The Gateway Trackers Books 3 & 4

by E. E. Holmes

  The ropes slipped from Catriona’s wrists and she gasped in relief. Tia helped her sit up and reached for her ankles, but Catriona waved her away.

  “I can get these,” she said. “Go and help Jess.”

  Tia crossed back to me and knelt behind me. Her first attempt at the knot nudged my arm. I sucked in a shuddering breath and held it, trying not to cry out.

  “Oh, J-Jess,” she stammered. “It’s b-broken for sure. The angle is so strange.”

  “It’s okay, we’ll get it taken care of,” I told her. “Just get the ropes off. Where did you get the syringe?”

  “I was wondering the same thing,” Catriona said as she eased a foot through the loop of the loosened ropes.

  “I was listening at the door and heard the struggle,” Tia said. “I almost came in to try to help, but then the syringe rolled right out into the hallway, and I picked it up. I knew if I could just wait for the right moment, when he was distracted… oh, God, I just can’t believe any of this.”

  The ropes fell away from my wrists as Tia dissolved once more into tears. Tucking my left arm against my side, I turned in the seat, stroking her hair with my good hand. “I’m so sorry, Tia. I’m so sorry. It’s my fault. He was using you to get to me, and I didn’t see it.”

  Tia wiped her eyes on her sleeves. “No, it’s my fault. I should have realized. I should have known…”

  “There was no way you could have known, Ti,” I said. “Did you listen to him? He’s a master manipulator. Well, he learned from the best.”

  Catriona had risen to her feet, looking surprisingly steady. She tucked one hand across her midsection, cradling her ribs. “We can discuss all of this later,” she said curtly. “Tia, is it?”

  “Y-yes,” Tia replied.

  “Did you see anyone else, Tia? Any other men in the vicinity? Any other cars parked nearby?”

  Tia shook her head. “Everything was deserted except for the van in the alleyway.”

  “Right,” Catriona patted her pockets. “Do you have a mobile on you that I can borrow?”

  Tia nodded tearfully, reached into her back pocket, and tossed the phone to Catriona, who caught it deftly, despite the fact that her hands must surely be numb from being tied up.

  “I’m calling for back up,” Catriona said. “Don’t move him, and don’t touch anything.”

  “Does kicking him in the face count as moving him?” I asked politely.

  Catriona cracked half a smile, but didn’t reply. She turned without another word and ducked out through the narrow doorway. I could hear her footsteps all the way up the stairs and pacing around above our heads.

  Tia was staring down at Charlie as though she had never seen anything like him in her life—an alien lifeform, inhuman and frightening.

  “I didn’t know,” she whispered. “I can’t believe that’s what he was, all along, and I didn’t know.”

  I reached out with my good hand, found hers, and squeezed it. “He’s not the only one who surprised everyone.”

  Tia turned to me, face glazed with tears, and frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Busting in here like a superhero? Sticking him with a syringe like some kind of badass secret agent?” I said, nudging her with my shoulder.

  She rolled her eyes. “Shut up, I did not.”

  “You were brilliant,” I told her seriously. “Brave and amazing and brilliant. And you probably just saved my life.”

  Tia’s face scrunched up, the bud of a smile unable to stem the tidal wave of crying that threatened to break forth. I pulled her in beside me and, holding her close, let the storm rage over the two of us. Moored to each other, I knew, we would weather it.

  46

  The Gathering Storm

  “THAT BASTARD! That treacherous, manipulative bastard,” Milo whispered, shaking his head. “I swear on Chanel, if I had my way he’d never have two minutes of peace again in his life.”

  “Get in line,” I told him.

  “Yeah, right behind me,” Savvy added.

  “And me,” Tia and Hannah said together.

  They were all sitting in chairs around my bed in the Fairhaven hospital ward, where Mrs. Mistlemoore had set my arm and done what she could to counteract the nasty effects of the drugs. It had been nearly twenty-four hours since Tia had sprung us from the museum basement, but my head was still pounding and swimming with a dizziness that struck without warning. Mrs. Mistlemoore said the after effects were likely to last at least a week.

