Deliver Me from Chaos

by Tes Hilaire

  Katrina looked down at the offered hand. Knowing to take it was both a step forward and a step backward. But what choice did she have? She’d take the help, and then she’d leave. Hopefully her departure would not be too late to keep Angelina and all the other’s here safe.

  ***

  Mike stared at the smoldering grass of the clearing, his heart thundering in his chest as he watched the last of the evidence combust. Jessica had done this. Alex had taken one look at the pile of limbs and other body parts and claimed he was too tired to take care of it all. Luckily he managed to reach Jessica before she’d gotten all the way to that huge monstrosity of a base they called Haven. She’d sent Logan on, enlisted the aid of another Paladin, and zipped on back.

  “How?” he asked, still not sure he’d seen what he’d seen. She’d stepped into the clearing, shook her head. Then with a curt command for them all to step back, excepting the Paladin she’d brought to shield her, had proceeded to set fire to the pile of dismembered body parts. Whoosh. All evidence gone in about five seconds flat.

  “Training. Months and months of training,” she replied, her voice weary with exhaustion. She had dark circles under her eyes now as well.

  “And you always need someone to shield you when you use your, uh, gift?”

  “It helps. I still tend to overdo it. My control is still a bit inconsistent. It wasn’t until this last month that I even dared go out in public for fear of something setting me off and losing my control.”

  Was this why she hadn’t come to see him before, because she’d been otherwise occupied with her training? Had she been learning to control her gift so that she didn’t obliterate someone she happened to care about? Didn’t that make him feel like an ass.

  She turned to the warrior who’d come with her. A tall, lean blond haired man who, judging by his accent, had British heritage. “Thanks for shielding, Bennett. At least this one was more contained than the one Logan and I found yesterday.”

  “No problem, luv. Glad to help,” Bennett said, though it was said without any real emotion. In fact, the warrior had seemed detached the entire time he’d been there. He’d showed up with Jessica, offered some clever quips about the destruction, even laughed at Warren’s rather lame jokes, but despite the flashing dimples and attempts at humor, Mike had sensed that the warrior’s heart just hadn’t been in it. His focus obviously somewhere else.

  Mike had been so busy analyzing the warrior it took a second to process what Jessica said, but when he did, his heart rate picked up, his palms sweating. “What’s this about?”

  Jessica turned her gaze to him, her eyebrows rising. “Uh, oh… was that because of you, too? It certainly bore your, uh… calling card.”

  Mike felt light headed. His gut churning as the world around him tilted just a little bit. He was a berserker. The beast, the one riding inside him, what fueled his crazy killing sprees.

  A hand touched his arm, long lean fingers, yet firm, steading him. “Mike?” Jessica asked.

  “Six men. I killed six men. And now these…creatures, too.” He gestured toward the blackened area of grass. There was going to be no missing this. Someone was going to see it. Though thanks to her and the others’ efforts, all it would be was blackened grass. One large spot and some smaller areas of burnt lawn where Alex and Warren had spent the endless twenty minutes waiting for Jessica using their blades to purge.

  “Hey, it’s okay. If what Warren and Alex say is true, your inner beast is kind of picky.”

  “But is it picky enough?”

  She looked at him steadily. “I don’t know, you tell me.”

  So he did. He told them about how he’d been trying to track down a new drug that was out on the street. One that appeared to make the user go suicidal after the initial high was over. That is, suicidal in the get a cop to kill you kind of way. He’d followed a lead, albeit slim, and ended up facing off against six men who wanted to make him a “convert.” He’d been outnumbered, a scuffle had ensued. One of them had come after him with that vial of black shit, and then…

  “Then you lost it?” Warren guessed.

  Mike closed his eyes and swallowed, pushing back the bile that threatened to rise in his throat. At least he hadn’t thrown up this time. Or maybe that wasn’t good. Christ, he didn’t want to think about what he might have inadvertently swallowed in rending mode.

