by K.N. Lee
That was more than just a coincidence.
She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. Seth had said that more girls would continue to die until she found his brother. No matter which way she looked at that statement, it implicated him. Even if he wasn’t killing them, he certainly knew what was going on.
If only she could find some way to confront him, get him to reveal what he knew.
But that was unlikely. She couldn’t even imagine a scenario in which he’d reveal the smallest hint. He was better at any game she wanted to play, and yet…
All the games they’d played so far had been through his machinations. While it appeared he was always poised and in control, she’d never had the opportunity to catch him on her terms. If she just dropped by, caught him in his world, he might not be so calm, so prepared.
All she had to do was world-walk into the other-world.
Azkeel had said she could do it at will. Even Seth had said she’d return to his world without his help. She doubted he meant she’d return to catch him at his games, but that was one way she could manipulate him.
The sensation of world-walking had been waves of dizziness, a little like having an inner ear infection, and being unable to catch her balance.
She struggled to focus her mind on that and let everything else around her become fuzzy.
Nothing happened.
Or at least she didn’t feel anything. She opened her eyes. The subway car looked as it had when she’d first entered. There had been only two other riders then and there were still only two riders. They sat at the far end of the car and from that distance, they appeared human.
Which didn’t mean anything. Unless an entity was at the next stop, or Seth magically appeared — which she wouldn’t put past him — there were very few ways for her to determine if she’d walked to the other-world. The difference between worlds was so subtle at times, she hadn’t even noticed which Shannon she’d been talking to.
Great.
Some intellectual she was. It would have been wiser to think of all that before she’d attempted to world-walk. She didn’t even know the specifics of world-walking, how it worked, what happened. The only way to know was to go to the medical examiner’s office and ask to see the bodies of the co-ed killer case. If he looked at her like she was crazy, then she’d know she was in the other-world.
She disembarked at the next stop with two dozen normal-looking people. Up on the street, everything appeared normal as well, giving her more evidence that she hadn’t, in fact, world-walked.
The medical examiner’s office was in a new, state-of-the-art building, on the edge of the downtown core and the old warehouse district. A block of old brownstone warehouses had been torn down and a shiny new high rise built in their place. She passed security and took the elevator to the third floor. At reception, she flashed her FBI consultant clip-on badge to the bored night security guard and was buzzed into the office proper.
“End of the hall. Door labeled crypt. Dr. Thomas should be in there.”
She followed the hall to the end and pushed open the door, as instructed.
Dr. Thomas — or so she assumed — was wrist-deep in a body. She swallowed the bile burning the back of her throat, and focused her attention on Thomas’s face. It was round, pink, lined, and normal.
“What?” He didn’t look up.
She clenched her jaw. It was time to find out which world she was in. “I’m Rowan Hill, with the FBI.”
“Unhun.” He removed the heart from the body, held it up, and gazed at it, drawing her attention to it.
She sucked in a deep breath, and coughed on the sticky sweet smell of death and blood until her eyes watered. It wasn’t the corpse, really — and if she thought it enough…
“I realize you’re busy, but—”
“But you’re going to bother me anyway,” he said.
She resisted the urge to strangle him. “I think three dead girls is worth the bother.”
He locked gazes with her. There was a knowing in his expression, an acknowledgment that he knew what she was talking about, and he didn’t like it.
Great. She was in her world.
Now she knew how to continue.
“I’m the occult criminologist working with the OCU. I’d like—” She took a step into the room. “Please, can you show me the girls’ bodies.”
“Special Agent Brown has already been briefed.”
“I’m sure he has. I, however, am trained to notice particular things that he, and possibly you, might not.”
Thomas placed the heart onto a scale with a wet thud. “Really?”
Damn. Too strong. “Just…” All she wanted was a look, a quick little peek. That was all. “One more set of eyes couldn’t make it worse. Please.”
“Since you ask so nicely,” Thomas said, his inflection dry. He peeled off his gloves and walked to a bank of doors at the back of the room.
It was all so familiar. She felt like she’d done this already, but that had been in the other-world and the body she’d gone to the morgue to try to see had been her other-self.
Thomas opened a door at the bottom of the bank and pulled out the drawer. It was Chloe, the latest victim.
Her face was gray, perfectly intact, with her eyes half open as if she were merely sleepy. But her torso and chest were ripped open, revealing pieces of mutilated organ and bone. This wasn’t an injury that could be closed up with a few stitches for the funeral.
After Rowan’s initial glance, she kept focused on the girl’s face. She’d been plain with thin lips and a broad forehead and cheeks. Her dark brown eyebrows suggested her shoulder-length blonde hair came from a bottle. But none of that mattered. She’d been someone’s cherished daughter. And now she was dead.
Out of the corner of her eye, Rowan caught the hint of a pale glow where her heart would have been had it not been missing. The glow was slight, like heat shimmering over hot pavement in summer.
It wasn’t as strong as the glow around the other college girls, and not even close to the intensity of the glow around Seth’s or Azkeel’s hearts, but it was definitely there.