  “I still can’t believe this,” Hannah whispered. “All those attacks.”

  “Have they made any progress yet? With Phoebe or Flavia?” Milo asked. Curtains had been drawn around both of the girls’ bed spaces for privacy, and also to contain the Castings they had been using in their attempts to cure them.

  “No, not yet,” I said, reaching over and squeezing Savvy’s hand as I did so; she was gazing guiltily over at where Phoebe lay hidden away. “But they are gathering all of Charlie’s notes and equipment, and the Trackers took photos of the museum basement, and also his apartment, so they can try to piece it all together and reverse the Casting.”

  “They’d be able to piece it together a lot bloody faster if that bastard would cooperate,” Savvy muttered, her nostrils flaring. “But they’ve been questioning him for hours now, and he won’t say a word.”

  Tia stifled a sob behind her hand and lay her head on Hannah’s shoulder. Hannah stroked her hair gently.

  “Our Scribes are brilliant,” Hannah told her. “They’re like, our academics—our research librarians. They’ll figure it all out and Flavia and Phoebe will be back to normal in no time, you’ll see.”

  She said it confidently, to ease Tia’s grief, but she looked me in the eye, and I could read her expression; it was brimming with doubt and worry.

  Tia barely seemed to hear her. She was still looking around the place every now and then as though she’d woken to find herself landed in the middle of a fairytale gone terribly wrong. I remembered feeling the same way when I’d first arrived at Fairhaven—that sense of surrealness had taken a long time to fade. Tia had known only vaguely of the existence of Fairhaven—she had been allowed the general overview of the situation, but never the details, and it was never in the plans to actually let her see the place. In truth, I suspected only a handful of non-clan members had ever set foot in the castle. But after everything that had happened with Charlie—after everything she’d seen and heard in the museum basement—it was inevitable that Tia would need to be brought back with us, to be questioned and debriefed. I’d always done what I could to erect a sort of makeshift barrier between Tia and the Durupinen. I’d tried to shield her from the more frightening details of the world I inhabited. Charlie had blasted those barriers to the ground, destroyed any illusions of safety, and left her to fall, face-first, into the darkest pits of the spirit world. No wonder the poor girl looked like she’d been clubbed over the head.

  “Of course, they will,” I said, picking up Hannah’s cue. “They’ll make sure that Charlie’s legacy in all of this is nothing but failure.”

  I swallowed back a lump in my throat and caught Savvy’s eye. She knew it was a lie, because there was one act of Charlie’s that no one would ever be able to undo, and the weight of it hung over Savvy like a shroud—slowing her steps, dulling her laugh, and snuffing out the trademark twinkle in her eye. There was no bringing back Bertie, no matter what the Trackers discovered of Charlie’s plans. And there was also no amount of rationalization that could make any of us feel any less guilty about it.

  If only we’d seen through Charlie sooner…

  If only we’d gone to the hotel earlier…

  If only someone had gone with Bertie, or called for back-up…

  If, if, if… that word was a remorseless bastard, sometimes.

  An idea seemed to have occurred to Tia. She sat up poker-straight, looking suddenly terrified. “He’s not here, is he? They’re not keeping him in the castle?”

  It w
as Savvy who answered. “No. I may have… uh… roughed up a couple of Caomhnóir when I was trying to get access down to the dungeons. They told me he wasn’t here, but I had to see it for myself. Lucky break for him, too,” she added, with an ominous crack of her knuckles.

  “You roughed up some Caomhnóir?” Hannah asked, looking alarmed.

  “No need to look at me like that. I left them standing, didn’t I?” Savvy said with an unconcerned shrug. “But actually, if you see a discipline report for me slide across your desk while you’re in the next Council session, put in a good word for your girl, eh?”

  Hannah’s lips curved into a reluctant smile. “I think I know a few people who will vouch for you, in this situation.”

  “Yeah, you bloody well do,” said a smooth, silky voice in reply. We all looked up to see Catriona strutting down the hospital ward toward us, looking grim. “Don’t worry your head about it, Savvy. Consider it sorted.”

