by Regine Abel
Wilkins threat died in a gurgle, his face turning red as Agent Thomson fisted his collar, tightly enough to strangle him.
“That’s enough!” Thomson shouted, his face inches from his partner’s. “You and I need to talk. Get your ass to my office,” he added, shoving Wilkins towards the door.
The younger man adjusted his white shirt and black suit, before loosening his black tie. After casting a murderous glance in my direction, he walked out without a word. Agent Thomson ran a nervous hand through his greying hair, mumbling under his breath something I didn’t understand.
“I’m sorry for all this, Ms. Eastwood,” he said, worry and sympathy oddly mingling in his baby blue eyes. “I will return shortly to sort this all out.”
“Okay. Thank you,” I said. “Can I make a phone call?”
“In a minute. Let me handle this idiot and then we can fix this whole mess,” he said, then walked out, closing the door behind him without giving me a chance to answer.
It would be closer to twenty minutes before Agent Thomson returned with grim news. Apparently, he’d tried to reach Kazan but got no response. After the agent had returned my phone to me, I found a dozen missed calls from Kazan, then the single text message stating: “I’m coming for you.”
CHAPTER 12
Kazan
I snapped awake with an uneasy feeling. In all my time in the Mortal Plane, I’d never had an actual nightmare. My latest dream had been strange but not terrifying. I hated not remembering it in this realm, only retaining a lingering feeling of what had transpired. At least, sleeping as a human gave me a small window into the Mist which, in turn, permitted me to syphon some sliver of ethereal energy back. It also used to do wonders in healing my human vessel, but binding myself to Jade had a cost which I felt now. Although I didn’t regret it, I’d become more human, and my ethereal magic didn’t work as well, healing me far less than it used to.
My entire body still ached. Muscles I hadn’t even known existed screamed their displeasure. As I rolled to my side to find a more comfortable position, the sense of unease I now realized had been nagging me even in my sleep poked and prodded at me again. Looking at the clock, I quickly assessed that Jade had gone out about forty minutes ago.
“Jade,” I called out, wondering if she had already returned.
When complete silence met my shout, I focused on that disturbing feeling that something was off. Back in the Mist, it usually happened when Jade was hurt, in trouble, or pursued by a Nightmare. With Morgan having met his permanent death, I couldn’t imagine what could provoke this sense of doom in the Mortal Plane. Picking up my phone, I checked for any messages from Jade. Finding none, I called her only to land in her voicemail. Knowing how she often tossed her phone into her purse, then had to rummage to fish it out, I waited a little before calling my mate again, hoping she would have it handy. When I reached her voicemail again, my level of anxiety surged. In all of our time together, Jade always answered my calls, no matter how busy she was, or at least texted to let me know she couldn’t answer right now.
Wincing in pain, I crawled out of bed and stepped into the bathroom to wash the sleep from my face. I cringed at my reflection in the full mirror on the bathroom door. Despite my ethereal shield, Morgan had done a number on me, his shadowy tendrils imprinted all over my skin in shades of black, purple, and yellow.
After getting dressed, I checked my phone again; still no text message or call from Jade. Fighting the urge to take more meds, since the last dose had been too recent, I walked out of my bedroom into the living area. A dark shape on the floor by the entrance immediately drew my attention. I approached it to investigate, the sense of dread which gnawed at me rising exponentially as I recognized the black business card that had been slipped in through the door mail slot.
The front of the glossy black card simply displayed a stylized white text stating ‘4D’ which I assumed stood for Fourth Division. The white matte back of the card contained two lines of text handwritten in black ink. The first read ‘You broke the agreement’ while the second indicated an address with simply a street name and door number.
For a moment, my vision blurred with blind fury. They’d dared come to my home to take my woman under false pretenses. I hadn’t breached any agreement, although when it came to protecting my mate, I would have without hesitation. If they thought to use their failure to ensure Jade’s safety as an argument to keep us apart, they had another thing coming.