She asked Thomas to show her the other victims and they had the glow as well.
Rowan took a moment to check out Thomas, just to make sure she wasn’t seeing glows on everyone.
Nothing.
All three girls must have had latent world-walking abilities. Thomas didn’t. And now she had a theory. She still didn’t know the why or the how, but from the interview with Manny, Seth had an obvious interest in latents. All doubts she might have had about Seth’s involvement were gone — not that she’d had many, but she still didn’t want to think she’d associated with a psychopathic murderer and hadn’t known it.
Still, she had no idea how a person went about bringing to justice a demon from a parallel world when, if she told the truth, everyone in her world would think she was crazy.
44
Rowan left the medical examiner’s office and headed back to the subway. It was now even later at night after a long day of waiting and frustration. She couldn’t tell Brown she’d discovered that all the murdered girls had had latent world-walking abilities — he’d say she was crazy — but she didn’t want to be the only one to know.
She contemplated writing a letter, but decided to tell Sister Josephine instead. There wasn’t anyone who’d believe a letter without her around to explain and maybe Joe would have some suggestion or words of wisdom that would tell her how to stop Seth.
A cold wind rustled the leaves of the trees towering above St. Anne’s campus. Somehow, the heat earlier that night at the farmhouse had turned cool. Rowan flipped up her collar and picked up her pace. All the way back to St. Anne’s she examined her conclusion about Seth. The more she thought about it, the more it felt right.
Seth was trouble. It emanated like a black aura around him, screaming dangerous and deceitful. And yet she couldn’t bring herself to completely believe it. Maybe he really was worried about his brot
her, and was desperate enough to kidnap the one person he thought could help.
And pigs could fly.
Seth was more capable than her in his world. What could have possibly made him think she could do better than him at finding his brother?
The only reason she even considered a kinder perspective was her attraction to him. She just couldn’t believe she was into bad boys. Except there was something so sexy about him, and she didn’t want to admit that what made him sexy was what made him dangerous.
She could only hope Sister Joe could shed some light on the situation. A lot of hypotheticals would have to be involved if only to prevent Rowan from being sent to the psych ward, but Josephine had experienced things even she couldn’t explain while she’d worked with her mentor, a church exorcist. Perhaps seeing auras wouldn’t prove that much of a stretch.
A scream shattered Rowan’s thoughts.
She froze and scanned the area. It had sounded like a woman, but it had happened so fast and she hadn’t been paying attention, so she couldn’t tell where it had originated or if she’d even heard it at all.
The wind whipped the leaves around her, chilling her, and she felt the night’s darkness close in. The shadows grew, looming from all directions until the lights on the path were minuscule, placed too far apart to shed any significant illumination.
Time inched by and she felt hours, days, years pass in the blink of an eye and yet only mere seconds were gone. She must have imagined it.
Another scream shattered the illusion of quiet that the night had wrapped around her.
It came from her left, near Mary’s Grove. Definitely female and there was the unmistakable edge of panic in it.
Rowan raced toward it. It didn’t matter if it was her murderer striking or not. Not one more girl would be hurt during her watch.
She crossed the quad and broke through the thick evergreens surrounding the grove. Streams of light from the path behind her cut through the branches in thin bands, making it difficult to see into the shadows.
Two figures struggled at the far end. The smaller of the two was a young woman, wearing a tailored white fall coat and a white ribbon in her hair. A pale glow emanated around her heart, making Rowan’s breath catch in her throat.
The other figure was in all black. Shadows obscured his identity, but from his size, he had to be male.
And he wasn’t Seth.
He was too large, without any of the sleekness that she attributed to the demon. Maybe she was wrong and Seth was innocent — at least of this crime.
The girl stumbled, and the man pushed her down. Rowan yelled and rushed toward them. Both girl and man looked up at her. Rowan ignored the girl. Compassion, fear, any emotion at the moment could cloud her judgment and the last thing she needed was to put another face to her list of victims. She strained to see the man, but the shadows were too thick.
It didn’t matter. She could subdue him and look at him later once she’d called the FBI. She rammed her fist into his chest, forcing him to stumble back, away from the girl.
He grunted and lunged at Rowan. She sidestepped his tackle. She didn’t want to get into a wrestling match with someone who outweighed her unless she could guarantee a solid joint lock.
He lunged at her again. She shifted her stance, her heel catching on a root, forcing her to contort her body to keep out of his way. His body grazed her shoulder, knocking her back. The world twisted and the shadows billowed around her.
She shook her head. He hadn’t hit her that hard. She’d taken worse in competitive sparring before. Blood rushed in her ears and her chest tightened. Gasping, she struggled to catch her breath.
The man grabbed her arm and yanked. She stumbled toward him, off balance. She landed a solid strike on his cheek but felt she was moving in slow motion and through water all at the same time.
He shrugged off the blow before she could throw another punch and jabbed her in the stomach. The impact forced the air from her lungs and she dropped to her knees. Then he turned and crashed out of the grove. She struggled to her feet and chased after him as he ran into the quad.
