by Dannika Dark
I tilted my thermos, steam escaping. “I question my own motives more than I question yours, so don’t flatter yourself.”
After a few more sips of coffee, I found myself getting sleepy instead of waking up. Apparently, my body was ignoring the presence of caffeine, probably due to all the flashing I’d done earlier that day.
“Do you need to be somewhere?” I murmured, my eyelids dropping like anchors.
“I can hear everything from in here,” he said, his voice hushed. Christian sounded far away, as if he were standing at the end of a long tunnel.
Memories of the day swirled around like a kaleidoscope of images. Running down streets, scaling fences, loading people into the van, reassuring frightened officials. The people downstairs were safe because of me, and that was a good feeling. I was used to bringing down criminals, but saving lives brought its own special reward.
I shivered, my eyes still closed. “Turn on the heater.”
Someone moved me, and I opened my eyes. “What are you doing?”
Christian held me on his lap as he sat down on the cot. “There’s no heater, lass. It’s warmer this way. Now close your eyes and get some rest.”
“But you don’t get cold,” I muttered sleepily, not understanding his intent was to warm me.
My ears latched onto the sound of his beating heart, and it lulled me with its persistent rhythm. Christian was warm-blooded, and since his arms were intimate and inviting, I stopped dissecting my feelings about it and nuzzled against his chest. I could rationalize lust and sex but not so much all the other stuff that crept up from time to time. Like the irrational belief that Christian was my protector. Not just as a partner, but something more. Something I couldn’t put my finger on.
In a nebulous fog, I remembered the fire I’d survived as a child. Faces in the streets watched but never helped. I could still recall the visceral fear in my bones as the smoke thickened and the heat intensified. I was a little girl who knew she was about to die.
And then I remembered the stranger who appeared out of nowhere and rescued me. Who scooped me up in his arms and shielded me from the flames. How could he have heard me? Where did he go afterward? I recollected him passing me off to someone else, and sometimes it seemed possible to glimpse his face in my dreams. I spent a lot of time measuring the meaning of my life because of that stranger. Why had he risked his life for mine? Why had he left without ever coming back? Did he ever think about me? Did he expect me to accomplish great things because of the sacrifice he’d made?
A dull pain lanced through my temple, and I let go to the serenity and rocking tide of sleep.
Chapter 17
The next morning, I woke up alone. Christian had draped a thin white robe over my legs. I remembered falling asleep in his arms, and I wondered what that must have looked like to an observer. A Vampire dressed as a priest, rocking a woman to sleep in his lap. I’d always assumed men felt emasculated by tender affections since most steered away from them in public. The men in my past were nothing like Christian, so I had no one to compare him to.
After I located the bathroom and washed up, I went to the kitchen. There were two camping lanterns on the table, but I decided not to use up their batteries since the indirect light from the hall was good enough to see by. The smell of breakfast sausages hung in the air. Since the kettle on the gas stove still had hot water in it, I opened up the giant can of instant coffee and put three scoops in my cup before adding water. Then I sat down to gather my thoughts. At least my neck didn’t hurt anymore.
Instead of thinking about Christian, I wondered what my father was doing. Was he taking care of himself? Had the blackout forced him to shut down the garage? I hadn’t made any clandestine trips out to his house in a long time, especially not with Fletcher still on the loose. I wanted to call him to see if he was okay.
But I couldn’t, because he believed I was dead.
After I finished my coffee, I went out in the hall and followed the sound of a commotion coming from one of the rooms. I stopped at an open door and looked inside.
Hunched over on his knees, Shepherd had his back to the door. His movements were hurried as Claude handed him something from a medical bag.
“What’s going on?” I walked around them and saw Blue laid out on the floor. Her coveralls were unzipped, her shirt cut open down the center. Blood pooled around a small wound in her belly. “What can I do to help?”
Shepherd jerked his chin at a bloody towel beside her. “Press that over the wound.”
