Touching Silver

by Jamie Craig

  Gabriel liked having guards. Though dangerous on his own, he wasn’t a stupid man. He knew how many enemies he had, how many were interested in seeing him go down. So he protected himself accordingly. When they realized which house he was using, Isaac gathered their most recent information on who resided there.

  Ironically enough, it turned out to be the very same house at which some unsuspecting cop had photographed Marisol de los Rios a few years earlier.

  The property was heavily watched in front, but the rear overlooking the valley was mostly clear. Surveillance cameras swept the drive, meaning they had to skulk along the hedges, stopping when Isaac gave them the signal to avoid being detected. He led them slowly but surely to a service door on the ground floor, the trash cans nearby clear indicating it was a kitchen.

  Remy’s hand tightened in his as Isaac jimmied the lock. It felt like it took forever and a day for the door to finally swing clear.

  They slipped into the dark kitchen one by one, and Isaac gently closed the door behind them. It only took moments for Nathan’s eyes to adjust to the dark. Nobody had their weapons pulled yet, but both Isaac and Olivia had their holsters unsnapped. Light snuck in from beneath the kitchen door, and Isaac gestured for them to follow. Nathan genuinely missed working on the force in moments like these, when he could practically read his partner’s mind and they both knew things were about to come to a head.

  Isaac made sure the hallway was clear before leading them out of the kitchen, with Nathan bringing up the rear. He kept his eyes peeled for any guards or signs of life, but the long corridor was empty.

  But then they all heard it. Gabriel’s voice. Chanting. Behind a closed door.

  Here we go, Nathan thought, seconds before Isaac kicked the door in.

  The room had been stripped of furniture, the carpets pulled out to expose a finely polished hardwood floor. A scent assailed his nostrils, and in that moment, Nathan wasn’t in Los Angeles. He was rushing into a decrepit temple in Argentina, chasing after Remy and a past he wished would stay buried. The space smelled like it had been steeped in the aroma, lush and ripe. Along the far wall, Gabriel knelt with his head bowed, facing the center of the room.

  The tableau there made Nathan’s blood run cold.

  A stone circle. Something gritty coating the circle’s interior. At its middle, Stacy, with eyes wide and her bare skin glowing.

  “You son of a bitch!”

  It took a fraction of a second too long for him to realize the furious cry came from Remy. It took another fraction for him to see she was racing for Stacy.

  Nathan actually touched her. His fingertips brushed against smooth leather. He closed his hand, trying to grasp her jacket, but he had jumped for her just one second too late.

  “Remy!”

  Her name was still echoing on the stripped walls when she disappeared in a flash of blue light. Nathan tripped over his own foot, landing hard on the floor just inches from the stone circle. He reached for her again, but there was nothing but air.

  Nothing in the room but air.

  She’s gone. She’s gone. She’s gone. Oh my God.

  Distantly, he heard sobbing and shouting. But he didn’t look away from the space she once occupied, the blue light splintering and refracting behind his eyes.

  In spite of everything he knew and everything he’d been told, Isaac wasn’t sure he actually expected to see what looked to be Gabriel doing some weird ritual to Stacy. He knew he didn’t expect to see Parker standing guard off to one side.

  And he definitely never expected Remy to leap forward before any of them had fully registered the situation, or to push Stacy out of the circle.

  Or to disappear in a blinding flash of blue, thunderous light.

  Olivia went straight for Stacy, but Gabriel was closer, grabbing the girl to his chest as he half-dragged her across the floor toward a door opposite the one they’d used to enter. Everything slowed and Isaac quickly ticked through the options. He should be the one going after Gabriel. He should be the one making the arrest. But he could not—would not—leave Nathan alone with Parker.

  Gabriel could kill her.

  Then Olivia’s voice, furious and tight, You don’t respect me and Why can’t you trust that I’m good at my job?

  “Go!” Isaac barked when she shot him a single glance. Nathan simply stood in the spot where he’d watched Remy disappear. He didn’t even seem cognizant of Parker pulling his gun. “I’ve got it here!”

