was depending on Jorge to

  watch his back, and I

  assigned

  Jorge

  to

  him

  precisely because he could

  cast a protection spell in

  case there were booby

  traps. Which there were, so

  now I’ve got an injured

  man. What the hell, John!”

  John gave me “the look.”

  It was an expression I’d

  seen far too much of over

  the past couple of weeks:

  superior to the point of

  condescending. The men

  had seen it, too. It was

  undermining my authority

  with them and with the

  clients. People had begun to

  run my orders past John

  before actually following

  them, and to obey his orders

  before mine. That was

  unacceptable.

  He spoke carefully, as

  though addressing a child …

  or at least that was how it

  felt. “You hired me for my

  expertise.”

  Really? When did I say

  that? “No, Creede, I hired

  you because you have good

  men and good equipment,

  and I thought you were

  capable

  of

  following

  orders. Apparently I was

  wrong about the last part.” I

  spoke softly, but my voice

  was cold enough to frost the

  windows,

  despite

  the

  Mexican midday heat.

  His face darkened, anger

  making his golden eyes,

  filled with magical flame,

  flash menacingly. “We both

  know you needed to hire

  me,

  Celia. You’re not

  qualified to handle this kind

  of project. Bodyguard, sure.

  But

  a

  full-fledged

  evacuation

  with

  a

  multiperson crew? I can’t

  believe

  you

  agreed

  to

  handle

  the

  evacuation

  without a soul to back you

  up. Remember, you called

  me. Hired me to cover your

  ass so you didn’t embarrass

  yourself in front of the

  clients.”

  Embarrass

  myself?

  Embarrass myself? Oh, no.

  Oh, so fucking no. “I called

  you because you had people

  available. Maybe I didn’t

  mention you weren’t my

  first

  choice.

  I

  called

  because your business has

  sucked lately. Remember

  that part? That I said on the

  phone I wanted to do you

  the favor of a quick

  paycheck? But screw it.

  You’re fired. Get your

  Miller & Creede people

  together and get your butts

  back to L.A.”

  “You wouldn’t dare,” he

  said

  in

  a

  dangerous,

  venomous whisper. I could

  actually feel the power of

  his magic building in the

  room, rising like scalding

  water.

  I met his eyes without

  flinching, without backing

  down. “I’ll have Dawna cut

  you a check for the days

  you’ve actually been on the

  assignment.”

  In a fit of pique, he’d taken both vans

  and all the contractors except Maria,

  Luis, and Lorenzo. It had floored me that

  he would risk people’s lives that way.

  Totally unprofessional.

  And very likely unforgivable.

  But I’d gotten them all out. By myself.

  The only person who would be

  embarrassed by that was John Creede.

  The tricky part was going to be figuring

  out how to get the word out that I’d

  succeeded without “taking the credit.”

  That little bomb hit me as I stared at the

  empty room.

  “Celia.” Dawna’s voice brought me

  back to the present. “Are you okay? You

  look … odd.”

  I didn’t feel odd. I felt hurt, sad,

  humiliated, and pissed. John and I had

  been fairly serious. I’d really thought he

  respected me as a person and as a

  professional, and that we’d be able to

  work well together. Apparently I’d been

  wrong. It hurt. A lot.

  She passed me over a cup of steaming

  coffee. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Not yet.
” Again, maybe never.

  The eyes that met mine were worried.

  “Okay.” She sounded doubtful. “If you

  say so.”

  “I do.”

  I was spared further discussion by

  Ron’s baritone bellow from downstairs.

  “Dawna!”

  “Oh hell, ” she muttered. Ron may not

  be my favorite tenant, but Dawna loathes

  him. Of course, since she’s the

  receptionist, she bears the brunt of most

  of his bad behavior. More than once he’s

  driven her close to quitting or to

  violence. He thinks his law degree

  makes him superior to the rest of us mere

  mortals. He’s an autocratic, demanding

  bully, but he pays his rent on time and

  ponies up for building maintenance

  without too much complaint, so I’ve put

  up with him.

  I laughed. “Good to see some things

  haven’t changed. Go. I’m all right.”

  “But we were going to talk.” She cast

  a filthy look at the staircase.

  I knew she didn’t want to go down

  there. I couldn’t even blame her. But it

  was her job. Like it or (obviously) not.

  “We will. Later. Go.”

  With a huge sigh, she flounced down

  the stairs and back to work.

  Later was a lot later. Ron kept Dawna

  hopping all morning and I wound up

  having an unexpected visitor.

  * * *

  “I need you to find my daughter.”

  The sunlight streaming into my office

  through the balcony windows wasn’t

  being kind to the woman seated across

  the desk from me. Laka is from the Isle

  of Serenity, home of the Pacific sirens,

  and usually she looks lovely, thanks to

  her Polynesian coloring and features and

  a wide, easy smile that can light up a

  room. But she wasn’t smiling today and

  there were lines of worry on her face,

  which I’d never seen before. She was

  dressed simply and wore no makeup, her

  hair pulled back in a thick braid that

  hung down her back. She looked old and

  tired. Then again, she probably was.

  Sirens can live a long time, and if her

  teenage daughter, Okalani, was missing,

  Laka probably wasn’t getting much

  sleep.

  I weighed how to respond. I’d met

  Laka’s daughter a couple of years earlier

  when I’d been on Serenity on business.

  Okalani had a remarkable talent—she

  was a strong enough teleporter to be

  able to transport groups of people. She’d

  saved my life, and the lives of a lot of

  other people, using that gift. And while

  she had an attitude problem—what

  teenager doesn’t?—I’d kind of liked the

  kid.

  I wasn’t surprised she’d gone missing.

  From the first moment I’d met her, she’d

  made it very clear that she wanted to get