Shadow Fall

by Glass, Seressia

  “Great. And what if we make the wrong choice?”

  “Then we fix it.”

  Kira’s mobile chimed. “Crap. That’s Sanchez.” She touched her earpiece to answer the phone. “Solomon here.”

  “The SRT was unsuccessful in retrieving Hammond,” the section chief said, her tone clipped.

  “Dammit!”

  “What is it?” Khefar asked as he slowed the car down.

  “They didn’t find Hammond,” she mouthed before turning her attention back to the phone. “Chief, do you mean that they couldn’t locate him or he was already gone when they got there?”

  “One of the sweepers managed to tag him. He’s renting one of the condos across from Olympic Park instead of staying in a hotel. By the time Spec Team One got there, he was gone. Looked like he left in a hurry, judging by the looks of the place. I’m en route to HQ. I want you and the Nubian to meet the SRT at Olympic Park Towers. See if you can get any hits off the place.”

  “Ma’am, I really think we should go on to the Congress Center,” Kira said, keeping in mind Khefar’s suggestion of having more boots on the ground. “Hammond may be heading there.”

  “If he is, we need to have a better idea of what we’re facing, Chaser Solomon,” Sanchez replied, her voice stern. “I’m not risking you or any of the response teams because we didn’t take the time to gather more information. The exhibit is closed for now. We have eyes on the scene, and there has been no activity since we left the hospital. Take the time to do this right, Solomon, so we can minimize the collateral damage.”

  Kira ground her teeth in frustration. She knew the section chief was right. Going off half-cocked would only get them in a whole world of trouble. The last thing she wanted to do was lose any more people. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “All right.” Sanchez seemed surprised that Kira hadn’t argued further. Kira was a little surprised herself. “Report back to HQ the minute you have information.”

  “Of course. Solomon out.” She disconnected.

  Khefar sped the car back up. “Did you just agree to follow one of Sanchez’s orders?”

  “Yeah, don’t rub it in. They came up empty at the condo Hammond is renting. Sanchez wants me over there to see what sort of lead I can pick up. The SRT is already waiting on us there.”

  “How are we going to find him?” Khefar asked. “Do you think he found out that we were onto him?”

  “He knew from the moment he gave Wynne that scarab that I would be coming after him,” Kira said, curling her hands into fists. She jammed her knuckles into her knees. “He’s probably at the exhibit now, waiting for us. Daring us to come after him, that supercilious son of a bitch!”

  “All the more reason to go in with a team, fully prepared for whatever he decides to throw at us.” Khefar paused. “Are you going to tell Sanchez about your dream?”

  “About Set wanting me to join him or die?” Kira shook her head. “Me and Sanchez seem to be on good terms right now. I’m pretty sure that knowing that an Egyptian god of chaos thinks I’m part of his family at the same time that an exhibit on the Egyptian afterlife is stealing souls would strain my credibility with the section chief.”

  “You’re probably right. Where to?”

  “Olympic Park. We’re meeting the SRT at the Olympic Towers. Hammond rented a condo there for the duration of the exhibit.”

  Khefar darted a look at her before looking for a way to backtrack from Midtown to Olympic Park. “You know it might come out when we get to the exhibit. If Set is going to make an appearance anywhere, it will be there.”

  “I know.” She stared at the window as downtown Atlanta swept by. “I’ll have to cross that bridge when I come to it.”

  “But—”

  “But nothing. I’m not giving up my Lightblade without a fight. Trust me, if the god of storms and chaos is wanting me on his side, I’m going to fight with everything I’ve got to ruin his plans.”

  Chap†er 19

  Kira’s cell rang again. She touched her headset. “Solomon here.”

  “Kira, darling,” Bale’s smooth voice purred in her ear. “How much do you love me?”

  “Jessen didn’t waste any time contacting you, I see,” she said, torn between admiration and irritation. “Can you make this quick? While I appreciate the information you gave me, I’m kind of in the middle of something here.”

  “You didn’t answer my question,” he chided her.

