Worth Your While Read online

  "Have you heard from any of the sprite royalty?" Her voice had turned bitter.

  I had—they'd sent me condolence notes. I'd ripped them up and fed them to the fire in my fireplace. I hadn't heard anything since; I believe they knew what happened to the notes and had no desire to approach the Chancellor again about his dead wife—especially since they'd known all along she'd been marked for death.

  "We can talk about that tomorrow," I said. "When I see you. All right?"

  "How's Destiny?"

  "She took your ah, disappearance really hard. I was waiting to hear from you before telling her the good news."

  "Good? Huh. That remains to be seen."

  "This has been hard for everyone," I said. "Let me try to help you through this, all right? This is something we've never seen or experienced before, so we'll be charting new territory."

  "Yeah." She was back to tears and had added a pile of depression to the burden on her shoulders.

  "Do you have clothes to wear?" I asked, changing the subject.

  "A few things—sweats and stuff."

  "I'll have Mom pack a bag or two of your things—they're here at the house."

  "Do you have the pyramid?"

  I had no idea why she'd ask about that, but I did have it. "I do," I replied.

  "Can you bring it with you?"

  "Sure."

  "Thank you. I need to go."

  Her last words were barely a whisper before the call ended.

  Cassie

  Gina hadn't warned me about my missing wardrobe and personal things—she'd packed most of it up and shipped it to Parke in Seattle. She'd even tossed in the broken pyramid that Aunt Shelby sent to me.

  I had no idea I'd miss it as much or more than my clothes and personal things. Even Shelby's jewelry chest had been shipped to Parke. Maybe Destiny had gone through it—I hadn't been able.

  Shelby's home was nothing more than an empty lot, now, after my murderous relatives had burned it to the ground. I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel—well, untethered was the best description I could come up with.

  Perhaps I should be grateful I was alive, but I was still too numb to feel that emotion. Too angry, too—and betrayed. "Don't forget betrayed," I whispered to myself and wrapped my arms tightly about my waist.

  Rob—I'd loved him as a friend, when all along, he'd known.

  All the sprites had known.

  And they'd smiled and made nice all that time, knowing I was a dead woman—meant as a sacrifice to save them and multitudes of others from the evils of Shakkor Agdah.

  As for Will—I couldn't think of him without white-hot anger blazing through my veins and my fire demon threatening to reveal itself. So far, I'd kept it safely hidden, but that could change. I worried that I'd lost control—or would lose it if provoked even the slightest bit.

  I found myself stomping toward the kitchen—where Gina and I had fed those treasonous, ungrateful, murderous—I couldn't come up with an appropriate term to describe my anger at all of them.

  "I'd ask if you wanted some coffee," Cliff drawled, "But you look wide awake enough to burn down Atlanta."

  That brought me up short, just before I reached the massive kitchen counter. I blinked in confusion at Cliff for a few seconds before my brain engaged well enough to ask a question.

  "Why Atlanta?" I asked.

  "Because it's not in Alabama," he noted and sipped from his mug of fresh-brewed coffee. "Although some geographically-challenged individuals would probably argue about it. Sit down. If you want coffee, I'll make some for you."

  "It smells good," I admitted.

  "Then you'll have some."

  I took a seat at the kitchen table and waited while Cliff made a mug of coffee for me, thickly-laced with cream and sugar.

  "Are you back at the PD's office?" I asked as he set the mug in front of me and took a seat on the opposite side of the table.

  "No. They asked. I said I needed some time. There's a temporary in place right now, but it looks like I have a friend somewhere who's willing to let me have a sabbatical."

  "Who?" I asked, curious.

  "I figure it's somebody at the State Department, who knows somebody at the NSA," Cliff shrugged. "You bought us some clout somewhere with those guys."

  "I didn't do it by myself," I said and sipped my coffee. It was creamy and sweet and coffee. Like heaven-in-a-cup coffee.