  Olivia took off after Gabriel without further prompting, sprinting across the room to follow him out the door. Another woman immediately followed her—it could only be Marisol.

  “Freeze,” Isaac shouted. “Or I’ll shoot.”

  Marisol ignored him.

  “You can take your shot at her, but it’ll be the last thing you do, Detective.”

  Hearing that voice after six years was more real than seeing him standing in the same room. Isaac had lived with the sight of the man in his dreams for so long that Parker’s face was branded indelibly on his mind. The pale blond hair. The pale eyes. Tanned skin as if to make up for being so fair in every other way.

  But that voice. The smug baritone with just a hint of a Texas drawl. Isaac had blocked that out. Or forgotten it. Either way, the sound of it now made him see enough shades of red to bloody a battlefield.

  “Interesting company you’re keeping these days,” Isaac said as he slowly turned around to face Parker. Nathan still hadn’t moved. His gaze was fixed on the spot where Remy had disappeared. Not again. God, don’t make him go through this again. “Get tired of the stripes and stripes crowd?”

  “They offered me a deal and I took it. Why don’t you put your gun down, or I’ll shoot Pierce. Finish the job my girl couldn’t.”

  The heavy scent in the room made Isaac’s eyes water. He’d bet anything this was what Olivia had been experiencing. No wonder she’d gotten sick. It didn’t wash away the fact that Nathan was still playing statues, and Parker had turned his gun so that the muzzle was aimed at Nathan’s head.

  “You always did have lousy taste in colleagues,” Isaac said. But he knew he didn’t have a choice. He wasn’t going to risk Nathan getting hurt again. Slowly, he relaxed his hand on the grip, letting it dangle from his fingers, and bent to set it on the floor.

  “I’m on the winning team this time around. Your girlfriend is probably already dead. Kudos, by the way. She was smoking hot. When I saw the way she rode you, it made me miss Susanna, I’ll admit it.” He said the last with a smirk, and Isaac could see the light dancing in his eyes. He was enjoying every minute of this.

  The thought that Parker had done more than just torment Isaac made him want to tear the man’s head from his brain stem and feed it to Tiberius. He’d watched him and Olivia together. Probably the same night he’d trashed Isaac’s car. Was Olivia’s house bugged? Or did he just peeping tom his way into that information?

  “Miss a woman who’d spread her legs for anything with a pulse? Nah, I don’t get it.” Sorry, Nathan.

  “You would if you ever fucked her. And I know you wanted to. She used to tell me…everything.” Parker leveled the gun at Isaac’s head. “I had a lot of time to think about this, and I’ve decided if I had a do-over, I’d still shoot you first. Because I like you, McGuire, and I never liked Pierce. Bye.”

  A shot blasted through the room, the sound of it filling Isaac’s head. His skull and teeth vibrated, and he waited for the sharp pain that never came. Parker’s eyes widened, almost comically, and a bright red flower bloomed on his chest. A second shot followed. Then a third. And a fourth.

  Isaac spun around to face Nathan, whose finger was still pressed against the trigger. His eyes were hard, his lips thin, and he emptied his clip into Parker’s body.

  “Waiting until the last second is only ever a good idea in the movies.” Then, when he realized Nathan was still standing there unmoving, he added, more carefully, “Are you okay?”

  Nathan shook his head, looking like he�
�d swallowed his tongue. His hand fell uselessly to his side, as if the weight was just too much for him to bear. “I had a lot of time to think about it too,” he said hoarsely. “You need to go find Olivia.”

  Isaac glanced at the exit Olivia had used. Nathan was right. And as worried about him as he was, Gabriel was still on the loose.

  “What are you going to do?” he asked as he edged for the door.

  Nathan’s shoulders slumped, and he looked back to the empty circle. “I don’t know.”

