Gable pressed a hand to his chest. “Hotshot apologizing. Are pigs flying?”
“Elephants, actually.” I went along with his sarcasm.
He chuckled and flicked the kettle on. “Working together after all these years. This will go in the history books.”
“Shut up, smartass.” I couldn’t help but laugh, enjoying that we got along after years of derision.
Gable clapped me on the arm and got out four coffee mugs. “I appreciate the sentiment, mate. All is forgiven.” I was glad for the exoneration.
He pushed me a mug of tea, kept one for himself, and delivered Luna and his sister coffees.
“Hold on, I’ll get my genius biker friend on the line.” Gable got out his phone and dialed. “Getting slow, old man? You still haven’t gotten back to me about our sigil problem.” He put the call on speaker and set it on the kitchen counter, preparing a plate of cookies and pastries.
“Sorry, we’ve been dealing with hell at the club,” Castor muttered on the other end, sounding like he hadn’t slept either.
Gable stopped what he was doing. “Want me to call back?”
“No, it’s okay.” The biker groaned as if he stretched his body after sitting too long. “I had to go back in time for that one.”
His reply had me sitting straight and on the edge of my seat. Back in time? To ancient Egypt? Even I had to admit that ability was practical.
“Stumped you, did I?” Gable grabbed his phone, waved me over to the lounge and reclined and put his boots up on his coffee table, folding one leg over the other.
“You know me. I’m always up for a challenge.” I bet the biker was, working for the god of Wisdom. “Where’d you find this symbol, anyway?” Trust the biker to ask questions and draw out his answer.
“From a friend.” Gable grinned. Two could play that game.
“Well, your friend is holding the calling card to a very ancient and arcane power taught in ancient Egypt before being banished for exploitation.”
My bonded’s gaze came to me, and I clasped her hand, rubbing my thumb over it, being the one to ease her concerns.
“The symbol was discovered by an order of conjurers forgotten to time,” Castor began, “and when I say forgotten, I mean slaughtered to prevent their knowledge spreading, their documents crushed to dust, leaving no trace of them. I’m amazed you even found this.”
“What can I say? I’m a man of many talents.” Gable kept up his teasing ruse to protect Luna.
“Don’t think we’re not going to discuss where you got your hands on this,” the biker warned. “But that’s an in-person discussion.”
Gable looked at Luna. “I may have to take that one to my grave, mate.”
“Spoken like a male protecting his mate.” Castor didn’t hold it against his associate and began to explain what he knew. “Most philosophy holds that there are four elements—earth, air, fire, and water. But the most learned conjurers know six comprise the natural order. The forgotten conjurers believed this sixth element to be the most dangerous and powerful in all creation. That’s why they created a means to keep it under control.”
The djinn culture revolved around five elements. They never spoke of a sixth, and they were thousands of years more advanced than humans in spiritual and evolutionary beliefs when every one of them possessed magick, and only a handful of chosen humans were gifted it from the angels.
“Don’t keep us in suspense. What’s the sixth element?” Gable chided and raised his mug to his lips for a sip of tea.
“It’s not just any power.” Castor’s voice came out hard as stone. “It’s the ability to summon and command it at will. To shut down all other power, whomever may hold it, wherever it may be.”
Mine and Gable’s gaze flew straight to Luna, and she shrank back in her seat, nursing her mug in her palm.
“Could they do it from another realm?” Gable enquired.
“Yes.” Castor rustled in the background. “Listen, I’ve got to take care of something for my president. Did you want to discuss this later?”
“You bet. Thanks.”
“Adios.” Castor cut the call and the line went silent.
Gable held his phone for a few beats as if processing every word.