  "No word on any Shakkor Agdah survivors—not yet, anyway, although I got the idea from Rob before I tossed him out of the house that there could be more in hiding," Cliff had ignored my comment.

  "Great. I'm really not in the mood to play sacrifice again, you know."

  "I know. If I'd guessed at it to begin with, I'd have fought all of them about it, too. There has to be another way to get a handle on this. No wonder there aren't any fire demons left. They fucking sacrificed or killed all of them."

  "Nothing like being a target." I did my best to hide the sarcasm. It showed, anyway. "I can't say whether it's a good or bad thing that I know about it, now."

  "When will the Chancellor arrive?"

  "Tomorrow afternoon. He says he'll get a rental."

  "Is he coming unguarded?" Cliff almost growled the words.

  "He didn't say."

  "I'll find out." He whipped out his cell and punched a number. Parke was on the line in seconds. Cliff put the call on speaker, so I could hear the conversation.

  "You better have guards with you." Cliff did growl, this time.

  "I'm bringing Daniel and a rock demon with me, and Jon is coming too, to handle business. We'll have a meeting with the new Prince while I'm there."

  "Sounds good. Just wanted to check."

  "Thanks. How's Cassie?"

  "Having coffee for the first time in three months. She likes the coffee. Her situation not so much."

  "Understood. I'll see you tomorrow."

  Cliff ended the call and pocketed the phone with a long sigh. "Can't be too careful," he said.

  Robin Newbourne

  "Why are you here?" I asked. Well, that was a stupid question. I knew why he'd come. The wizard had sent a message, asking me to meet him on neutral ground.

  Neutral. It meant away from the King of the Earth sprites.

  He'd chosen a coffee shop, where he sat at a window table, consuming a croissant and coffee as if it were a commonplace thing for him to do.

  "What should I call you?" I pulled out the empty chair at his table and sat, feeling weary and sick to death of the world. "Will is a bit—mundane, don't you think?"

  "Zedarius," he mumbled around a mouthful of food. "Will is better. It doesn't make me—stand out."

  "I know of one person who will always recognize what you are, no matter which name you use," I snapped.

  "Feeling it, too? What shall we call it—shame? Remorse? Self-loathing? All of the above?"

  "Theer-re-kibrus," I growled at him.

  "Ah. Wishing you were dead, eh?" He knew the sprite language, too. It didn't surprise me. "She'll speak to you before she'll ever speak to me again, and that could be never," he shrugged. "Want something to drink?"

  "I'm not in the mood to exchange pleasantries or share a beverage. I want to know how to get my friends back," I challenged.

  "There's something my mentor used to say to me," he said, before lifting his paper cup to drink.

  "What's that?"

  "Forgiveness is the richest of gifts, and one we do not deserve."

  "Thanks for nothing, then," I scooted the chair back to rise and walk away.

  "Start with a truce and a promise to help. Keep your promises, sprite—from now on, or you'll lose everything."

  "Seriously? That's what you have? Bastard." I did stand, then, and turned to walk away.

  I am farther from forgiveness than you will ever be, because of the shortsightedness of my kind, he silently informed me. Fire demons are nearly extinct, in a time when we need them more than ever. I—slept, when I should have been working to protect them.r />
  That's when I walked out—there was more than enough guilt of that sort to go around, and the sprites held their share of it.

  We'd been awake all that time, and we'd done nothing, too.

  Aimlessly, I wandered down a sidewalk in Tuscaloosa, my feet automatically steering me toward the courthouse. Construction crews were on-site, putting a new building together. Trucks and a mobile office were parked nearby, and would be until the work was completed.

  Across the street, at one of the churches, a couple was getting married.

  Must be Saturday afternoon—it was the best day of the week to have a wedding and still find parking for a crowd of people.

  It made me wonder how Cassie was doing—the wizard said in his initial message that she was alive—and angry.

  Because we'd used her. Led her on.

  Killed her.

  Except she didn't die.