  Isaac winced. The answer was the slightest of sounds, barely words at all. Nathan sounded like somebody had slit his throat again.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Olivia didn’t think. She just ran. She heard Gabriel ahead of her, dragging Stacy up a dark flight of stairs. He had the advantage in the dark house. She could only follow with her ears. Stacy kept screaming, a new shout following each thump of her body against the steps. As hard as it was to hear, Olivia thanked her for each one. Smart girl. Keep telling me where you are. She raced up the staircase, and she didn’t pause when she heard somebody behind her, running quickly and breathing hard.

  She nearly tripped when she reached the landing, but she regained her footing before she fell on her face. Her feet came down silently on the thick carpet. There wasn’t a single window, a single morsel of light from anywhere. Stacy’s shouts were cut off sharply, as if a hand fell over her mouth, and for a moment the silence completely disoriented Olivia. For a wild moment, she wished she had brought her coin. It would lead her to the girl, even if it stole the rest of her energy in exchange.

  She stopped for a moment, pressing herself flat against the wall, her ears straining in the darkness. Somebody was still behind her, and Gabriel was still somewhere in front of her, but with any luck the gloom would work in her benefit. Holding her breath, she willed herself to blend with the shadows. The earlier pain hadn’t faded, and now her body thrummed and pounded with Stacy’s fear. The race up the stairs had only exacerbated the headache, but Olivia forced herself to focus on the world beyond her immediate discomfort.

  One single fuck up would end it all. One bad second. One moment of hesitation.

  Click.

  A door opening. To her right, but close. Surprisingly close. Had Gabriel been within touching distance the whole time? She hoped he would be stupid enough to turn on a light, but the door shut again without another clue.

  She began walking again, running her hand along the wall, searching for the door. The tips of her fingers jammed into the molding, and she skimmed over it to press her palm against the hard wood of a door. The pain behind her eyes shattered, a bubble of red agony bursting, giving her immediate, but not complete, relief. Stacy was behind that door. Olivia didn’t have a doubt in her mind.

  She turned the knob quickly, ready to push into the room and save Stacy. It’s a trap. He would have locked the door. The thought hit her just as the door swung open, and she hit the floor, rolling away from the entrance as bullets whizzed over her head. The shots told her exactly where Gabriel stood and she remained on the floor, holding her breath once again.

  He fired into the darkness six times, then she heard him fumble. Looking for a light switch? She jumped to her feet and leveled her gun. When the lamp overhead sparked into life, her Glock was pointed between Gabriel’s eyes, and his gun was pointing at the floor.

  “Missed me,” Olivia said. “Now let her go.”

  Gabriel had Stacy trapped against his chest, his arm angled to pin his elbow across her breasts while his hand clamped over her mouth. His long fingers partially blocked her air, and the fresh scratches on his forearm indicated she had struggled—hard—to escape his grasp. It hadn’t worked, though. The steel determination in his eyes was chilling, his body unmoving.

  “Now why would I let her go when I’ve worked so hard to get her back, Detective?”

  “Because if you don’t, I’ll kill you.” She flicked her thumb over the safety.

  He didn’t blink. “I’m not afraid of dying.” His fingers closed over Stacy’s nose, pinching her nostrils shut. “Do you think Stacy is?”

  The pain that had disappeared as soon as she found Stacy spiked behind her eye. Her body jerked—she wanted to double-over and clutch her head and try to will the sting away, but she refused to leave herself vulnerable. She knew she couldn’t shoot in her condition. If she missed by less than an inch, she’d hit Stacy.

  “You’re not afraid of dying?” She wished her voice didn’t sound so weak. “Don’t you believe in hell?”

  His eyes narrowed as they swept over her in a calculated assessment. “Interesting. Have you developed such an affinity for your cases that you’re sympathetic to their pain? Or…”

  He loosened his hold over Stacy’s nose enough for her to breathe in shallow, audible pants. Though Olivia didn’t move, her muscles relaxed in tandem with Stacy’s. The lift of his brow meant Gabriel saw it, too, and the change in him was immediate.

  “You’re a Keeper.” He gestured at her with the empty gun as he pulled Stacy more tightly against his body. “You have the other coin.”

  A Keeper? She didn’t know what he was talking about, but she heard the capital letter when he said the word. She could deny she had the coin, but it hadn’t been a question. He knew somehow.

