by T. G. Ayer
It crackled within my grasp, tugging me toward the entrance to a large hall filled with soldiers; eating, drinking and fighting according to their personal preferences.
I paused on the threshold and studied the demons gathered inside, seated on chairs eating, laughing, and even throwing food at each other. Along the left wall, a line of soldiers stood at attention. The one closest to me turned to look straight at my face.
The recognition in his eyes sent a flash of cold fear down the back of my spine.
Had he seen me?
I remained as still as possible and watched him as he stared back at me. Frowning, I concentrated on his eyes, reluctantly admitting that he was familiar to me.
Samuel’s biofeedback pulsed against my touch, and I took a step into the room feeling it pull me in the direction of the guard.
He stared at me with an intensity that lifted the hair on the back of my neck.
I stepped further into the room, but he stiffened and shook his head slightly, giving me a warning glare.
I frowned. Why would one of the demons be warning me off?
I stood transfixed, as it hit me.
Samuel?
Was it possible that Samuel was the guard I was wasting precious time gaping at?
As with all the other soldiers, he was dressed in patchwork leather, and wore a sword at his waist. The only difference with him was his face was covered in a patchwork leather helmet, with a ragged pair of holes for his eyes.
Before I could think of anything further, the sound of boot-heels thudding on the stone floor had me spinning on my heel.
A cloaked hooded figure walked toward me, right in my path of escape. Stepping back, I assessed my situation. I had nowhere to go, and at least one of the four in the entourage was going to end up walking through me.
I froze in place mentally shutting my eyes as the cloaked man strode right into my ethereal presence.
Pain slammed into me, slicing into my brain and scraping down my spine. Every muscle in my body tightened with agony. The only thing I could be thankful for was the figure in the cloak hadn’t stopped until he’d walked right through me.
But, something must have alerted him, because as I looked over my shoulder he stopped in his tracks and turned around, staring at the spot where I stood. I still couldn’t see his face, but from the shape of his jaw and mouth I suspected this person was human. Or at least part-human.
A very effeminate jaw and mouth.
Which could mean nothing.
I watched as he faced me, his body tense. Over his shoulder I could see the masked guard watching me, fear in his eyes. He was shaking his head left to right, his eyes narrowed as if he was urging me to do something.
I knew what he was trying to say.
Leave. Leave now.
I took a step back, caring little that I’d pass through the man’s guards. I was just too desperate to get away. The pain hadn’t receded yet. In fact, my body resounded with agony, the intensity now multiplied tenfold.
The pain was so excruciating that I sucked in a breath, and felt my knees fold beneath me. I blinked.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
Never before had I gained any form of solidity while projecting to alternate planes or realms. My gut churned with fear, and as the black spots creeping into the corners of my vision confirmed I was going to pass out.
And I couldn’t do a damn thing about it. The last thing I saw before I sank into oblivion was the masked guard staring at me, sadness in his eyes.
I knew those eyes had been familiar.
Samuel.
I woke up slumped over, the side of my face sore, wondering what had just happened.
My head lay on the table and my spine hurt from being crouched over for too long. I lifted my head and straightened slowly, silencing a cry of pain as my back cracked.
Samuel still sat in the same position as when I’d left, staring unseeing out of the window.
I massaged a sore spot on my cheek. I must have hit it on the table when I’d passed out. What a strange experience.
First the masked man warning me to leave, then the cloaked figure behaving as if he’d seen me, and most importantly the pain; so intense it had knocked me out.
I thought about the masked soldier, his face hidden, but his eyes so familiar. Eyes that belonged to Samuel.
This whole debacle needed further investigation. Next time I entered this demon realm, I’d have to be much more careful.
And definitely a hell of a lot smarter.
Samuel was in the demon realm, a guard within the ranks of demons. Was that why he kept his face hidden? Or did they know he was human and tolerated him? And why did he warn me off? Surely he knew nobody could see me.
And yet, the hooded figure had reacted as if he’d sensed my presence. That was not supposed to happen.
I spent a few more minutes with Samuel, bringing him up to date on my most recent case. It always felt good to talk to him, even when I knew there was no chance of him responding. Still better than talking to his gravestone.
I fell silent for a moment, feeling the weight of guilt press down on me as I readied myself to betray Samuel. I withdrew a plastic Ziploc bag and a tweezer from my pocket, and proceeded to grab a hair sample from my mentor’s head. His hair was brittle and broke as the metal teeth of the tweezer closed onto them.
After a few tries, I spied a strand on his shoulder and retrieved it carefully. My heart thumped, not from worry that I may get caught, but rather from the guilt overwhelming me. I took a breath and sealed the plastic bag before depositing it in my jacket pocket.
I scooped up the empty cup and grabbed my satchel from the floor, then headed back downstairs. Depositing the cup into the kitchen I spoke to Clara, the bubbly blonde nurse, to get caught up on Samuel’s condition. Despite her cheerful smile, I could see the worry in her eyes.
A few minutes later I was driving back home, the giant hollow in my gut screaming at me. Time was getting dangerously short for Samuel.
And for Ari.
