Even The Vampires Get The Blues

Clare stopped in front of me, striking a dramatic pose with her hand to her throat as she stared at me in horror. Behind her, Finn emerged from her room, tucking his shirttail into his pants. He, too, froze when he saw me, quickly turning his gaze to Paen.

'I turned Sam,' my lover said simply, sitting down next to me. 'The man who had been trying to kill her was finally successful. Or he would have been if I hadn't turned her.'

I gave both startled faces in front of me a wan smile, waving Paen on when he offered to tell the recent events.

'We will find your soul,' Clare promised when he was done, my hand clasped between hers as she sat at my feet, the remains of a mostly eaten rose on her lap. 'I have absolutely no doubt that we'll find it. Is there a soul repository of some sort?'

That last bit was addressed to Paen. He shook his head. 'Not as such. Her soul exists still, but it is held in the Akasha.'

'Akasha?' Clare asked, puzzled.

'Limbo,' I said, my voice still husky. 'You know the Akasha—it's the place where faeries are sent as punishment.'

The glare she shot me was fulminating but short-lived. 'How do we find Sam's soul?' she asked Paen. 'Do we just go to this Akasha limbo place?'

'You could go, but Sam couldn't, and only she or I could reclaim her soul.'

'Then you go get it for her,' Clare ordered, giving my hand another supportive squeeze. 'We'll wait for you.'

Paen rubbed a hand over his face. He was tired and hungry, facts I knew without even touching him. But his light and warmth drew me. His arm wrapped around me, holding me tight as I snuggled up against him, soaking in his heat with a relieved sigh. 'It's not that easy. Beings of dark origins cannot enter the Akasha.'

'Sam isn't dark—she's an elf, a sun elf,' Clare pointed out.

'She was. She's Moravian now, and more importantly, soulless. All beings without a soul are by their nature dark. She can't enter the Akasha unless she has a soul, and she can't get her soul unless she can enter the Akasha.'

I pushed myself tighter against him, half wishing I could crawl inside him to where that glorious soul glowed with life and love and everything that had been stripped from me.

'You can get it, then,' Clare said, her face taking on a stubborn look. 'You have a soul now, so you can enter this Akasha.'

Paen shook his head. 'I have a soul, but my origins are still dark. I was born without a soul—I will always be tainted by that, at least so far as the Akasha is concerned. I am forbidden entrance.'

'Well then, what are we going to do?' she wailed, her big blue eyes swimming with tears. I felt mildly upset on her behalf. She seemed so distraught.

'Tell her about your project,' Finn said, taking a seat in the chair opposite. Clare abandoned me for him, curling up in his lap with a distressed look on her face.

'I've spent the last forty or so years researching a rumor I heard long ago. It concerned a manuscript that detailed the origins of the immortal races.'

I pulled back enough to look up at Paen, surprised by the words that echoed ones I'd heard not so many hours before.

'What does that have to do with recovering Sam's soul?' Clare asked.

Paen's eyes were bright with determination. 'Somewhere in the information about the origins of the Dark Ones are details concerning how a soul may be restored without the means of a Beloved. What would work in that case for a Dark One should also work for Sam.'

'Are you sure this is a manuscript?' I asked, a vague sense of curiosity flickering inside me. 'Not a statue?'

'No, it's a manuscript. Sixteenth century. It was named Simia Gestor Coda because the mage who wrote it supposedly had a fascination with monkeys.'

'But,' I said, my mind grinding to a halt, 'I know about the Coda.'

'What?' Paen whirled around to stare at me. 'How?'

'It's the manuscript Owen Race hired us to find. He said it was stolen from his house.'

Paen swore passionately. 'I've been searching for it for almost forty years!'

'Is anyone else curious about the coincidences here?' I asked. 'The Jilin God—'

'Is a statue of a monkey, yes,' Paen answered. 'I noticed that as you have, but the two are separate objects, related only by the fact that both share a common theme.'

'More common than you know,' I said, then told him what I had learned on my first trip to Caspar's house.

He was pacing the small area in our living room by the time I finished. 'Why didn't you tell me this before?'

I held up my hand and ticked off the reasons. 'Trapped in the beyond, lost the bird statue, meeting with seer, murdered by Pilar, resurrection. Besides, you never asked me.'

He glared at me. I shrugged. 'All right, that wasn't fair, but to be honest, there has been so much going on, I didn't think of telling you about an item I'm trying to find for another client.'

'Owen Race,' Paen said as he paced by me.

'Yes.'

'The same man who was said to know where the Jilin God was.'

'Yes. Oh.' I frowned as I glanced up at him. 'You think he's involved with Pilar, don't you?'

'It makes sense that he could well be involved, yes.'

'But you said Pilar was in the employ of Caspar Green,' Finn pointed out. Clare nibbled on a rose leaf.

'Yes, but Caspar wanted the statue at all costs,' I said, pieces of the puzzle starting to slide together. At least a few of them were. 'Pilar knew I had the bird statue, but he evidently didn't tell Caspar that.'

'He was acting on his own,' Finn said, nodding.

'Or on someone else's behalf,' Paen corrected.

'Like Owen Race's,' I said.

'He's a double agent?' Clare asked, her eyes huge. She turned to Finn. 'This is so exciting! It's just like a spy movie!'

'The Jilin statue and the manuscript are clearly tied together,' I said slowly, watching Paen as he paced. He was thinking like mad, too. 'You never heard reference to a statue when you researched the manuscript?'

'No, never. That's why I'm so surprised now—I've never seen mention of any other object in connection to it. But the coincidences are too striking to not mean something. Just what, though, I'm afraid I don't know.'

'Mr. Race might know how they're related.'

'Yes, he may well. He seems to be the mysterious figure behind a number of things,' Paen said.

I glanced at the clock. 'It's a little after two—is that too early to drop in on him?' I asked the room in general.

'I think we should,' Clare said, getting off Finn's lap. 'Right now! Client or not, it would serve him right if he's been hiding something from us.'

'The sooner we can talk to him—and get the statue back—the better for Sam and Mum,' Finn said, getting to his feet as well. 'I say let's do it.'

'No. Sam needs rest,' Paen declared, stopping in front of me. I looked up to his face. His eyes were glittering brightly, and not just with concern. 'She's been through hell tonight. A few hours' rest won't make a difference to Mum or the Coda, but will do much to help Sam recover.'

His scent teased me almost as much as his warmth and light attracted me. I got to my feet with languid grace that was only partially due to weakness, a slow smile on my lips. 'That sounds like an excellent idea.'

'But—' Finn started to protest.

Paen's hand was warm on my back as he gave me a gentle shove toward my bedroom. 'Sam needs time,' he said. 'We owe her that much.'

The door to my bedroom closed on Finn's protests. I flipped on the light and frowned. The jungle of plants that inhabited my room looked more like a wasteland blighted by some horrific pesticide. Everywhere I looked