The Glamourist (The Vine Witch #2)(68)
Before she could muster the courage to call out, the catacombs shook with a violent rumble. Moments later a cloud of dust bloomed out of the darkness behind her. The air filled with a ghastly green haze. It had to be him. Blasting through the walls with that sickly green fire of his. She’d left him empty-handed, and now he was coming for her.
Yvette felt her way around the walls, searching for another way out, a hole or crevice she could slip through, but there was nothing, only the bars. There was no time to call out and hope someone had a key. She’d have to make the jump through the bars. Either that or face that powder-sniffing fiend and his boot-licking minions. She stood with her back against the wall and summoned her magic, calling it forward, asking the All Knowing for the power to withstand the pain.
She shimmered and fizzed, her body transforming once again into glittery dust as she willed her body toward the iron and her only chance at freedom. If only the bars were a little wider apart. If only the metal didn’t burn so hot.
Behind her a magical orb of green light emerged from deep inside the tunnel. Yvette pushed against the resistance, forcing herself to complete the transformation. She squeezed her eyes shut, concentrating on seeing her body on the other side of the gate. Searing heat pressed against her as her ethereal body slid between the fiery metal. She gasped at the pain, uncertain she could endure another second. She dared to open her eyes. Only halfway through! If she stopped now, she’d sizzle to death. The green orb grew nearer even as a man’s voice from farther back in the tunnel shouted. Yvette summoned an absolute will to survive and squeezed through to the other side, the pain nearly stealing the breath out of her with its intensity.
A woman ran down the stairs, her high heels clicking on the wooden steps. She gaped at the still effervescing young woman collapsed on the stone floor, turned in the direction of the shouting and the green light coming from the catacombs, then quick as lightning scooped up a handful of cellar dirt. “Maze of darkness, plague and bones. There’s nothing to see but iron and stones,” she said and blew the dirt into the air.
Just as the green light threatened to explode into the end of the tunnel, bringing the wrath of the madman and his henchmen, the air filled with the scent of lemon verbena. The bars wavered as if seen through a heat wave, and the echo of running feet faded. But before the sound died out completely, Yvette heard what the man had been shouting as he ran to catch up.
Rings had found the book and was ready to bargain. For her.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Faint lamplight shone through an opening in the curtains as the cabriolet pulled up in front of Alexandre’s curiosity shop.
“What a marvelous location.” Marion stepped out of the carriage, her eyes lit up from the adventure of slumming it in the narrow back lanes of the city. “Now, where is this witch friend of yours?”
“This way.” Elena took Jean-Paul’s hand when offered. She knocked three times on the shop door, and the old man let them in. “My fiancé and his mother,” she explained when his bushy brows shot up over the rims of his pince-nez.
“How do you do.” Marion extended her hand.
Elena could tell by the way Alexandre stalled after their introductions that he had found the trace of an aura around Marion. Perhaps there was a shadow of witch blood running through the woman from some distant great-grandmother after all.
“Enchanté, madame. Do come in.” Alexandre extended his arm toward the shop. “Welcome,” he said to Jean-Paul, shaking his hand. “I’m afraid we’re in the middle of a situation, but do make yourself at home.”
“The book’s well and truly gone?” Elena hoped the old man might have merely misplaced it.
“It’s gone. And that’s not all. The young scoundrel stole a revolver as well.”
“Enchanted?”
“Almost certainly.”
Elena closed her eyes in disbelief. “He’ll get himself killed one way or another before the night is through.”
“I’m sorry, did you say the gun was enchanted?” Marion wore the most delightful smile at learning such a thing was even possible. “What then does it do?”
“Let us hope we don’t find out,” Alexandre replied and escorted the curious mortal to sit in the overstuffed chair beside the front counter.
“Give me a moment.” Elena removed her hat and set it aside. She was going to need all her concentration if she were to find the young man based on their brief acquaintance. “I’m going to try and get a location on Henri,” she said. “I only hope we can find him before he trades that book away.”
“How are you going to do that, dear?” Marion nearly sprang out of her chair when inspiration struck. “Oh, are you a medium as well?”
“She’s quite well endowed with the gift of shadow vision, madame,” Alexandre explained, “but her aura suggests it does not extend to necromancy. Lucky thing, that.”
Jean-Paul took a step back and whispered, “Maman, let her concentrate.”
Marion made a motion of locking her lips, then grinned and waggled an eyebrow in anticipation.
Elena closed her eyes and concentrated on the stone she’d given Henri. If it was still in his possession, she might be able to track it. Her mental vision narrowed until she felt herself go under, reaching, stretching to find a connection with the young man. When nothing surfaced, she tried visualizing his face, but without an emotional connection to draw her in, as there had been when she’d been desperate once before to find Jean-Paul, it was no use. The young man may have thrown the stone in the gutter for all she knew. She reeled herself back in and shook her head.