Chapter 12
After the trauma of being so close to Samuel and being unable to reach him, plus the fact that I’d encountered someone who could sense me in the ether, I felt a little off balance.
Often, I’d turn to Drake, but in his absence, I felt myself needing to see Storm. He’d been busy lately, dealing with new kids no doubt. The man had a heart of gold, and I personally owed him a great deal.
I wasn’t sure where I’d have ended up without his guidance and mentorship.
Plus, I had him to thank for Drake and Steph and even Natasha. Not to mention Tara, my Fae MetalSinger friend
Unfortunately Tara, who would have been on my shoulder-to-cry-on list, was also not around to help me out.
I pulled myself from my woe-is-me mode and projected to Storm’s office. Thankfully he was there, though he did look a little preoccupied, pacing in front of his desk.
Jumping to the hall outside his office, I knocked on his door. The sound of pacing stopped and Storm called out. “Come in.”
I headed inside, closing the door behind me. “Hey, you have a minute?”
He smiled, but the cheer wasn’t reflected in his eyes. “Sure. Come on in. I have a few minutes, but I have another appointment soon.”
I smiled. “I won’t take too much of your time.” He waved me to one of the armchairs, but remained leaning against the side of his desk. As I sat there, trying to form the words, I realized how little there was that I could share with Storm.
There was so much about Samuel and me that he didn’t know. And he had no idea that Ari was still alive because I’d been afraid to tell anyone in case I was wrong.
And of course, Storm had no idea I was as powerful a teleporter and astral projector as I was. That secret had been at Samuel’s insistence for my own protection.
And now Darius and the Dark One could be added to my mountain of secrets that I’d slowly begun to keep from Storm.
So, instead of looking f
or advice, I decided I’d be just a friend visiting a friend.
I could do that.
I gave him a cheery smile. “Thought I’d check up on you. See how things are going?”
Storm’s smile was more forced than ever, the usually bright blue of his eyes a murky navy. “I’m fine, Melisande. Was there something urgent you needed?”
I shook my head. “I was just in the area.”
Storm tilted his head to look at me. “How have you been, Mel?” he asked, suddenly turning the tables on me.
He seemed genuinely interested, which was Storm’s way.
I forced a smile on my face. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine.” He leaned closer, inspecting my face. “In fact, you look a little pale, and gray around the gills.”
I let out a sharp laugh. A resident evil would do that to you.
But I didn’t say that aloud.
Waving him off, I said, “No. I’m fine. Just a little tired with so many jumps and back to back cases.”
“Oh?” I could have sworn he looked a little disappointed, but then his face was inscrutable again.
I pushed to my feet and gave him a smile. “I won’t take up any more of your time.” I felt more off balance now than before I’d arrived.
Storm’s odd behavior had me questioning myself all over again.
As I opened the door, Storm said, “Mel?”
I turned to look at him over my shoulder.
“Take care of yourself, okay?” his eyes glittered and I couldn’t define the look he gave me. I could have sworn it was satisfaction—perhaps because he knew he’d succeeded after all these years of mentorship.
I couldn’t argue that he deserved the satisfaction.
Chapter 13
Driving back home my mental note to talk to Saleem regarding Fulbright popped into my head like an alarm, something that rarely happened.
Showed how this whole situation was bugging the shit out of me.
The thought of the sexy djinn reminded me that we had unfinished business. He’d left so fast that he’d failed to update me on his mission. And I had a favor to ask.
It was time that we talked.
Before he did anything drastic without checking in with me.
I sent Saleem a short text telling him I needed to see him.
Our relationship was far from needy, so an admission on my part would have him over fast. But only because he’d be worried.
Returning home, I hurried straight upstairs with my stolen sample of Samuel’s fragile hair. I threw my keys on my nightstand and dropped my satchel beside the bed. Behind my headboard was a moveable panel, which hid a little cubby hole. I’d hidden all sorts of things inside the secret space over the years.
Stolen DNA samples were a first.
Then I changed into yoga pants and a loose tee, and slipped on a ragged pair of slippers before making a quick call to Darius.
For an immortal he was pretty onto it in terms of modern tech. He answered the video call and I found myself staring at his hooded form as he faced the camera.
When Tanaka had instructed me to video-call the ancient directly I’d been more than surprised. And now, my stomach was a bundle of nerves.
The ancients were so respected I somehow felt that the video-call was all kinds of wrong.
But he smiled and drew closer to the screen. “Melisande. You have news?” he asked. His eyes were still hidden.
Taking a deep breath, I changed the subject, tired of thinking about my lack of judgment.
“I tried to contact Samuel and I encountered something really worrying.”
My voice must have held an edge to it. Darius’s smile disappeared and he asked, “What happened?” His tone was kind and patient and comforted me somewhat.
I proceeded to give him a detailed account of my projection into the strange red underworld and my encounter with the hooded figure.
Though I couldn’t make out Darius’s full expression I got the sense that he was concerned. “Melisande, I do think you need to get well, and do so quickly. There is a possibility that your weakness could mean you may not be strong enough to withstand this person’s power and save Samuel.”
Or Ari.