  “Fine. I love you when you’re useful,” she retorted, ignoring Khefar’s jerk of the steering wheel in reaction. “Now, do you have something for me?”

  “I do indeed, my dear Shadowchaser.” Laughter lined the banaranjan’s voice. “Unlike your Special Response Team, my people had a most successful hunt.”

  She motioned for Khefar to stop the car. “Bale, what did you do?” The banaranjan laughed again, and Kira realized he was on an adrenaline high. “Bale. Are you saying that you found Hammond?”

  “Found him and am on the way to delivering him.”

  Dread filled Kira’s stomach. “Delivering him where?”

  “To Gilead, of course.”

  “Dammit, Bale! Don’t you realize that if you show up with Hammond at Gilead, security will shoot first and ask questions later?”

  “Hammond hurt my people,” Bale said, completely unfazed by Kira’s warning. “You are lucky you’re getting him at all. It is only because of the regard I have for you and the continued goodwill of the human community that you are getting such excellent prey.”

  “Khefar, we need to get to Gilead, now.”

  The car leapt forward as Khefar depressed the pedal. “Are you flying or driving, Bale?”

  “Which do you think?”

  “Bale. Snap the hell out of your adrenaline high and give me some details here. I’m trying to keep you from getting killed in your absolutely fucking stupidity!”

  Bale sighed. “You sure know how to be a buzz kill, Kira, my dear. It is hardly my fault that your Mr. Hammond is so adrenaline rich. His taste is … delicious.”

  “You scared him, didn’t you? Did you at least get some information out of him?”

  “Probably nothing you can use,” the banaranjan replied. “We will meet you atop the gilded towers of Gilead.”

  Kira pressed the heel of her hand to her temple, which did nothing to relieve her headache. “Taking him to Gilead means you may all get your damn fool heads shot off, Bale!”

  “Then I trust that you’ll send word of our arrival. I would hate for our party favor to be damaged because we’re not on the invite list.”

  “Bale? Bale!” He’d disconnected. “Son of a bitch!”

  “What is it?” Khefar asked, pausing at a traffic light.

  “Get us to Gilead pronto.” Kira dialed Sanchez on her phone. “Section Chief, we’ve got trouble.”

  “What sort of trouble, Solomon? Have you rendezvoused with the Special Response Team yet?”

  “No, there’s no need to do that now. I just got a call from the leader of the banaranjan community. They’ve apprehended our suspect and are bringing him into custody. They’re going to drop him off—and I mean that in every literal sense—on the roof of Gilead East.”

  “Dammit, Solomon! How did that happen?”

  “Apparently the informant who gave me information on the other victims gave the banaranjans information about our prime suspect,” Kira said, making a mental note to twist wings and take names later. “We’re a minute out. I don’t know how long before Bale and his people get there, but it will be minutes, since they’re flying. Send a team up, but for the love of Light, don’t allow them to engage. Banaranjans feed off adrenaline, and the easiest way to get it on a roof is by throwing people off of it.”

  Sanchez paused. “If they attack my people—”

  “I’m not going to let that happen,” Kira assured the section chief. “Tell them to stand down and not engage. If any of them can’t keep their emotions under control, they don’t need to go out on the roof
.”

  Another choice expletive spilled through Kira’s earpiece. “I’m sending multiple strike teams to the roof as well as SRTs Two and Four. Get your ass over here now.” The section chief disconnected.

  “Two hangups in a row,” Kira said, ripping her earpiece off to satisfy her need to do something. “If we don’t get to Gilead East in the next thirty seconds, all kinds of hell are going to break loose.”

  “They need to be careful,” Khefar warned. “Banaranjans are dangerous even when they aren’t on an adrenaline high.”

  Kira cut a glance at him. “You said something to Bale about them at the fund-raiser. I guess you’ve had experience with them?”

  “Not the way you have. My experience was mostly battle related—like I told you before, I was there when Mehmed the Conqueror ruled the Ottoman Empire. The banaranjans served several sultans as their personal guards. From what I understand, they learn to be vicious and quick from the crèche.”