  Will was just as surprised as anyone else. I would carry the message of Cassie's survival to the King, but it wasn't because I wanted to. Averill would be more than angry if I withheld the information.

  What he'd do with it, however, was anyone's guess. Likely, he'd extend the knowledge to the other sprite kingdoms, but I wanted to be left out of that.

  Mostly, I wanted to go back into hiding and feel sorry for myself, because my friends were no longer my friends.

  As if it weren't bad enough that communication between the Chancellor and the sprites had come to an abrupt halt. Cliff would call that poor planning on somebody's part.

  He'd add that it was poor timing, too, when we needed to stand together to eradicate the threat of Shakkor Agdah completely. We couldn't act in splintered groups; Shakkor Agdah would take us down, piece by piece.

  The only time we'd truly acted in concert was while Cassie was alive—and unaware that she'd become a sacrifice in the end. Perhaps it was guilt that drove the sprites to become allies—to assist the others who were hunting the evil that Shakkor Agdah had become. Not only had they regrouped, they'd learned to use new technology to attack us in ways we hadn't imagined.

  It didn't matter—what Cassie had become was an unexpected pivotal point, and we'd rallied around her.

  Someone else had become Prince of Alabama in her place, and Averill didn't care two cents for him—or any of the others. While effective enough, nobody would come together around water demon Ralph Greenville—that was a given.

  Cassie had pulled everyone into her wake, even those who'd refused to cooperate before. I sighed and considered how to break the news of her survival to Averill.

  Cassie

  "The burned remains of your aunt's house have been cleared away, and the insurance money paid out to Destiny, as your heir," Cliff informed me over a second cup of coffee. "Parke was working on the tech company shares last I heard, to put those in Destiny's name, too. I doubt that's been finalized, so you have that much left, at least."

  "Yay, me."

  "There is one advantage you have that you didn't before," Cliff pointed his coffee mug in my direction.

  "What's that?"

  "They think you're dead—Shakkor Agdah, and your father and grandfather. No fire demon has ever survived being exploited the way you were. I'd say that can be used to your advantage."

  "I'm sure a celebration was had somewhere."

  "Cassie, I'm not good with stuff like this, but I do know a werewolf shrink, if you want to talk to him. He's well aware of all things supernatural. Maybe a visit or two with him will help."

  "Is he in Alabama?"

  "Atlanta. Not a long trip by plane or car, by any stretch. I can get him here, or I'll go with you there, your choice."

  "You know, I wouldn't mind getting away from Alabama for a while."

  "Well, let me find a way to get us there—after the Chancellor arrives here, of course."

  "He has no hold on me—not only did I die, but the annulment is still in effect."

  "I doubt he'd try to stop you from seeing the doctor. I'm sure he realizes that this has taken a terrible toll on you. Frankly, the rest of us are still in disbelief over what happened, too."

  "I think I'd prefer to drive to Atlanta," I told Cliff. "If you're still willing to go with me."

  "I'll get you there, however you want to go."

  "It's funny how they leave a hole in you, isn't it?"

  "Who?"

  "Rob. Will. Even when you learn that they betrayed you, there's a part of you that doesn't want to let them go."

  "Love is a hard thing to turn off. It's the same when somebody dies—your love doesn't die with them. You keep loving them, even when they're gone. Eventually, you'll be able to deal with the scars. Trust me, Rob left a hole in me, too. We'd worked together for years, after all."

  "Has he tried to contact you?"

  "Maybe a couple of times. I refused to reply."

  "Then I hope they have holes, too," I mumbled.

  "I reckon they do. I found the original caretaker for the lawns and such; he says he never got the message from the previous owners, so Will must have intercepted it. The original is here, now, living in the boathouse like he did before."

  "The real William Berry?"

  "That would be him, only he goes by Bill and pretty much keeps to himself."

  "Thank goodness."

