The thin smile that spread over her face told him he’d made the right decision. She pressed a cobalt-blue glass container the size and shape of a sugar packet into the palm of his hand. Her voice was feather soft as she struggled to draw her last breath. “Banshee.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
An explosion blew the alleyway door to the restaurant off its hinges. Shards of glass and wood, along with a cloud of stinging, blue-colored dust, ejected through the opening. Rowan grabbed the lifeless young woman in his arms, shielding Holly from the falling debris as a stony silence hung over the dark alley like the calm before a rising storm.
When the dust settled, Rowan eased his hold on her and listened. Silence spread over the once-lively restaurant. No doubt people were processing what had happened. He heard nervous laughter, and someone shouting that the explosion had been caused by a kitchen fire. Then more shouts for the band to resume playing music. The restaurant had returned to normal as though nothing had happened.
A kitchen accident? Unlikely. If Walter hadn’t died suddenly, or he wasn’t holding a dead woman, he might believe in the possibility of exploding potatoes. More plausible was that the killer had set off a device to destroy evidence that what Walter ate or drank had been poisoned.
Rowan slipped the glass container Holly had given him into his jacket and stood. He’d ask someone in the restaurant to start making burial arrangements for her while he hunted the assassin. With any luck, the killer might still be lurking around to make sure his plan to cover his tracks had succeeded.
This wasn’t just a cover-up of what had poisoned Walter. The restaurant was under attack. It made no sense. The Inferno had always been declared a haven for members of the magical community. Attacking it risked igniting the wrath of those who usually remained neutral during Wizard Wars.
But inside The Inferno, laughter turned into screams and seconds later its occupants flooded into the alley. Bleeding, with wide-eyed horror etched into every breath they took. Somecollapsed to the ground like ragdolls, blocking the exit, while others jumped over the dead bodies in a frantic race to escape.
His mind raced to Morgan. Had she arrived while he was in the alley and been trapped inside? He had no way to reach her. The bloody woman didn’t own a cell. He cursed himself for getting her involved and letting her out of his sight. He was slipping. If it had been anyone other than Morgan, he’d have hauled her sexy ass back to the island the first time he saw her.
The dense, never-ending flow of those fleeing prevented him from making any headway to the back door. He’d have to find another way inside.
Tapping into his speed, he draped the waitress over his shoulder and jumped to the fire escape. Waves of crazed restaurant-goers funneled into the alley as he climbed above the chaos. Part of him rationalized that he was saving the young woman from being trampled. Another part considered her a clue, a possible link to the mystery. Either way, he was not going to leave her behind.
He reached the third floor and kicked the door open to another level of retail shops. Muffled, panic-laced screams permeated through the floor below as people fought their way outside. Thoughts of Morgan trapped in The Inferno played repeatedly in his mind, fueling his rising concern, feeding his guilt.
In one fluid moment he laid Holly on a bench outside a pottery store and raced toward the stairwell he knew led to the restaurant’s delivery entrance.
He sped to the restaurant, where he found bodies littering the floor. Tables and chairs were overturned, some smashed beyond recognition. A few people, frozen in terror, stood sobbing, while others pushed their way toward the exits.
Renegade jogged around smashed glasses and plates and pulled Rowan back into the stairwell. “Rowan,” Renegadeshouted. “Thank the goddess! I thought you’d been caught in the nightmare.”
“Morgan?”
“So far, she hasn’t arrived. As you know, Morgan doesn’t have a cell, so I sent a text to a contact of mine to tell her that it’s not safe to meet us. Just waiting to make sure she got the message.”
Knowing she was not in the restaurant brought only momentary relief. At that moment, he made the decision to find Morgan rather than track down whoever had caused the carnage in the restaurant and killed Holly. This scenario was exactly the sort of thing the Talons and the Grey Council forbade. Attachments clouded duty. How many times had he heard that phrase? Hundreds of times? Thousands?
Bugger it. He would find Morgan first. It felt as though his very life depended on seeing for himself that she was okay.
Frustrated, he ground out his question as he motioned for Renegade to follow him back up the stairwell to where he’d left Holly. “Do you know what happened?”
“It’s a deathtrap downstairs. The smoke from the explosion triggered the sprinklers. I’m guessing the water was laced with poison, although it’s anyone’s guess what happened. When we first heard the sound, everyone froze, then an Earth Wizard made a joke about how a little smoke and water couldn’t kill immortals or the long-lived. Everyone laughed. Female vampires bet on how long it would take for the good-looking, tasty, firemen to arrive. Wizards complained. Standard stuff. Not much scares the magical community these days. They think they’re invincible.”
As Rowan climbed the stairs, he removed his glasses, cleaning dust from the lenses with his sleeve. “That’s our weakness. No sense of mortality.”
“That’s all changed now. A few seconds later there was a shift of some sort. Wizards started clawing at their eyes like they wanted to yank them out of the sockets.” Renegade shoved his hands in his pockets and shook his head slowly. “I’ve never seen anything like it. When several of them dropped dead where they stood, the laughter changed to panic. I tried to reach the alley and look for you, but I couldn’t get through the crowd. That’s when I decided to use the delivery stairwell and go around and check to make sure you were still alive.”
Rowan reached the third floor and held the door for Renegade. “Weird about the eyes, but one thing’s for certain. This was a well-planned attack, a declaration of war. The end game is a question mark, as is the person or persons behind the attack. My guess is that if we find out who is behind it, we’ll have our motive.”
“This was a targeted attack. Only those with Wizard blood were affected. That’s why the vamps and other magical people, and I, weren’t harmed. Was the waitress any help?”
“She was killed with a poisoned silver arrow and died before she could tell me much. She gave me a packet of the poison. The last word she spoke was ‘Banshee.’ I laid her down over here.”
Renegade whistled low as he followed Rowan. “Holly was Fae and Irish. They claim they see the banshee of death before they die. Might not be connected. The assassin could be an Air Wizard. Arrows are their trademark weapon.”
“Or a mercenary. Or someone wanting to frame Air Wizards.”
“I don’t like any of the choices.”
“Me either.” Rowan reached the place where he’d left the waitress. The bench was vacant. He swore under his breath. “She’s gone.”