  “Cheers, Catriona,” Savvy said with a wry smirk.

  “How are you healing up, then?” Catriona asked me, looking me up and down appraisingly.

  “Okay. How are you already up and about? And how the hell are you walking around in stilettos right now?” I asked her, pointing in horror at her feet.

  Catriona shrugged. “I’ve had my fair share of bumps, bruises, and druggings in my time with the Trackers. I don’t like to say you get used to it, but…” she shrugged. “Let’s just say, at this point in my career, I don’t often find an excuse not to look my best.”

  “Respect,” Milo muttered under his breath in an awed voice. He was taking in every detail of Catriona’s appearance with approval.

  “Look, can you lot clear out for a few minutes?” Catriona said, looking at the others, grouped around my bed. “I’ve got to have a word with Jess. And Hannah, they want you to join them in the Grand Council Room. They’re starting to review my report.”

  “Oh!” Hannah jumped up. “Of course. Jess, are you sure you’re…” she gestured a little helplessly at me, her eyes lingering on my arm.

  “Hannah, go,” I said. “I’m good. Honestly, there’s nothing you can do for me at this point but stare at me pityingly. I’ll get by without it, I promise.”

  Hannah narrowed her eyes at me, but gave my good shoulder a squeeze. Savvy and Tia stood up, and Milo floated over to join them.

  “Come on, love,” Savvy said, throwing a friendly arm over Tia’s shoulder. “I’ll take you over to the dining room for a spot of tea, and then, let’s go hang out with my mentee, Frankie. She’s dying to meet you. She wants to go to medical school more than anything, and she wants to pick your brain.”

  “Oh!” Tia said, looking surprised, but pleased all the same. “Yes, all right. That sounds like a good distraction. Jess, is that okay with you?”

  “Yes!” I said encouragingly. “Please, go get your mind off all of this.”

  “Oi,” Catriona said, halting Tia with an outstretched hand.

  Tia froze, looking terrified. “Um… what?” she squeaked.

  “Just wanted to say thanks, again. It’s not often I get myself into a situation that I can’t get out of on my own. You saved our hides in there, and I don’t mind admitting it,” Catriona said, in a tone that suggested she did mind admitting it, just a little.

  Tia gave her a tearful, fleeting smile, along with a nod of acknowledgment, but she didn’t seem able to respond any further than that. Savvy threw an arm around her again, and they followed Hannah up the ward to the door. Milo, floating along in their wake, spun in the air, caught my eye and said, inside my head, “I got you, sweetness. I’m here in the shake of a tail feather if you need me.”

  “Thanks, Milo.” I sent my reply thrumming along through our connection. “Get that tail feather out of here.”

  He grinned, gave a little shimmy purely for my amusement, and faded out of view.

  “Well,” Catriona said, perching herself on the edge of one of the chairs and tossing her hair back from her face. “Your knack for trouble really is uncanny, isn’t it?”

  I sighed. “Look, Catriona, if you’re only here to give me shit, can we do it another time?”

  “I’m not just here to ‘give you shit,’” Catriona said, giving my phrase a slightly disgusted emphasis, as though the American-ness of it left a bad taste in her mouth. “I meant… you did well.”

  “How the hell is that what you meant?” I asked with a dry laugh.

  “I mean, you sensed something wasn’t right, and you took initiative. You went with your gut, and you uncovered what could have been a devastating plot, had it been allowed to run its course. We need that kind of initiative on the Trackers. You did well,” Catriona said, looking at her own fingernails rather than at my face, lest we establish a meaningful moment of connection. “You know, despite overlooking the fact that the perpetrator was right under your nose.”

  I managed not to roll my eyes, but it was close. “I’m going to choose to take that as the compliment I think you implied somewhere in there,” I told her. “And… thank you for your help, too. You… well, anyway, thank you.” Part of me wanted to tell her that I’d appreciated the way she’d volunteered herself for Charlie’s twisted experiment, offering to take my place, telling him I was just a kid. It was only much later, when the adrenaline of the situation had finally worn off, that I was able to fully appreciate what that gesture meant. But the other part of me knew that she’d either deny the whole thing, or else shrug it off as nothing. I decided not to give her the chance to do either.

