Suzanne Johnson - Elysian Fields

Oh my God. He was delusional. “You’re forgetting one thing. I hate you.”

He smiled. “You’re just angry right now. I think you’re beautiful.”

I looked at Rand. He was flat-out gorgeous, blackening eye and all. “I think you’re beautiful too, but it doesn’t change the fact that I hate you. Go home. I need some sleep.”

“Should I move in with you? Or would you rather move in with me?”

Oh, hell no. “Go home.”

He ignored me. Again. “Tell me about the Axeman. Maybe I can help.”

I stood up and walked around the living room, making my circuitous way to the guest room door where my friend Charlie waited. “Well, it looks like I’m his target now. He was acting on his own at first, but he seems to have come under the control of a necromancer. Can elves do necromancy?” I didn’t have that many personal enemies, but every member of the Synod qualified.

Rand shook his head. “That’s dark wizard’s magic. Our magic has nothing to do with the dead.”

No, they only dealt in mental torture. “Then I don’t see how you can help. I do appreciate that you found a way to fix the loup- garou problem, but I’m done for tonight. Go home.”

“I think I should stay here and protect—”

I grabbed Charlie and whipped around, pointing it at him. “Get the hell out of my house.”

He rose to his feet in a fluid, graceful motion. “You wouldn’t.”

“No?” I fed energy into the staff and sent out a short blast of fire that melted one leg of my lawn chair. Adrian would have been so proud—that was exactly what I was aiming for. Rand yelped and jumped aside. “Are you insane?”

I assumed my sweetest voice. “Get used to it, honey. Now, please go home.”

He shook his head as he stalked to the front door. “Obviously, you need to calm down. If you need me, you only have to think something at me.”

“Stay out of my head.”

“Night, Dru.”

And don’t call me Dru! I shouted at him mentally after he closed the door behind him.

I shuffled into the small office/guest room, pulling aside the curtain to see if the lights were on in Alex’s house. It was dark. With Jake absent, he might go to the Gator to unwind and calm down. At least I hope he calmed down.

Sebastian leapt onto the daybed and I sat next to him, scratching behind his black ears. He purred and head-butted my arm. I must be giving off a really pathetic vibe.

“Got good news and bad news, my friend.” He fixed his crossed blue eyes on me and flicked an ear. “Good news is, I’m not going to turn into a wolf and have you for Sunday dinner. Bad news is, you’ve got a new daddy and he’s an elf.”

Damage control is hard to do from a deep freeze, and both Alex and Eugenie had me on ice. I’d left voice mails for both of them as soon as I woke up mid-morning. Adrian had left a message that he was tied up in Edinburgh for at least another day, so I had time on my hands.

I was sick to death of thinking about the annoying elf across the street, and totally out of ideas on the Axeman case. The Times-Pic reporter was still in critical condition and hadn’t regained consciousness. I wasn’t sure what help she could be, anyway. I knew who the attacker was. I just didn’t know the motive of his necromantic accomplice.

What I could do with my free morning was work on my skills with Charlie. I never knew when I might need to melt another lawn chair.

Two hours later, I parked the Pathfinder in my semi-hidden spot near the back side of Six Flags, with Rene Delachaise riding shotgun. Where the chaos of my life frustrated Alex, it amused Rene. Plus, he needed a distraction. Deer and small game–hunting season was in full swing, but he’d always hunted with Robert. He needed an escape from his grief over his lost twin.

So he’d readily agreed to hang out and play bodyguard again. While I hated being the little woman who called on the guy to protect her, it would be stupid to ignore the fact that I was being targeted by a maniac. Rene wasn’t a big guy, but he was smart, strong, and enjoyed a good fight.

I left my backpack in the SUV and enacted a camouflage charm in case anyone drove by. We slipped inside the fence, and Rene whistled as he took in the surreal view. “First time I been out here, wizard. This is some crazy shit.”

“That pretty much describes my life these days.” I decided to practice first on Jean Lafitte’s Pirate Ship, then move to the shooting range figures. Rene sat on a bench to watch.

Aiming at the P in pirate, I channeled a small burst of my magic into the staff and promptly fell on my butt on the concrete. A hole burned in what was now Jean Lafitte’s irate Ship . If there hadn’t been black smoke still pouring from the former P, I’d have attributed the thick red cable of fire that had zoomed from the tip of the staff to wishful thinking.

Rene walked over and pulled me to my feet. “That was pretty powerful stuff, babe. Is your magic getting stronger or is it because of your new husband?”

I’d told Rene about the bonding, figuring he’d be the person least likely to judge me. I’d been right; he laughed at me. A lot. Ridicule I could handle.

“The elf is not my husband, but yeah, I’m thinking the bonding has ramped up my ability to use the staff.” Not only had I hit my target, but I’d used very little of my own physical magic. It had been a play shot. When I melted the chair last night, it hadn’t been this effortless but maybe the bonding had taken a few hours to kick in.

Now I could kick some serious butt with this thing. Although a lifelong bond with Rand seemed a high price to pay for butt-kicking.

Rene tensed. “We got company, babe. You know that car?” A black sedan had stopped near the turnstiles, its windows tinted so dark I couldn’t see who sat inside. Kind of conservative for gangstas; kind of upscale for cops.

Whoever it was, we weren’t authorized to be here. “We better get back to the Pathfinder.”

I turned toward the fence, but after a few steps realized Rene hadn’t moved.

I turned to find him still watching the car. The passenger door of the sedan opened slowly, and a large, bulky figure emerged. It was a profile I’d seen a couple of days ago in my own library summoning circle. Except this time, the Axeman carried his ax.

“Shit, it’s the Axeman.” Rene finally realized we had a bigger problem than a trespassing fine. “Let’s go!”

We took off, but the killer moved with surprising speed for an oversize dead guy. I shot at him with the staff, but my aim was back to its normal awfulness. I’d never practiced shooting over my shoulder while running for my life.

Rene, however, was better prepared. He’d pulled a pistol from somewhere, stopped, and wheeled around long enough to fire two rounds. The Axeman shouted in anger and clutched his upper arm, but didn’t stop running.

“Come on!” Rene and I raced across the entrance to the midway, looking for a hiding place while, behind my eyes, a nonstop reel played of the blood-soaked bed in the reporter’s house. My stomach cramped as fear mixed with the gumbo we’d had for lunch.

If we could make him look for us, I could zap him with the staff from a safe position. Rene could shoot him again to slow him down and give me a good target.

“Over here.” Spotting an open door in the center of the flying chairs carousel, we darted for it and slipped inside. Rene pushed me behind him and tugged the metal door closed except for an inch so we could see out. The enclosure, once filled with the mechanical equipment that powered the ride, smelled of dried mold spores and rust, and I pinched my nose to avoid sneezing. My heart pounded so hard and fast it was visible in the erratic rise and fall of my sweater. If Rene was scared, he didn’t show it.