  He opened his eyes. Jessica was gnawing her lip, her brow furrowed in thought. It was so close to the expression she’d worn when she mulled over the evidence of a case that for a second he was brought back in time. Damn he missed her.

  They’d never really gotten into the rhythm of being partners, but when they had worked together, the click had been good. She was smart, dedicated, and tough as nails. And yeah, her being sexy as hell hadn’t hurt. A couple times he had entertained the idea of dating her, but it had never gone anywhere. Partly because she hadn’t reciprocated any interest, but mostly because she’d been a damn fine cop and he’d refused to jeopardize their partnership by making it feel weird.

  “You said the stuff in the vial was black?” Jessica asked.

  Mike nodded.

  “How about your neck? Did it tingle when you were around it?”

  “More than that. Felt like I’d come down with a case of full blown hives.”

  Jessica’s eyes darkened, her mouth pinching.

  “What are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking it’s too coincidental that both these black blades and the drug you were tracking down make humans go insane in the homicidal kind of way. But I need more evidence to prove it before we latch on to that theory.”

  And that was why she was a good cop. She saw to the heart of things, but wasn’t so stubborn that she’d refused to alter course if new evidence came up that blew her ideas out of the water.

  She turned to Bennett. “I want to get back to Haven. Logan will be in a bad mood after dealing with his father. And I need to tell him about this.”

  “Your chariot awaits,” Bennett said with a dramatic lead-the-way flourish. Mike watched as they picked up the path that edged the clearing. He should have said thank you. Though it was just as obvious that this was common practice in their world.

  Stay low under the radar. Hide the evidence. Keep the humans in the dark.

  He wasn’t sure he agreed with that mindset, but he did understand. God knew he wouldn’t have believed in all this if he hadn’t lived it himself. And if someone else had come to him saying they’d left a dead body in the alley or park, but hey, it was okay because they were pure evil? Um, yeah, can you say lock up for life, your choice of padded or unpadded?

  A thought struck him. Jessica had cleared the evidence. No, not cleared, completely obliterated.

  And not just this time either. It seemed she’d taken care of the remains of his adventures from last night, too. Which meant there was nothing to tie him to the destruction he’d wrought.

  He could go back to his life. No harm, no foul. The only thing that could fuck it up would be if the beast decided to poke its head out at an inopportune time.

  Or if a certain witness decided to speak up.

  Fuck, where had Katrina gone? He’d promised to help her and had led her on what must have seemed a random goose chase that had gone south fast. Even if she had been inclined to hang around long enough to see what happened, she wouldn’t have stayed once he’d been spirited away by Jessica and her friends.

  An entire day had passed since. Most of the waking hours gone to his recovery, then the evening and half the night to tracking and killing the creatures that, okay, were most definitely creatures that could only have come from hell. And she was out there looking for her daughter. Alone. And up against both her ex and whoever his lackeys where.

  Something nagged at the back of his mind. A bit of elusive knowledge that had his palms slicking with sweat.

  His jaw ticked, pieces of the puzzle slid together in his mind. Katrina had said all she knew of the Paladin she’d be
en told by her ex and the men that worked for him. But how had they known?

  Fuck. Was her ex mixed up with these merker somehow? If so, then she was in way over her head. No human could hope to fight these sorts of creatures. Not and live.

  The beast growled, snapping with impatience. Have to find her. Now.

  “We better get back, too.” Alex stood, brushing his pants off. He’d been inspecting the ground for any residual power signatures and was apparently satisfied there wasn’t any.

  Mike nodded to acknowledge he’d heard, but when the two warriors turned and started up the path he didn’t move.

  “Hey, Mike, aren’t you coming?” Warren called, the concern evident in his voice.

  Mike dragged his gaze from the charred ground, saw the wariness in one warrior’s eyes, and the confusion in the others. They were both good men. He should follow them. Learn what he could. But that was going to have to wait.

  “No, I have some things to take care of first.”