I stanched the bleeding while Shepherd held up a vial and extracted the contents into a syringe. “What happened? I thought the Regulators were supposed to help.”
“They did,” Claude said, his shirt stained with blood. “But not before this happened.”
“Did an official stab her?”
“No. We were chasing down a runner. I sprinted after them, and Blue joined the pursuit. She took another route to cut him off since it looked like he was heading for the subway. I caught the male and slugged him, but Blue never showed. I thought maybe she got lost, but I couldn’t go searching since I had to wait for Shepherd to find me and collect the cargo. When I picked up her scent, it led me to a dead end. She was unconscious and alone.”
“Probably juicers,” I said. “She’s lucky she’s still alive. It’s easy to drink too much light from someone who isn’t a Mage.”
Claude pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes fixed on the blood. “It was dark, so I didn’t see the blood at first. She didn’t have her axe, but by the marks on her knuckles, she put up a good fight.”
Blue had a serene look, her sable hair spread across the cheap carpet like an angel. Her beauty was always overshadowed by her tough personality, and it was the first time I’d really seen her shell without the contents. She didn’t even look like herself.
I jerked my chin at the syringe. “What is that?”
Shepherd flicked it and pushed air bubbles out with the plunger. “Something to wake her ass up.”
“She should have shifted.”
He shoved her sleeve up and stuck her with the needle. “Blue never runs from a fight.”
Seconds after he pushed the plunger, her blue eyes widened, and she gasped.
Shepherd gripped her chin and made her look at him. “Shift!”
I fell back when Blue morphed into a peregrine falcon. She flapped her impressive wings languidly before shifting back to human form. On her knees, Blue lowered her hands and touched the unsealed wound on her belly. Blood no longer seeped from the wound, but it looked grotesque.
Claude leaned in. “Once more, female. You’re almost healed.”
“So tired,” she whispered.
Yep. Someone had juiced her. Light from a non-Mage was weak, but it didn’t stop juicers from stealing it.
When she shifted back to a falcon, Shepherd hurled the syringe. It skittered across the floor and hit the wall. He sat back, one leg bent at the knee. Sweat glistened on his forehead as he panted. “Fucking hell. Only alphas can pull another Shifter from their sleep. I was lucky I had that on me.”
“Why didn’t you give her that at the scene?” I asked.
He wiped his forehead. “I didn’t know she was cut. She had a big fucking knot on the back of her head, and we just assumed someone had knocked her out. It wasn’t until halfway home that Claude scented something wasn’t right. It was too dark to see the blood on her coveralls.”
“Her chemistry changed,” Claude said.
Blue’s falcon flapped its wings, but the only place to perch was on the back of a chair. Normally Blue could remember her entire shift, but I had a feeling she was resting in there.
I stood up, the outside light flooding the room from a window in the hall. “Is the power still out?”
Shepherd gathered up the bloody towel, syringe, and clothes before tossing them in the tiny wastebasket. “Yep.”
“What’s it like out there?”
“A clusterfuck.” He cracked his
knuckles and then gingerly lifted his black bag. “I’m going home. You want a lift?”
“No, I think I better stay,” I said. “Are Wyatt and Niko here yet?”
“No need. The Regulators helped us finish the list.”
My eyebrows nearly touched my hairline. “So fast? What about the other teams?”
Claude stood up and stretched his long arms. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re almost done. Enough Regulators showed up that we could have assigned one to each name on the list.” He clapped my shoulder. “Good thinking, Raven. I would have never been ballsy enough to go to the Overlord. Tell me, why is it you didn’t go to the Mageri instead?”
I shrugged. “Too much red tape. And there are more Chitah Regulators than Mage. It was a numbers game. What does Viktor want us to do now?”
“Guard the church,” Shepherd said gruffly.
I clutched his wrist as he turned. “Wait. I forgot to mention I went to Patrick’s house. I got the kid’s clothes and put them in your Jeep.”