  "The ah, new Prince of Alabama isn't much to see or to speak of; although he does have a faction behind him. They sent his nomination to the Chancellor, and his name was the only one put forward. Not much of a contest, really; Parke couldn't find anything criminal in his background, and he'd served as a city councilman for six terms, so he has some kind of experience."

  "Ross had a faction behind him, too."

  "Greenville may be too afraid to step out of line; I think Parke laid it on pretty thick when the appointment was made. It's a cinch that he won't be able to bring all the sprites together for a common goal; only one person I know has ever pulled that off."

  "What about the prisons? Are they still planning to use the private ones? Shakkor Agdah has their fingerprints all over that."

  "We know that, but the human legislators in this state are a bit asinine in the matter.

  There are some who want it put to a vote, but that hasn't been decided, yet. That's one of the things I've been working on since you ah, were gone for three months. I've been tracking the money. I confess it hasn't been easy, and I usually end up with nothing tangible. The feds are working on it, too, so we've taken to sharing information."

  "They've probably routed it through so many banks, and had it laundered way too many times to make it obvious," I sighed.

  "Too true," Cliff conceded. "We keep hitting dead ends, all the while waiting for the new leader or leaders of Black Myth to let us know they're in charge, now."

  "They may be waiting to spring plan B on us, to announce their promotion," I said.

  "We worry about that, too. I wish we had information on who was killed three months ago, and how many died with him or her."

  "I think I may know somebody with that information," I said.

  "Who's that?"

  "Morton and Dalton King."

  Chapter 2

  Parke

  "She's right," I told Cliff over the phone. "Maybe we ought to step up our search for those two. I have a few contacts in Mexico that may help."

  "Wave a reward in their direction. I hear money talks loudly there."

  "I'll consider it. What's Cassie doing right now? Can she talk?"

  "Gina sent her to bed. I doubt she's gotten more than a few hours' sleep since she left New Orleans. There's something else, too. I know a werewolf psychiatrist in Atlanta. Cassie wants to see him. This has affected her significantly, and there's a lot to sort out."

  "Understood. How quickly can he see her?"

  "I can get her in after the full moon, if I pull a few strings."

  "Then pull away. I can get plane reservations for her."

  "She said she'd prefer to drive," Cliff said. "I offered to take
her."

  "Find a place in Atlanta, then. Something to rent that's suitable and has room for us to have an office."

  "You serious?"

  "I've cleared out my caseload; others will handle court appearances. I can stay for a month or more. Doesn't matter whether I'm in Alabama or Georgia to handle business."

  "I'll get on that now," Cliff said. "I have other contacts in Atlanta. I think we can find something that will work."

  "Good. I'll grab a rental at the airport, so you won't have to pick me up."

  "If it's all the same to you, I'd prefer to have two wolves waiting for you—for extra protection."

  "That's fine; they can tail us on the way to the house. I've put in a call to Trey and his boss; I'm asking for his help and maybe that of one or two other vamps."

  "Good idea. I'll make sure we can house vamps in Atlanta."

  "If nothing else, they'll have access to safe houses there."

  "True. I'll look for something with a basement or a cellar that can be locked from the inside. They prefer security, in my experience."

  "I agree. Do what you can, and we'll make arrangements for payment when I arrive."

  Cliff

  "We have two that are suitable," I handed printed pages, complete with photos of executive rentals, to Gina after getting off the phone with a friend in Atlanta. "We can rent either one—take a look at the pictures and tell me what you think."

  "Nice," she studied the exterior photos side by side.

  "Both are in the Temperance Acres addition of Buckhead."

  "Well, why don't we go for the one on Alys Drive with sixteen thousand square feet, then?" Gina swiftly ran through photos of the massive house, which included an olympic-size pool, a wine cellar, eight bedrooms and four living spaces, three of which could be converted to offices or extra bedrooms.

  "We can put the vamps in the wine cellar, it's big enough," I said, looking over Gina's shoulder.

  "I was thinking the same thing. They can lock themselves in, there are no windows and they don't need a bathroom. What's not to love?"