Crimson Dawn (12 page)

She talked the entire way up the elevator and didn't hang up until we were back in out room. Once we got there, she opened my laptop and pulled up her email. The loud "YES" was a sure-fire indication that she had found what she had been looking for.

"VAL!” She yelled loud enough to bust my eardrums. Whatever was in that email had better be important! She pulled up a word processing program and opened a file.

"Last night my eyes, now my ears. Are your trying to maim me for some reason?"

She pulled me down to my knees, so I was eye level with the computer screen, "Can the whining, Valeria, this is important. I have a copy of the book Sophie showed us. It’s very rare, protected, kept under guard by our scholars at home.”

She pulled up various pages as she talked, “Luckily, Sayvar is one of the scholars that have access to the vaults. He's chronicling Sidhe life in Tire Nam Beo, that's why he's here now.” She pointed to the pages she had displayed on the screen, "I'm Royal, that's the only reason I gained access to it so quickly."

"These pages are the ones that are most likely to be of interest to Tristan. Let me tell you, this magic has not been practiced or invoked in the gods know how long." I looked at the pages and found the same dialect that was on the one in Sophie's possession. "What am I reading, Ire? I have no idea what I'm looking at."

She winced and shook her head. "Sorry I forgot, and I can’t read it aloud, the power is in the words themselves, not in the speaker. That‘s what makes ancient magic so dangerous.” She tapped the screen again with a huge grin on her face. "Just the knowledge of knowing what incantations are at Tristan’s disposal is important. We have a starting point for protecting ourselves. It also gives us a hint at the Gullah’s ancestry."

Now we were getting somewhere! If we knew what power was running through their veins, we could find the element to counter it. When the founder created the elementals to protect the earth, he gave them one rule to follow for their creations. Each creation must have a specific weakness so that Humans can defend themselves from the stronger creations if need be. Once the demons and the Djin turned out to be such disappointments, the founder believed the Humans needed a failsafe if any of the Elementals turned on them. They didn't have that with the demons and the Djin.

Silver for the Lycanthropes, iron for the Fae, wood for Vampires, blah blah blah, each Extra has a weakness. My hope was fleeting. Irulan’s next words were a shot to the gut. "Demons, Demon Kin, and the Djin.” She connected a printer and began printing out the manuscript. "If what Sayvar says is correct then this book is an Elemental translation of a book from one of those three.”

Everything clicked into place - the familiarity of the amulets, Descantes presence in Charleston, the book in Sophie's possession. I said it aloud without even realizing it. Irulan looked up to watch me pull Sophie's amulet from one pocket and Descantes from another. I dropped them both on the table next to the computer and reached back to pull the locator from my neck.

The writing on both amulets was the same type. "Djin,” I said numbly, "The Gullah are directly descended from the Djin.” Tristan was arming himself with the blood of Descantes' descendants. They had to be his, their people had declined to so few in numbers they didn't frequent this plane any longer. The only other rumors of Djin on this plane that I had heard originated in India and Russia.

The Djin had no weaknesses known to modern Extras, and their power was almost limitless. Their bonds of servitude are what kept them in check. As far as I knew, Descantes was the only free Djin in existence. His descendants would potentially share almost the same level of power he had, and Tristan was trying to acquire that power boost permanently. We were so fucked.

CHAPTER EIGHT

I pulled my iPhone from my pocket and dialed Marcus's number. I had a few choice words for my fearless leader.

He answered on the first ring and I wasted no time laying into him. "Why in the hell did you not tell me that the C.O. here was a Djin, Marcus? A friggin’ Djin!"

Marcus's voice was the epitome of calm when he spoke. "Sentinel C.O.s must maintain their anonymity, Trumaine. And I’m sure you’re aware that divulging that information is against company policy."

By now, I was pacing back and forth in front of the open blinds, oblivious to the stinging light that was coming into the room. "Screw policy, Marcus, the man's a goddamn ancient. I need to know every possible factor when I'm working a case. Maybe if I had known ahead of time, I wouldn't feel so blindsided by the fact that the Gullah that drew Tristan here descended from Descantes."

Silence is far from golden at times. Listening to the quiet line was downright painful. I knew that Marcus was mentally kicking himself right about now, as well he should be. "Does Descantes know you're aware of this?"

See another reason I loved having Marcus as a C.O.. No matter how farfetched my conclusions seemed, he always trusted them without question. "No, I just found out. Irulan and I had an interesting conversation with a Gullah Mambo. She wasn't forthcoming with their origins, but she showed us a nifty little spell book that Irulan informs me could only be of Demon, Demon Kin, or Djin origin."

Marcus huffed on the other line, and I could hear the keys on his keyboard begin to click away. “Spell book, huh. I'm pulling up the regional personnel directory now. Let's find out a little more about Descantes."

I listened to his keyboard until a burning sensation in my arm caught my attention. I looked down and saw sun burns on my arm in neat little rows. I walked over to the window and pressed the button to close the sun blockers. Once I shut the sun out, automatic lighting came on, bathing the room in the darkness of black lights...

"Thanks, Marcus, the lights are a godsend.” I sat down on the edge of a bed, relaxed my control, and listened to the sound of Marcus's keyboard hoping he would find something useful.

"Ahmad Jhahule Descantes, race Djin, purported age six thousand sixty nine, released from the bonds of servitude fifteen hundred years ago by a Persian prince named..."