  “The strong eat and the weak get eaten,” Kira murmured.

  “Exactly. Their love of combat and inner dominance squabbles kept the population low. At some point, however, one of the viziers convinced the sultan that the banaranjans had outlived their usefulness.”

  “I bet that went over well.”

  “Like the proverbial lead balloon,” Khefar answered. “After all, banaranjans only have loyalty to themselves and whichever one is strong enough to lead. They … withdrew their support of the sultanate in a dramatic fashion. A lot of them died. The remaining banaranjans retreated to the mountains and the Empire continued its long march to dissolution.”

  “They’ve adapted like every other race has adapted,” Kira said, watching the city whiz by her window. “Those who left Turkey seemed to adapt from participating in wars for harvesting adrenaline to using sporting events instead. Almost all of the banaranjans here in town seem more than capable of suppressing the more violent tendencies of their nature. Bale has a lot to do with that.”

  “Yet he’s the one inciting a firefight by bringing a high-profile suspect of unknown power to Gilead’s doorstep,” Khefar pointed out. “Sometimes nature wins out.”

  Kira fell silent. Unfortunately, when it came to fighting her inner demons, she had no idea which side of her nature would win.

  What was fortunate was that Peachtree Street was nearly deserted, giving them a straight shot into Midtown and the glass and steel fortification of Gilead East’s headquarters. As Khefar pulled onto the ramp for the underground parking garage, Kira belatedly remembered the Shadowblade tucked in a second sheath under her left arm. “Crappity crap.”

  “What now?” Khefar asked.

  Rhino stood beside the security kiosk, the detaining arm already raised. He waved as he recognized Kira, and she relaxed. “I was worried about the layers of security that would trip with the presence of the dagger. Since Rhino’s waving us in, I guess they temporarily lowered the security level.”

  She could feel his eyes on her, as if he knew it wasn’t a complete answer. It was the truth, though; she just wanted him to believe she meant the Dagger of Kheferatum and not the new blade she’d acquired.

  She had no idea why she had brought it with her. It seemed important that she have the blade on hand. Besides, she always had at least two other blades on her person in addition to her Lightblade. Now she had an extra one that was forged with Shadow magic.

  Khefar braked to a stop, rolling down the window as Rhino gestured to them. “Security’s already waiting for you at the elevator, Kira,” he told her. “The last lift at the end of the bay will express you up. The chief’s waiting too.”

  “Thanks, Rhino.”

  At Kira’s direction, Khefar made a couple of quick turns lower into the parking deck, passing through another barrier waiting open for them. He parked the Charger between two black SUVs. Kira had her door open before he killed the engine, moving quickly to the waiting freight elevator and the pair of officers in black tactical gear.

  “Chaser Solomon,” the male said with a nod as the female keyed a code into the data panel on the left side of the elevator doors. “I suggest feet shoulder-width apart but not locking your knees. This is going to be a fast ride.”

  She complied, noted that Khefar did the same. The female officer placed her palm against the panel. It flashed blue as it scanned her hand. As it flashed white, the elevator lifted off smoothly, but Kira could feel the tingle along her arms as it magically gathered speed. Pressure increased with the speed of her ascent, pushing her down and making her want to lock her knees. She was grateful the energy bars were the only things in her stomach as her equilibrium went haywire.

  Gilead East was typical of the buildings in Midtown: tall, glass, modern. Gilead’s building encompassed more than twenty-five floors aboveground and at least five below. It would normally take several minutes to traverse the elevator’s route even without stopping on every floor. They were traveling fast—faster than Kira’s brain wanted to account for—causing her to shut her eyes and grit her teeth as magic and physics fought, scratched, and crawled to a draw.

  Her stomach leapt to her throat as the elevator car abruptly slowed before stopping. The male guard murmured something into his earpiece, and nodded to the other guard. She tapped a code into the panel. The doors slid open onto a long utilitarian corridor painted discount gray and lit by a row of fluorescent light bars running down the center of the ceiling.

  “I never want to do that again,” Khefar finally said, slowly stepping out of the elevator.