My first instinct was to call a cab, but then it struck me that their hand delivery of the card implied they’d likely apprehended Jade right here. Grabbing the second set of car keys, I headed down to the garage to have my suspicions confirmed with my car parked in its reserved spot. My anger flared further when I found the doors unlocked but no keys in the ignition. The bastards must have cornered her before she could even set her foot inside.
After entering the address into my car’s integrated GPS, I drove off, relieved that the destination sat in the industrial sector of the city and not some remote, shady place where one would dump a body. Yet, something didn’t add up. They’d clearly taken Jade as bait to lure me; a pretty dishonorable tactic that didn’t fit with my reading of Agent Thomson. Our text conversation last night hadn’t indicated any intent of litigating me over my killing Morgan. And even if he had, I believed Thomson would have first asked me to turn myself in, keeping Jade as an ultimate weapon in case all else failed.
While speeding down the highway, I wondered if I should have called Agent Thomson to ask why—and if—he’d pulled such a stunt. The more I thought about it, the more it felt like something Agent Wilkins would do. Thomson had kept him on a tight leash, but the younger agent held an obvious hatred of my kind that bordered on the fanatical because of what happened to his sister.
It struck me then that in my haste, I’d left my phone at home, not that it would have done me any good. Clearly, they’d taken Jade’s phone away, and they had not bothered to call me. They didn’t want a conversation but a confrontation.
Worst case scenario, I had just enough energy left to cross the Veil back into the Mist, but not enough to preserve this body. I couldn’t let things devolve into a fight, especially so far away from the next Mist. If I harmed any agent, they’d put me on the wanted list and seek to banish me by any means. This meant no more life with Jade as they’d have around the clock surveillance around her to catch me. With Laura in the picture, running away together wouldn’t be an option. Conclusion; I needed to keep my cool and not be tricked into using my power.
As I pulled up to the parking lot of the dark building, which no doubt served as the Men in Black’s headquarters, a single agent came out. My heart sank as I recognized Agent Thomson. Had I so badly misread him? Even now, as I parked in the spot closest to the entrance, ignoring the reserved sign, the emotions emanating from him contained no malice, only a hefty dose of worry and an underlying layer of anger that didn’t feel aimed at me.
I got out of the car, slamming the door behind me. Thomson took a few steps towards me, raising his palms before him in an appeasing gesture.
“Mr. Dale,” he called out as I continued my approach, “I’m sorry you had to come all the way here this morning. There’s been a terrible misunderstanding.”
“Where’s my Jade?” I asked, stopping a few feet from him.
“Ms. Eastwood is inside, safe and unharmed,” he said, gesturing towards the entrance. “I made sure of it. This should never have happened. It wasn’t an authorized mission.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, seeking any signs of duplicity, not wanting to give in to relief too soon.
“I promise you, Mr. Dale, I honor my deals. Unfortunately, one of our agents acted overzealously,” Thomson said, no doubt sensing my hesitation.
“Wilkins,” I said, my anger resurfacing.
Thomson’s sigh and discouraged expression confirmed my guess. “As soon as we’ve settled this mess, I will put him on disciplinary leave and demand a psycholog
ical evaluation to assess his fitness for duty. I’m afraid dealing with Morgan’s victims over the past week has pushed him over the fine line he was already treading.”
I nodded curtly and gave him a challenging stare. “I want to see Jade.”
“Of course.” Agent Thomson turned slightly and gestured at the entrance. “This way, please.”
“I didn’t break the agreement,” I said as we walked side by side towards the building.
My back stiffened at Thomson’s hesitation.
“No, you didn’t,” the older man said, choosing his words carefully. “However, the more bigoted among the force say that, technically, you did since Morgan was in human form when you killed him and the agreement was to not drain any human.”
The tall glass doors opened automatically upon our approach. I scanned the large entrance hall for threats or signs of treachery. Empty but for a few benches along the dark grey walls and the reception desk in the middle, it held a solemn severity that naturally incited people to talk in hushed tones. The two security guards at the desk on a quiet Saturday morning screamed overkill, not to mention the half dozen other agents that conveniently happened to be idling within intervention range, pretending to be talking in pairs or looking at their phones. Yet, the not-so-subtle furtive glances in our direction weighed heavily upon me.