After the darkness of the grove, the lights on the path were bright. She sucked in a breath, pushing after him. She was taller, which meant her stride was longer and she could catch him if she could just get her breath back.
But as he reached the main path the man wrenched back to face her. A gunshot cracked around her and her heart stuttered. She knew that sound all too well. But she didn’t feel anything, save the continuing tightness in her chest.
He’d missed.
Light flashed between her and the assailant, growing until it was the size of a man. She squinted, catching the hint of a human-shaped form within.
Another wave of dizziness washed over her and the world lurched, making her stumble. The man in the light was tall, his hair pale and cut at shoulder length. The ends floated around him as if the light surrounding him had substance, like the wind. For a moment, she thought it was Azkeel, but the figure didn’t have his beautiful wings.
Of course, if an angel walked from his world to hers, would he still have his wings?
Maybe he could hide them. The figure was so much like the angel, the more she looked at him, the more she was certain it was Azkeel.
Beside him, bathed in the white light, stood Harry, the janitor. He waved his gun at the figure and staggered a few feet away.
“I know about you,” he said, hysterics creeping into his voice. “And there will be a false angel walking among you. He will not be a warrior of God, but a minion of the Devil.”
The world twisted. A weight pressed against Rowan’s chest. She dropped to one knee, sucking in air.
“You are false. False,” Harry screamed.
She struggled to stand and move. If Azkeel kept him distracted, she could disarm him. But her arms and legs were too heavy and black specks danced across her vision.
“The true messenger has already spoken.” Harry pointed the gun at her. Hot panic raced through her. She had to run. Had to do something. Harry fired.
Azkeel leapt between them. He gasped and the glow diminished.
Harry turned and ran. Rowan struggled to reach Azkeel, but couldn’t get up. A chill washed over her, bringing with it darkness that wouldn’t clear from her vision. She struggled for breath and fell into endless, swirling darkness.
45
Rowan woke with a start. Sister Joe leaned over her and behind her, the black blanket of night covered the sky. She was on her back, on the wet grass, beside the main path on St. Anne’s campus.
“Where are they? Did you call the cops?” Rowan scrambled to her feet and fought the wave of dizziness that threatened her balance.
Joe’s expression remained placid. “Where are who?”
“The girl, Harry, Az—” She bit her lip. The Sister’s expression remained blank as if she didn’t know what she was talking about. “Didn’t you hear the gunshots?”
“Gunshots?”
“What about the girl?”
“What girl?” Joe wrapped her tiny hands around Rowan’s biceps. “I’m taking you to a doctor.”
“I don’t need a doctor.” Maybe a psychologist, but certainly not a physician. “Didn’t you hear anything?” Someone must have heard something. The sky hadn’t changed enough for any length of time to have passed. She’d only been unconscious for seconds, maybe minutes at most, not hours.
“Well, if you won’t see a doctor, then I insist on a cup of tea.”
She nodded, too exhausted to argue as if the adrenaline that had pumped through her during the fight had taken all her will with it when it dissipated. A cup of tea sounded like the best idea in the world at the moment. “You’re sure you didn’t hear anything?”
The Sister shook her head and led her across the quad.
“And—” Rowan was going to ask about the girl and Harry, then realized she was repeating herself. She was still disoriented, dizzy, and every time that had happened…
&nbs
p; Ah, shit.
She’d world-walked.
It was the only explanation. That was why Joe hadn’t seen or heard anything because nothing had happened in this world.
She swore, in English and then in French for good measure. She didn’t know if Harry was involved in the co-ed murders, but he was now at the top of the suspect list — not that they’d actually had a list or that there was anyone here she could tell.
She had to figure out how to get back to her world. Fast.
Sister Joe took her to her tiny apartment in the East Building, right in the middle of the girls’ dormitory. Every time she visited the Sister’s apartment, Rowan wondered how the aging nun could stand living with teenagers next door. She’d asked a few times, and Joe had always said something about how the youth made her feel youthful, but Rowan couldn’t see how anyone could get any kind of work done with the constant muffled voices, and doors opening and closing.
Of course, maybe that was why Joe spent most of her free time in the library or her office.
Joe ushered her onto a new green and rose sofa and continued into the kitchenette, where she filled up the kettle and plugged it in.
Rowan shifted, unable to get comfortable. Harry was still out there — in her world. She couldn’t believe the mild-mannered janitor was the murderer, but his behavior needed explaining. She had to get back home. If she asked, would this Joe help her world-walk? She’d been about to tell her world’s Sister Josephine about Seth. Why not this world’s Joe about parallel worlds?
The thought was completely illogical. The nun believed in God and the Devil, but not magic and certainly not parallel worlds. Except in this world, demons were real. There was a warlock on contract with the FBI, or at least, he was on their phone list. Magic was obviously real, and yet Azkeel had said that the people — and entities — believed world-walking wasn’t real.
Why couldn’t things be cut and dry in this world?
Of course, maybe they were and she didn’t know what was accepted belief or not.