  Chapter Ten

  Mike climbed the steps of the 41st precinct, determination powering him up the cement stairs two at a time.

  Over twenty-four hours since he’d last seen Katrina. He’d spent the rest of the night looking for her and hadn’t found a thing. Okay, not true. He had found out where she hadn’t gone: home. None of her neighbors had seen her—not surprising in that hellhole—and her apartment had the stale quality of someplace that had not seen life in days. She also hadn’t been back to the alley that they’d first run into each other at. Nor had she returned to the Cloisters. From there he’d let the beast surface enough to trace her trail to Broadway, but there he lost it. Probably hailed a cab or something. He just hoped to hell that’s all that had happened there.

  He was hoping to get some of his own answers here. He may not know her last name, but he did know his beauty’s address. From that he should have no trouble pulling up her information. Maybe something he found would give him insight into where she might hole up when she wasn’t searching. If nothing else, it would give him more insight into her past and from there perhaps he could analyze where to concentrate his search efforts.

  Before him the heavy doors loomed. He pushed them open. Waving to the officer manning the front desk, hoping he’d get a quick wave and a pass directly to go, collect your buzz through to the back.

  But… it was a no go. Crap.

  The officer sat up straighter, waving him over. “Hey Mike! Wow, Banks is going to be glad to see you. He was not happy when it was apparent you’d gone MIA.”

  “Hi there, Evan. I got caught up in a bit of a mystery is all.”

  “New case? Old case?”

  “Bit of both.”

  Evan’s brow winged up as he leaned over the desk further. “Sounds interesting. Want to hit the bar later to discuss it?”

  Mike inwardly groaned. He honestly didn’t get why Evan’s had been so interested in him and his cases recently. Though, he supposed, if he’d drawn the short straw and gotten front desk detail, he’d be looking for something, anything, more interesting.

  Or perhaps it was something more?

  He frowned, tipping his head. Nothing. No itch. No heebee jeebies. Perhaps it was just since Mike was still partnerless after Jessica’s death, maybe Evan’s was hoping Mike was his ticket out of there. “Can’t tonight. Maybe another time though.”

  “Oh. Okay. No problem. Another time,” he agreed, buzzing Mike through.

  Mike tried to soften the blow with a thanks smile and a wave as he passed through. He managed to make it back to his cubicle without any further obligatory conversations and settled in. It took his computer an annoyingly long amount of time to boot up, but once it got chugging he kept it busy with prevailing optimism.

  Over an hour later he had to admit that he was coming up with a whole lot of nothing. Okay, not nothing, but not much useful. The apartment had been easy enough to find and was listed as being rented by a Katrina Lund. Katrina Lund always paid her bills, had no violations on record…and had absolutely no records from before five years ago. He did find Mia’s birth record: home birth, registered with the city a couple days later, no father listed. She carried no credit cards. Had no bank account. And no driver’s license. The only thing he had managed to find, again thanks to her apartment application, was where she worked: a strip club down on Lafayette –and didn’t that make his blood boil?

  Who are you, Katrina? Where were you before?

  That’s what had been nagging him back at the park: she fully believed in the Paladin. Furthermore, she seemed to believe in their mission to rid the world of evil. Yet, according to her, she’d only ever been told about them. But if she’d only ever been told, then why was she scared of them? Why be scared of a group of individuals who were all honor-bound to help those in need by fighting the evil that threatened them? Wouldn’t if figure that she’d want to seek out their aid?

  Unless she thought she’d done something so wrong that they wouldn’t help her.

  Shit. What have you gotten yourself into, beauty?

  He opened a new window, started to type in another search. Heavy footfalls sounded behind him. He quickly switched windows on his browser, pretending to peruse an article on a recent knifing. It was actually something he was interested in. Especially after last night, having come into close contact with that black blade.

  A throat cleared. He swiveled in his chair, his gaze lifting to the scowling face of Sergeant Banks.

  “Hey, Sergeant,” he said, trying to plaster on a smile.