“His ashes would have confirmed his nature,” I said absentmindedly as I assessed the emotional state of the agents.
Fear and curiosity dominated among them, aside from one who reeked with distrust and borderline hatred. I turned my head towards him, staring him straight in the eyes.
“Hello,” I said in a somewhat taunting tone.
The agent’s eyes widened then he quickly averted them without answering.
Thomson frowned. “Please, do not provoke the men.”
Although worded as a request, I didn’t miss the underlying warning in his voice.
“I’m not provoking them but issuing a preemptive warning, letting him know that I’m on to him,” I said with a shrug. “If he has ill intentions, he will not get the drop on me.”
Thomson harrumphed noncommittally as we stepped into the elevator. It took us to an overly bright and clinically white hallway with doors on each side simply identified by a large letter and a two-digit number. Right outside the elevator, a man at a small security desk nodded for us to proceed after making eye contact with Agent Thomson.
The unpleasant sense of imminent doom returned as I wondered if I’d allowed myself to be lured to my execution. But the tingle associated with Jade’s presence engulfed me. It grew stronger with each step we took forward. Impatience had me increasing the pace, forcing Thomson to accelerate as well. I didn’t even care about his amused smirk, overwhelmed by the need to hold my mate. It became so strong that I didn’t need the agent to indicate to me which room she was in. I half-ran to door E.27 and turned the handle only to find it locked.
Agent Thomson chuckled and waved his ID card in front of a security card reader on the wall that I’d failed to notice in my eagerness. The red LED on it turned green, and I immediately turned the handle again. I’d no sooner opened the door than Jade shouted my name.
My mate jumped to her feet from the chair she’d been sitting in and ran towards me. She threw herself into my arms, and I wrapped them tightly around her, oblivious to the pain from my bruises. Gripping my hair with both hands, she crushed my lips with a desperate kiss to which I responded in kind. Breaking the kiss, she buried her face in the crook of my neck and held me tightly. With one hand around her back and the other holding her nape, I kissed the top of her head before resting my cheek against it, inhaling deeply the familiar and soothing scent of the flowery shampoo she used.
Reluctantly releasing her, I examined her face and body for any sign of injury. She giggled, telling me she was fine. Lifting my head, I noticed the agent at the back of the room who’d been standing guard. He looked familiar as he stared at us with a troubled look on his face. It took me a moment to remember seeing him at the gallery last night. This explained how they’d been so quickly on site to clean things up.
His emotions broadcast surprise, confusion, and blossoming doubt.
He thought me to be a monster like Morgan.
“I would like to take my woman home and for you to give me your assurance such a misunderstanding will not occur again,” I said to Agent Thomson in a stern tone.
“Naturally,” Thomson said in a conciliatory voice. “However, as Ms. Eastwood didn’t witness your encounter with the Nightmare, I would need to record your deposition. Agent Tate here will bear witness. It shouldn’t be more than twenty minutes of your time and then you can be off and not have to see us again.”
Although reluctant, I cast an inquisitive look at Jade who nodded her assent. With a sigh, I sat in the chair Thomson indicated and then pulled my woman onto my lap. She snuggled against me, and I absentmindedly caressed her fiery hair. Agent Tate placed the recorder on the table before me and turned it on. As I spoke, the sense of unease returned. I tried to keep it short but Agent Thomson asked me to specify every time he felt I was cutting corners. Just as I got to the part where I’d asked Monica to call the chauffeur to take Jade and me home, the door of the interrogation room burst open.
Startled, we all turned to find Wilkins and two other agents walking into the room, one of them the agent that had exuded hatred in the main hall upon my arrival. All senses on full alert, I made Jade stand up, rose to my feet as well, and then pushed her behind me. The three new agents immediately placed their hands on their holsters, ready to draw their weapons.