  “Do you really think they’ll be able to help Flavia and Phoebe?” I asked quietly.

  Catriona’s face fell into serious, contemplative lines, an expression that looked utterly foreign on her features. “I don’t know. I hope so. They’ve got a good shot at it, I think, but God knows how long it will take, or what shape those girls will be in by the time they’ve managed to do it. Staring at one’s own soul… I can’t imagine there won’t be repercussions.”

  I shuddered. The silence spiraled. Catriona broke it with a sigh.

  “Look, what I actually wanted to talk to you about is Charlie and what he said down in that cellar,” she said.

  “Which part?” I asked dryly. “The evil rambling is all blending together, to be honest.”

  “The part,” Catriona said slowly, “when he insisted that the Necromancers would rise again.”

  I dug back through my tangle of memories, trying to remember exactly what Charlie had said. His words floated up to me, like bubbles to the surface of murky water.

  “Let the past molder where it lay. The damage you have done will be repaired.”

  “We are rising, Jessica Ballard. We are rising again, and this time there will be no limit to the scope of our powers.”

  “We have allies, now. Allies you have lost through your neglect and your arrogance and your ingratitude. Soon your defenses shall be ours. And so shall your gifts.”

  “They have allies now,” I said slowly, turning the words over and over in my hand like a river stone: dark, smooth, and opaque. “What do you think that means?”

  Catriona shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  “Do you think there’s a chance he was just bluffing?” I asked, and I could hear the plea in my own voice.

  “Yes, I do,” Catriona said. “But I don’t think it’s a good chance.”

  “So, what do we do?” I asked.

  “The Trackers need to investigate it. And I want you to head up the investigation with me.”

  I blinked. “You want me to what?”

  Catriona rolled her eyes. “You heard me. You broke your arm, not your ears. What do you say?”

  “I… don’t know what to say,” I replied, my head reeling. “You… I mean, let’s be honest, we’ve never been fond of each other, and I’ve barely even gotten started as a Tracker. Why would you want to consider me for something like this?”

  Catriona appeared to be chewing the inside of her cheek, trying to decide how
to phrase her answer. “It’s true. I didn’t like you at first. You’re cocky and defiant, and you’ve got just a bit more attitude than I like.”

  When she didn’t go on, I flopped back on my pillows. “Great, well, thanks for clearing that up.”

  “But, truth be told, I’ve had those very same things said about me,” Catriona said, and I was surprised to hear a smile in her voice. By the time I looked up at her, though, it was gone. “We both play by our own rules. I think we are going to need that independence in this investigation.”

  “You don’t think the Council is going to support it?” I asked. “I mean, you’re on the Council.”

  “My voice may be on the Council, but that doesn’t mean my voice will necessarily be heeded by the majority. Celeste certainly understands the threat of the Necromancers, I’ll give her that, but she also cares about process and order. She will not underestimate the Necromancers, but she will still want to do things by the book. Look, what I’m saying is, I think the Council will approach this threat… carefully,” Catriona said. “I’m not sure if we can afford to be careful.”

  We are rising, Jessica Ballard. We are rising again, and this time there will be no limit to the scope of our powers.

  “We definitely can’t afford to be careful,” I agreed.

  “Too right we can’t,” Catriona said. “The official investigation has already been opened, but we are going to expand it. It’s going to take a lot of boots on the ground. You will likely be asked to do things you’ve never done before. It might require learning some new skills, ignoring a fair number of rules, and flying under the Council radar. What do you say?”

  I didn’t really have to think about it. Even if she hadn’t been asking me to do everything I could to stop the Necromancers from gaining power again, wouldn’t I have been doing it anyway?

  “I’m in,” I told her.

  Catriona smiled. It was the first time she’d ever smiled at me without a trace of mockery behind her eyes. I wouldn’t exactly call it “friendly”—I don’t think Catriona was emotionally capable of “friendly.” But there was definitely something there; it might even have been respect. “Excellent,” she said, standing up. “I’ll start the paperwork.”