Shepherd gripped my wrist in return and gave me a peculiar stare. “What else happened?”
I wrenched my hand away when I realized he was reading my emotions. “Don’t do that.”
“Can’t help it.”
“Patrick wasn’t there.”
“But?”
“Someone else was. I think one of his guards. Nothing to report,” I said, deciding Shepherd didn’t need to get involved. “If you come back, bring a change of clothes for Blue. It’s probably a good idea if she’s not running around naked in a church.”
Claude crossed the room to a metal folding chair and sat down, the legs squeaking beneath his weight. His blond curls were flat at the top where he must have been wearing a hat. “I’ll stay in here in case she shifts back. Close the door on your way out. I don’t want her attacking the priest.”
“If she does, there’s a confessional just around the corner,” I said, making a brisk exit into the hall.
I walked a few paces and leaned against the wall, watching Shepherd head to the side exit. I breathed a sigh of relief knowing we’d transported every single name on our list. The power outage and continued attacks were causing a firestorm out there. In my old life, I would have been one of those troublemakers. I smiled wistfully at the idea of taking down thugs on every corner without anyone to stop me.
In fact, with all the officials accounted for, what was stopping me?
“Raven, I’ve been looking for you.”
Sucked out of my fantasy, I turned my head to the blond male heading my way. “And why would that be, Merry?”
“I have a murder to investigate, and I’d like you to accompany me.”
Merry looked strange out of uniform. He had on tan winter boots with sherpa lining on the cuffs, and a cable-knit sweater in the same shade. Less like a dangerous guard and more like a catalogue model, ready to hit the Aspen slopes after making maple pancakes.
I watched him latch a leather belt and scabbard around his waist. “What have you been doing all night?”
“Guarding the church,” he said, fastening the belt. “My men made several loops before dropping the targets off, just to make sure no one followed them back to the church. Did your team do the same?”
I folded my arms. “We did the best we could under short notice. Maybe you should have given us the procedure manual before you abandoned your duties.”
A smile touched his lips, and he pulled a knit hat over his head. This one had thick weaves, like something his grandma knitted. “Would you like to accompany me?”
“Is it another official?”
“Yes.” He glanced down at my feet. “Where are your shoes?”
I turned toward the room where I’d slept and went to retrieve them.
Merry followed and leaned against the doorjamb while I sat on the cot and tied the laces on my sneakers. He folded his arms and tipped his chin. “How much loyalty do you have to the higher authority?”
“Was there an oath I missed?”
Merry tapped his chin. “Let me rephrase that. Do you believe in what they do?”
Deciding not to answer him, I threw on my jacket and stood up. Something about his question gave me the chills. Or maybe it was the way his nose kept twitching. I didn’t like people reading my emotions, so I thought about my father just to throw him off. “Are we the only ones going?”
“No. My partner will ride along.”
“Then I should get mine.”
“No need.” Merry stepped away from the doorway. “We’ve already spoken, and he’s unable to leave the premises. Your boss ordered him to stay.”
I zipped up my jacket and fished my fingerless gloves out of the pockets. “We drive in separate cars. I’ll follow.”
He tilted his head to the side. “You don’t trust me.”
“Nope. But if it makes you feel better, I don’t trust anyone. Unless you want to give me your word as a Chitah that you don’t plan to kill me.”
Merry never gave me his word.
As we left the church, I ascertained there were Regulators standing at key locations inside the building. Outside, I spotted two dressed in street clothes. One was sitting in his car, and the other stood by a stop sign, smoking a cigarette. When I asked Merry about it, he said the Regulators weren’t in uniform. It would call attention to them, so they had to be discreet. Until they received further orders, all the assigned churches were under their protection. Our location afforded ideal cover, allowing his men to spread out and cover more ground.
I followed their black SUV, mist coating the windshield of Claude’s Porsche. The dents on the hood stood out in the light of day, and that was coming out of my next paycheck.