  “That have anything to do with whatever you’ve been working on?” The sergeant jerked his chin at the article on Mike’s screen.

  Mike shook his head. “Not sure, but I haven’t finished reading it all.”

  “All right. Come to my office when you’re finished with that.” Banks spun around, his wide shoulders stiff as he walked back through the maze of cubicles to the short hall that led to his office. Definitely not happy.

  Mike blew out a breath and, deciding to get the dress down over with, closed down his computer and followed.

  His reception into the boss’s office wasn’t any more welcoming and he settled resignedly in the straight-backed chair in front of Banks desk as he waited for acknowledgement of his presence. It was a make-them-uncomfortable kind of chair. Some of his fellow officers thought Banks used it in order to make his officers squirm, but Mike suspected it was simply a matter of budgeting. Otherwise why would Banks have such a crappy chair on his own side of the desk?

  “How is the lead going?” Banks asked, shuffling some papers to the side of his desk.

  “What lead?”

  Banks looked up, his gaze skewering. “Oh, come on, Mike. For you to be out of contact for so long means you had a lead.”

  “Yeah, well. It didn’t amount to anything concrete.”

  “Anything not so concrete?” The chair groaned as Banks leaned back in it. The sergeant wasn’t fat, but he was big and wide and starting to get the typical desk job pouch.

  Mike pulled his bottom lip, trying to decide how much to offer. Obviously not the whole evil walks among us crap. But damn if they didn’t need some warning. That article may have been there as a red herring to anyone who walked by his desk, but it had rung a chord as he’d skimmed it over. Homicidal knife man who seemed determined to commit suicide via a cop’s bullet. How many more cases like that were there out there?

  He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Last few weeks there has been some whispers of a new drug on the street. I decided to pull some toes.”

  “Any squealing?”

  “Not exactly, more hushed whispers. Seems this isn’t the type of drug that’s sold to just anyone. You need an in, and you need to be willing to buy into their agenda.”

  “And that would be?”

  “Not sure. But what I got from one of my informants is that even if you do manage to join the club, you aren’t automatically selected to receive the drug. Only a select few are special enoug
h to achieve that status.”

  “Guess that’s somewhat of a blessing. Don’t have to worry about this being widespread.”

  Mike shook his head, Banks didn’t understand the importance yet. “You haven’t asked me what it’s called.”

  Bank’s brow winged toward the ceiling. “Is that relevant?”

  “Oh yeah, it’s relevant. They call the drug Rapture. Anyone who takes the black liquid will be given over to enlightenment where they’ll be given a divine mission before being given their eternal reward.”

  “Eternal reward?” Banks asked uneasily. “That sounds suspiciously like you have to die to receive it.”

  Mike nodded. “That’s the impression I got.”

  “Well shit.” Banks ran his hands through his thinning hair, scrubbing his scalp. He locked gazes with Mike from between his arms. “That stabbing article you were looking at. You think this drug could result in homicidal rampages like that?”

  “I can’t confirm it yet, but yes.”

  The silence stretched as Banks dropped his arm, picking back up his pen, and resumed the tapping pattern on his desk. His mouth pulled down in a frown, his forehead bunching to produce some major Shar-Pei wrinkles between his thick brows.

  Any other time Mike would have been content to wait it out, let the sergeant collect his thoughts. But the driving need to get back out there and find Katrina was eating at what little patience he had.

  He about got up to leave when Banks spoke. “Night before last, there was an incident downtown. Well, more of a massacre really. People are thinking it was a terrorist attack, but maybe not.”

  “Wait, is this that massacre that happened in Grand Central?” Mike had heard about it on the radio as he’d driven around the city trying to find Kat. Some madman had taken out seven civilians. He’d died by a cop’s bullet, too.

  Banks nodded.

  Mike grunted. “Yup, that would fit with what I’m hearing about this drug. Has he been identified yet?”

  “No, took almost twenty shots to take him down. Three of which were head shots.”