Agent Thomson and Agent Tate jumped to their feet.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Wilkins?” Thomson snapped. “I told you to wait in my office to face disciplinary measures.”
“As per the rules,” Wilkins said with a malicious smile, “I am not obligated to follow the orders of a superior who has been compromised.”
“Me, compromised?” Agent Thomson asked, bewildered.
The flicker of unease in Agent Tate’s eyes, and the torn emotions emanating from him indicated we might find an ally in him.
“You are single handedly trying to exonerate a serial killer in breach of agreement who is also spreading propaganda with the aid of his accomplice to incite women to commit suicide,” Wilkins said pointing an angry finger at Jade on the last word.
“Serial Killer? You are insane,” Thomson whispered, looking at his partner like he was seeing him for the first time.
Beyond insane.
“I am not insane,” Wilkins snapped taking a step forward.
Pushing Jade further away, I also took a step back then prepared to raise my ethereal shield if needed.
“The killer’s energy signature found on most of the thirteen victims from this week is similar to the one found on the gallery corpse this monster claims was Morgan,” Wilkins said, pointing at me.
“Similar doesn’t mean same or identical,” Thomson said, waving a dismissive hand. “The similarity is normal considering they both sparked from Ms. Eastwood.”
“That still doesn’t prove the carcass we found belonged to Morgan,” Wilkins argued, his face taking on a mulish expression.
“His ashes do,” I countered.
“There were no ashes with the corpse,” Wilkins said. “The pile we found was quite far from it.”
“Because I hid the corpse to prevent humans from stumbling upon it,” I said, my voice clearly indicating how stupid I found that comment.
“These could have been the ashes from anyone, not necessarily your victim’s,” he argued.
I shrugged. “DNA would prove…”
“You can’t get DNA from ashes, you dumbass,” Wilkins interrupted.
Okay, I hadn’t known that.
“But you can compare the corpse’s DNA to the blood found in my house after Morgan attacked me,” Jade said from behind me.
“And they did match,” Thomson confirmed, his voi
ce filled with tension.
“That still doesn’t prove that Morgan wasn’t human,” Wilkins said.
“What?” Jade and I exclaimed at the same time.
“For all we know,” Wilkins said, staring at Jade with disdain, “you were fucking that man, too, got into a lover’s spat, and used us and your demon to settle the score. It wouldn’t be the first time some sick bitch used the law to get revenge.”
“You tread carefully, human,” I hissed, taking a threatening step towards the son of a bitch.
“Or what, demon? You’re going to leech me too?” Wilkins taunted.
“Mr. Dale, please,” Agent Thomson cautioned.
I reined in the urge to slaughter Wilkins, knowing he was trying to goad me into doing something that would justify violent action. Jade’s delicate hand rubbing my back soothingly helped greatly.
“I assure you,” I said in a barely controlled voice, “it was no human I battled last night.”
Lifting my shirt off, I held it fisted in my hand. All the agents in the room gasped, eyes wide at the sight of the bruises covering my body.
“Rather than harassing us, you should be getting on your knees and thanking me for permanently taking out that Nightmare. If not for my ethereal powers, he would have crushed me to a pulp. Against one of you, each of these blows would have punched right through flesh and bones, splitting you in half.”
An uneasy silence followed my words.
“You’ve seen it,” I whispered, understanding dawning on me at the haunted looks in the men’s eyes.
“Yes,” Thomson said, grimly. “Five of the thirteen victims this week were agents.”
I flinched. No wonder they’d displayed so much hatred and resentment towards my kind.
“Oh God,” Jade whispered.
“God has nothing to do with it,” Wilkins said, snapping out of his haunted daze, the insane glimmer in his eyes shining brighter than ever. “This is why we need to eliminate these abominations,” he said, flicking open the safety latch of his holster. “These demons should not be here, infesting our world and corrupting our women. He must return to Hell where he belongs, and that bitch needs to be indicted for heinous propaganda.”