  “Most people don’t,” the male guard said. He pointed down the corridor. “The way is safe now. Follow that to the end. There’s a short flight of stairs leading up to the roof access. Rigger will be waiting to guide you the rest of the way.”

  “Thanks.” They made their way down the hall, their heavy boots loud on the polished concrete floor.

  “Should I even ask what he meant by that whole ‘the way is safe’ thing?” Khefar asked.

  “I’ve only been up here once or twice. I know there are usually lasers on when no one’s up here. Maybe they’ve installed something nastier that would activate if we don’t make it off the roof or if Gilead East is ever attacked from above. Hopefully Bale and his people won’t give us cause to find out.”

  The corridor made a sharp ninety-degree turn before abruptly stopping at a reinforced door of heavy steel. Another guard in full black combat gear waited there, assault rifle pointed at the floor. “Ma’am, sir,” he said, “if you would please step on the mat.”

  Khefar raised an eyebrow, but complied. Kira stepped onto the mat beside him. The guard punched a string of code into the data panel beside the door. A swoosh of powerful energy swept through Kira, prickling her extrasense like a cotton sock fresh from the dryer. She could sense the defense grid filling the corridor with a fine mesh. Since the guard had them stand on the mat, it obviously didn’t matter whether someone from Light or Shadow stepped into the corridor. If anything dared walk down the hallway, that pattern of energy would rip them to ribbons.

  The guard pushed the door outward and raised his gun. “Please follow me.”

  Frigid air rushed down at them as they climbed the steep concrete steps up to the rooftop proper. Kira had a feeling the below-freezing temperature would be the least of her problems.

  She strode to the center of the helicopter pad, hand on the hilt of her Lightblade to keep her anger from boiling over. The banaranjans usually kept their night flying to the upper atmosphere or heavily storming or cloudy nights. This frigid early-December morning was neither. Sanchez wasn’t happy about the banaranjans intercepting their suspect, and Kira completely understood. Gilead didn’t have to follow mundane protocols when it came to their investigations, but they did have rules. If Bale and his clan ruined their chances to get useful information out of Hammond …

  She huddled in her battered trench coat, shoulders tightened against the cold and the tension. Twenty-five stories up in the wind tunnel of the Mid
town Atlanta corridor was not the way she wanted to spend a night. Then again, being called to the hospital wasn’t a stroll in the park either.

  She surveyed the rooftop again. Sanchez stood to her left, Khefar to her right, slightly ahead and a little apart so they could both draw their weapons if the need arose.

  The section chief’s demeanor, cool, authoritative, and composed, spread out from her—an invisible mist blanketing the support personnel arranged around them. The subtle and overt energies of command were magical in their own way as Sanchez held her subordinates steady and in place by the sheer force of her will. It made Kira wonder how far the section chief’s military career would have gone if her niece hadn’t been killed by a Shadowling during summer camp.

  A heavily armed security team, some thirty in all, formed a half-moon behind them, weapons ready but lowered. Sharpshooters had stationed themselves behind the HVAC units to provide cover fire if need be. Kira couldn’t see them now, but she’d noticed a pair of snipers in night-vision goggles and anti-detection gear settle into place, their surface-to-air weapons trained on the frigid night sky. For an emergency deployment, Sanchez had assembled an oppressive force.

  Kira hoped the section chief wouldn’t have cause to open fire. For banaranjans, adrenaline was like catnip. Fear, excitement—any emotion that caused a surge of human adrenaline—would be exploited and metabolized into an intoxicant. The last thing they needed was the murders of stoned banaranjans landing on the roof.

  There was an ace in the hole, Kira realized. With the helicopter pad empty, she could clearly see the steel graphic swirled into the concrete roof: one large circle outlined by stone pillars that stood over three feet high. They weren’t ordinary pillars, though: instead of reinforced concrete, rock crystal, quartz, and salts composed the cylindrical structures. The minerals were good power conductors, and being exposed to the constant barrage of the elements, charging up on sunshine and moonlight, they would make excellent boosters for someone looking to enhance their magical strength.