  “I do. It’s not here. And you’re not getting it.” She tried to gauge her chances of getting a clear shot, but Stacy completed shielded Gabriel’s body. “But it showed me what you were doing to the girls, and it showed me where to find you.”

  “Of course it did.” Like she’d said something stupid. “I knew setting those fires would find where that bitch hid the coin from me. You police are so reliable that way. I just never expected the cop to find it to be a Keeper.”

  She did not want to have a long chat with this man, especially with Stacy standing between them. But she had to know what was happening, and it didn’t look like anybody else could tell her.

  “What is a Keeper?”

  His mouth twisted into a knowing smile. “The guardian. To the Silver Maiden, to her priestesses. Your life is bound with theirs. You…” she could practically smell the hunger seeping from his pores. “…are as valuable as any of the others.”

  She didn’t believe in destiny, but it seemed everything in her life led up to Gabriel’s revelation. Her decision, over her father’s strenuous objections, to go to the Academy instead of the law school that had already accepted her. Her request for a transfer to Cold Cases just one week after Stacy’s case had been shuffled there. Agreeing to the not-really-a-date with Isaac, and following him from dinner to the arson.

  All of that, and more, so she could find the Silver Maiden. So she could protect it from a man who thought he was honoring it.

  “And you nearly blew my head off. I hope you take that as a lesson.”

  “I take it as fate. Because I don’t miss, Detective.” The sudden flicker of his gaze to the open doorway directed hers for the same fraction of a second his was there. The dark-haired woman she recognized from Isaac’s photograph stood there, breathing heavily. Marisol. “Don’t, prima. She’s a Keeper.”

  Olivia turned, trying to keep an eye on both Gabriel and Marisol. Marisol didn’t hear him. Or maybe she didn’t care. She had a small gun drawn, pointed directly at Olivia. Olivia stood between Stacy and Marisol, and if she moved to dodge the bullet, Stacy would take it in the chest.

  “There are others,” Marisol said. “We don’t need her.”

  “We haven’t been able to find one,” Gabriel reminded her.

  “The window is closing. The moon will set in fifteen minutes. We can find another Keeper.”

  Several gunshots from downstairs drowned her words. Olivia kept her focus on the woman, taking advantage of the sudden distraction to fire her own gun. The bullet ripped through Marisol’s arm, forcing her to drop her weapon and sending her reeling out of the room. She knew Isaac would be upstairs to find her—she couldn’t let herself believe he had b
een on the receiving end of those shots.

  “I don’t miss either, Gabriel. This is your last chance.”

  The dark house was a drawback. A huge drawback. Isaac had no idea which direction the others had taken, and without light, he couldn’t just arbitrarily open doors and look inside to see if they were there. He only knew they were upstairs. The boards creaking above his head were a dead giveaway.

  Then the shot gave away even more.

  It took too long to find the stairs, and he raced up them two at a time. Not Olivia. She’s not shot. She’s better than that. Better than the homicidal maniac I just sent her after…

  He stopped the train of thought before it careened out of control. Focus on the goal. Parker was down. Only two more left to go.

  He made it halfway up before a body slammed into him, nearly sending him tumbling back to the bottom. His hand shot out and grabbed the railing. It didn’t stop the runaway, though. The sound of rushing footsteps faded as whoever it was flew down the rest of the stairs.

  The person fleeing wasn’t Olivia. Which meant they were running from Olivia. She wasn’t hurt.

  He reversed his direction and practically leapt down the stairs. His heel skidded almost immediately on something wet. Bending down, he only had to touch the patch to know it was blood.

  Isaac hurried into the room he had just left, resisting the urge to close his eyes against the sudden light. Marisol stood in the circle of stone, blood flowing freely from the arm hanging uselessly at her side to stain the grit around her feet. She chanted in a language Isaac didn’t recognize, a language that sounded like nothing else he’d ever heard. A familiar blue light gathered at her feet.

  Nathan was only feet away, but Marisol didn’t acknowledge him, and Nathan did nothing to stop her.