Or three.
Would it kill him to drive a cheaper car?
Merry parked in front of a charming house with a wrought iron fence all around it. A cobblestone pathway led to the front, but first you had to get past the two German shepherds that were barking their heads off.
Weather squatted in front of the bars and showed the dogs his fangs, which incited them to bark more ferociously. One bounced back and forth in front of the gate, but he didn’t seem as aggressive.
“Who called this in?” I asked, approaching the front door.
“No one,” Merry said. “One of the teams discovered the body last night. They left the scene untouched before relaying the information.” He stared down at the dog guarding the gate. “This will be a problem.”
I reached for the gate and wrenched it open. “Hi, sweeties! Are you hungry? Do you want a cookie?”
The dog cocked his head, ears perking up. I casually strolled toward the house, the other dog still barking at Weather.
“Come on,” I said. “They can smell fear.”
Dogs always liked me. I wasn’t sure if that applied across the board, but when I was growing up, we always had stray dogs that looked like huskies or wolves running around. Some left me alone, but others were friendly. Most animals sensed Breed, so the key was showing them you weren’t a threat. No eye contact, pay attention to body language, and go about your business. Tail position also indicated their mood. The one barking at Weather held his high, but this fluffy guy had a low, swinging tail and a smile on his face.
When I reached the door, I said, “Let’s go find you a cookie.”
Clearly, he knew exactly what that word meant, because he darted inside excitedly, his toenails clicking against the wood floor. I followed him to the kitchen. Noticing the bowls were empty, I filled them with the bag of kibble sitting in a pantry closet. The dog treats were in a drawer, which he happily barked at to show me. I gave him plenty, tossing a few on the tile before heading back outside.
I whistled a few times and tossed the rest onto the grass. The second dog snapped his gaze at me and decided eating was more important than harassing Weather.
“Put your fangs back in,” I called out. “Either come inside now, or stay out there.”
Weather flashed me a thorny lo
ok before turning his back to the gate.
“Where did you learn to do that?” Merry asked.
I shrugged. “If a stranger came to your house, would you be more threatened by the one offering food or the one showing you his weapons? I’m really surprised you guys aren’t better with animals given you got all those catlike instincts.”
He chuckled. “Cats and dogs, you know?”
“Right.”
We went in search of a body. The house was small in comparison to some of the other officials we’d visited. It felt more like a quaint English cottage. A stone fireplace to the left, two couches facing each other. No leather or big sectionals, but dainty with floral patterns. Wood beams ran along the ceiling, the same type of wood as the bookshelf and coffee table. Merry checked a door beneath a staircase on the right as I ventured up.
The sound of the dog crunching on kibble faded as I reached the top landing. I’d heard stories about pets devouring deceased owners within hours, and the thought of finding that revolted me.
The upstairs was just as small as the downstairs. Maybe smaller since walls closed it off. There was an empty bathroom to my immediate right. Straight ahead, a door, and another to the left. I chose the one in front of me and flipped on the nonfunctioning light out of habit. It smelled like old roses and cedar. The drapes weren’t blackout curtains, so I could see just fine. The white bedspread had patterns woven in and knotted fringe along the edges. The room was as neat as a pin, including the dresser. Personal effects such as hairpins, old-fashioned perfume bottles, and a silver hairbrush each had their own place. There wasn’t even dust on the mirror. Someone took pride in this place and loved it.
I stepped out of the room and approached the other door. It was slightly ajar, and the hinges creaked when I swung it open. Merry’s footfalls sounded from the staircase as I entered the bedroom. The curtains were drawn open, and on the bed to the right, a woman lay motionless beneath the covers, her eyes closed.
For a moment, I wondered if she might be sleeping. She looked so peaceful, and I’d never seen a dead person look that alive. That thought quickly faded when I noticed the red line across her neck where her head was severed. Drops of blood puddled on the floor; undoubtedly, most of it had pooled into the mattress.