"Saragon," I interrupted. "Tell me something I don't know. I found all that out talking to the man. He's apparently also very buddy-buddy with the men of my family."

"Yeah, that's in here also. But it looks like that only applies to your grandfather and great-grandfather. Seems your father didn't want anything to do with the man."

More clicks then Marcus started again. "Up until your father became active CEO for Trumaine Enterprises, it looks like Descantes had his hands in a lot of the company's dealings."

That was interesting. My father was a typical Vampire in many ways. He prided himself on the power he possessed. Having a Djin as a business partner would seem to have given him even more supremacy. "This isn't coincidence, Trumaine," Marcus voiced exactly what was on my mind. "I've got half a mind to call your ass back to Charlotte right now. There are too many factors at play for my peace of mind."

"We're cops, Marcus, when you find peace of mind, let me know, and we'll all throw a block party. Until then, I've got a job to do. The more I find out, the more effectively I can do it.”

Marcus was rattled, and that was a hard task to accomplish. There was no way in hell he would have mentioned pulling me off a case unless he was scared for my life. "Get on the phone with your father and find out what you can about Descantes. I'm going to see what I can dig up here. Tell Irulan good work.” I was just about to end the call when I heard him bark one last statement. "Put the locator back on, Trumaine, no sense in letting on we've found out his secret.” Damn, how in the hell did he know I'd taken it off.

Marcus didn't waste time with a goodbye. The click of the line going dead dismissed me. I considered calling my father like Marcus suggested for all of maybe two seconds. Instead, I called my brother Constantine hoping I would catch him with his head out of a book.

I had to let the phone ring like thirty times, but he finally answered, "What's up, wooly-booger?"

God, I hated that name. "I'm ninety-eight years old for Christ sake, please.” My eldest brothers booming laughter ran through the connection and brought a slight smile to my face. "I'm calling in a working capacity, Constantine. I need to pick that big, beautiful brain of yours about your favorite subject."

I could feel the mood shift over the phone. My brother took his work very seriously, any mention of it and he was all business. "How can I help you, Val?"

I stole a glance at Irulan still wrapped up in the pages on the computer. "I'm sure you know by now about the hunt I'm on.”

Constantine's voice had a slight edge when he answered me. "The entire family knows, and a lot of us want to hang that mongrel C.O. of yours up by his balls and use him for a piñata. He had no right placing you in this position.”

Marcus, the one that put me in this position? Yeah, OK. The real reason I didn't turn down this case was our father, but it looked as if he wanted to keep that bit of information to himself. Whatever. "Look brother I don't have time for the blame game, this is my job E.O.D. Now can we get to the reason I called you?”

Some of the bite left Constantine's voice, "As you were saying."

"What do you know about the Djin and their descendants?"

Constantine laughed dryly on the other end of the line, "Well for one thing, little sister, the Djin have no descendants to speak of. They're a dying race because of their jacked up superiority complexes. No other species was good enough to mix with their sainted bloodlines."

"So you think. I'm looking at proof that at least one Extras race shares bloodlines with the Djin."

I could almost see Constantine jump up and start pacing in his small office, "What proof?"

"A spell book that belongs to an informant. A book that Irulan says is an elemental translation from a text that was originally Djin, Demon, or Demon Kin. My informant claims the book was gifted to her clan by their ancestor."

I heard him come to a stop, "So this informant told you the book was Djin in origin."

"Not in so many words, I told you, Irulan..." I didn't get to finish my sentence before he cut me off.

"So why can't the book be a Demon tome?"

"Because, Doubting Thomas, there is a Djin living in this very city. How coincidental is that?” Total silence. I had him hook, line, and sinker.

"It's not,” he gruffly admitted. "There are not enough Djin on this plane for it to be a chance."

I caught the sound of him tossing books around and unzipping a bag. "Where are you, Valeria? I'm on my way. This could be the break I need in my research.”

"Sorry, Constantine, not gonna happen. I'm on a case. I don't need the eyes of the academic world focused on this right now."

I pulled the phone away from my ear until he finished his tirade of profanity. "I hope you don't kiss mother with that mouth.”

"Fuck you, Val. you can't just drop something like this in my lap and leave me hanging. You know how important my work is to me.”

"Yeah, well you know how important mine is to me. I'm not leaving you hanging, Constantine. When this is over, I'll be more than happy to give you my informant's name, with her permission of course."

He scoffed on the other end, "Not good enough and you know it."

My brother was going to kill me when I got home. "Sorry, it's going to have to be. I will tell you this, the informant is a she, and she happens to be an anthropologist too."

I hung up just as he started cursing again. Irulan finished her conversation just as I did my own, "Constantine just confirmed our thinking, Irulan. There's no way the Gullah aren't Descantes descendants.

"Very razor indeed,” she replied as she waved me back over to the computer and pointed to the screen. "I've got a rough translation of one incantation. Sayvar says speaking it out of the original tongue should prove it powerless, but that's not too important, the real zinger is what it's for."

A few mouse clicks and a colorful mosaic filled the computer screen. "The copy in our archives is much more detailed and illustrated. See the figure in the center, it represents some ancient power, or more precisely the return of an ancient power,” she pointed to what looked like a goblet of blood. "This is the key; ‘The Cup of Many’ down in the corner is the Vessel.” I saw the small shape of another person in one corner.