I nodded. “So how do I find this spellcaster.”
“The magic would have been cast using blood. So the key to understanding who he is, is to use your blood to track him.”
“Can I track him?”
“It’s possible. You will only know if you try.”
I nodded and rang off, and while I waited for Saleem’s response I pulled out onions, carrots and celery, and threw a tray of ground beef into the microwave to defrost. I was always in a rush, jumping here, projecting there, helping someone out, and saving someone else.
I hardly ever had time to relax or just not do anything urgent, and right now I felt like I was in limbo.
I chopped vegetables for what Mom said was a Mirepoix. As young as I’d been, Mom had insisted I learn to find my way around a kitchen, and to enjoy myself while I did it.
“Never dislike the cooking process, Melly. Because cooking is creation and it’s the only time you can be a goddess in your own world.”
If only I could find more time to do these creationist things. Instead, I chopped onions, carrots in varying sizes, and forgot to remove the strings on the celery before I gave them the same treatment.
Before long, a Bolognese sauce was bubbling on the stove, while a second deeper pot was slowly coming to the boil for the pasta. I was struggling to keep my eyes open, but I had to eat more than I needed to sleep, and sometimes cooking helped me think.
I’d realized a while ago that I hadn’t been sleeping well and I wondered if that was a side effect of the evil creep. Even my eating patterns had been thrown off-kilter. Sometimes, no matter how tired I was, I’d ignore the need to sleep and rush off to do something that needed doing.
There was only one of me after all.
I stared at the empty kitchen, missing Drake’s presence in front of the stove. I wasn’t sure how long it would be before he returned.
If he returned.
Stop it Mel. It doesn’t help to be negative.
I bit my lip. Drake was going be so mad that I hadn’t told him about the poltergeist. That I hadn’t asked him for help. But I couldn’t keep him here when he needed to go home.
I’d watched him struggle with the decision for months, seeing his eyes, the way they had darkened at the mention of his family. I just prayed that he’d get the resolution he needed from them.
And from his father.
My attempt to find Samuel had failed. We were still waiting for Erik-possibly-the-Phaser to make his move, but at least now I could concentrate on the spellcaster who had saddled me with the creepy poltergeist.
Bastard.
I felt a surge of pure hatred at the person who’d cursed me. I just could not understand who would do such a thing. Not that I couldn’t understand someone hating me.
I’d done enough to ruin the lives of some pretty bad people, but whoever had cursed me with the evil spirit, with hobbling my powers, with nosebleeds and dizziness and certain death, whoever this person was, he was one malicious son of a bitch.
I’d just set the pot of pasta in the middle of the table when Saleem materialized beside me. He smiled at me through the haze of burnt-orange and gold embers, and my stomach tightened.
We’d been through so damned much in the last few weeks, and hadn’t had much chance to indulge our affection—or our attraction—to our satisfaction.
Not yet.
And that incident on the couch earlier so did not count.
Chapter 14
Saleem opened his arms and I went to him, enjoying the comfort of feeling his body against mine, his arms wrapped tightly around me. In his arms, I’d found a safe harbor, some semblance of peace. Even if it only lasted for a brief moment.
“You okay?” he whispered in my ear, his breath warm against my skin.
I nodded, my forehead brushing his chest, finding my current position all too comfortable.
A chuckle rumbled in his chest, vibrating into my cheek. “Liar.”
“Yeah,” I mumbled. Taking a deep breath, I straightened and pushed my hair behind my ears. Then I pointed at the pot. “Food?”
He quirked an eyebrow. “You cooked?”
I glared at him. “What the hell does that mean?”
With a shrug he sat down and reached for the pot lid. “I dunno. Just thought with the gargoyle gone you’d be dining on takeout.”
I grunted and tugged open the refrigerator door, retrieving a bottle of sauvignon blanc. I set it on the table, then grabbed wine glasses from the cupboard above the fridge. “Here. You need the fortification.”
“What for?” he asked as he loaded plates with pasta and stuck a fork in each pile of goodness, handing me one as I took a seat.
“Your battle plan for going home.” I shoved a forkful of pasta into my mouth, cursing myself for having to lie to him. His mother’s words still rang in my head. Saleem had to get his plan together and get himself to the djinn world asap.
He nodded as he swallowed. “The gargoyle leaving has put a spanner in the works. I’m short an operative, now.”
“Yeah.” A pang of sadness stabbed me in the heart. “Wish he were here but we can’t dwell on that. You need to find someone else to help you.”
He shook his head. “I don’t want to bring anyone else into this. It could be dangerous.”
I gave an inelegant snort. “You can’t go by yourself.” When he shifted his gaze from my face to his plate, I recognized the movement—avoidance. I reached out and tugged the sleeve of his shirt. “Hey. Call Logan. Tell him what you’re planning. He’ll want to help you.”
Saleem shook his head.
I sighed and put my fork down slowly. “If I were Logan, I’d be supremely pissed off that you didn’t ask me for my help, especially since we’re such good friends.” He looked up, flames flickering in the depths of his eyes as I continued, “and especially since you’ve helped me out on so many occasions.”