Chapter Twenty

Melusine rubbed the tip of her finger, the finger that had touched a Child of Fire. She was sure of it. She looked up at the painting of Glastonbury Tor. Those stupid druids banished her from her home, cutting her off from the magic her mother taught her how to use. Closing her eyes, she tried to remember the feeling of Earth magic flowing through her body but it had been too long.

Cartazonon had found her dying, gasping for life, much like the last gnome shaking in the cage behind her. Cartazonon had talked to her for a while then offered to help. She shivered. She still remembered the bitter, icy feel of his foreign magic invading her. Earth magic pulsed with warmth, but the girl she’d touched at the circus—she felt hot.

Half of her library lay strewn about the room as she researched the descendants of the Phoenix King and Queen. Their powers were formidable, and she needed one of them. They would open the door to Avalon, and she would have access to enough power to make Cartazonon unnecessary.

Three sharp knocks.

“Come in Miss Thurston.”

“The thugs you hired called in. They say they have found the weakest of the group. So far the others haven’t left her alone. But they will grab her as soon as they’re able to.”

Melusine smiled. “Perfect. Make sure they know I’m not worried about getting it done quickly. I want it done right. We’ll only have one shot at this.”

“Of course,” said Miss Thurston. “I already made sure they understood.”

“You're such a treasure,” Melusine said. I’m going to have to find a way to keep her with me.

* * *

“Now, Lee, don’t pout,” Cartazonon said. “We can come back soon.”

Lee’s scarred face frowned. “I’m not pouting. I don’t think they're caring for the horses properly.”

“I have yet to find anyone that meets your standards in the past three hundred years.” Cartazonon picked up his phone.

Lee grunted. “I have a new report. Melusine seems to be watching some circus people. But the walk-ins can’t figure out why, they don’t feel anything. So it’s possible she wants them for their talent.”

“She’s such a collector.”

“Speaking of which, I won the auction for the unicorn figure carved out of ivory.”

“Lee, I can always count on you.”

“I live to serve.”

Cartazonon chuckled. “So when do we arrive in London?”

“On the twenty-first, sir.”

“The darkest night of the year—that goes well with my evil plans.”

Lee smirked. “Better than the handlebar mustache you used to spend so much time waxing.”

“I looked good in that mustache.”

Lee chose to keep silent.

“Who is Peterson? He’s quitting due to family problems,” Cartazonon said reading his email.

“He works in the Chicago office. His wife has cancer and needs care. He is in R and D.”

“Wait, is he the one working on the Tesla coil project?”

Lee nodded. “Yes.”

“Oh, no. That’s not going to happen. Send someone from HR to find out what he needs and give it to him. He can work half days, get him a nurse, increase his salary, set him up to work from home, whatever. And then have HR go over our insurance and benefits and find out how this happened and fix it for everyone.”

“It will be done,” Lee said.