by T. G. Ayer
Logan paused, his jaw tightening. Then he looked off into nothing again and cleared his throat. “I hope you’re right.” He turned and focused his attention back on the shooters across the street. “I really hope you’re right.”
We couldn’t sit here forever being shot at. And who knew when they would decide to explode the car again.
“Cover me,” I told Logan and dashed around the far end of the car.
Logan opened fire and the Omega agents responded. As I rounded the car I kept an eye on them, especially the redhead who was closer to me.
Walker speed made me light on my feet and super-fast. When I got to the redhead’s side, she hardly had time turn those deep green eyes my way before I hit her. Her head bounced against the ground as I grabbed her gun and flung the weapon in Logan’s direction. It hit the blacktop with a clatter and scraped across the hard surface.
She groaned and lifted her head, her eyes going wide at the sight of my face. Then she passed out, blood glinting at her temple. Its scent wafted toward me, and something about her blood smelled odd, just a note that didn’t fit.
I shook my head. Probably oversensitive with all the mayhem around me.
But there wasn’t time to analyze. I sank to the floor just in time. One of the other agents scrambled closer to me, a gun pointed straight at my bleeding shoulder. His hands trembled, probably in fear of my partially transformed face.
Deciding to use that fear to my advantage I took a deep breath and allowed the panther inside me to growl. The rumble from my throat, coating the air around us.
The agent’s eyes widened. His skin paled. His hands began to shake. I breathed in his scent. He was so young.
I took a step closer to him.
He stayed where he was, perspiration popping on his forehead. He looked like he was about to faint.
I snatched the gun out of his hand leaving him standing there, mouth open, eyes wide, his breath coming in terrified whoops.
I growled again and tilted my head as if considering.
He ran. At the corner of the street he glanced over his shoulder. Then he rounded the bend and disappeared.
Two down, two to go—and one of those two was approaching me from the other side of the car, all in black except for his face. He smelled human and carried the same strange odor as the redhead. He wasn’t bleeding so maybe the scent wasn’t only in the blood. Drugs?
A shadow flickered in my peripheral vision as the fourth agent ran for his life. Guess he didn’t believe in leaving no man behind.
My opponent however, faced me down, strangely unafraid of me. His eyes narrowed, anger flaring in his eyes.
I tensed.
And moved closer to him, the other agent’s gun weighing my hand down, reminding me that I too had a weapon. I raised it and aimed it at him. From the calm expression on his face, I wondered if the weird ammunition in the gun would have no effect on him.
My eyes never left his.
The slight twitch in his cheek was enough of a warning that he was about to shoot. As I pulled the trigger, I darted to the left just as his barrel exploded, sending a bullet straight toward me. Had I not moved, it would have embedded itself beside the other one in my shoulder.
The agent grunted. He probably thought he was a crack shot. And maybe he was. I was just faster than most of his prey.
The only problem now was that my bullet had gone wide, and now I had to kill him if I expected to survive.
I didn’t want to kill him. But when he raised the gun again, and pointed it straight at my head I had no choice left.
I sprang forward, claws extended sharp and ready to rip flesh, sever veins and arteries.
A shot rang out.
The agent’s eyes popped wide. Blood gushed from a hole in his throat. The muzzle of his gun tilted down as his grip loosened on the weapon. The gun hit the ground first. The man followed, crumbling at the knees.
I didn’t move. My body felt numb.
In the end, I would have killed him.
Thanks to Logan, I hadn’t needed to.
Chapter 27
THE STREET ECHOED WITH ITS emptiness.
The redhead groaned, as she regained consciousness at my feet. She scrambled onto wobbly legs and grabbed for the pistol from her hip holster, but came up empty.
Nerina stood beside the agent, her face impassive, the missing gun dangling from her fingers.
The agent snapped her blazing eyes to the DeathTalker, and her lip curled. And I found myself fascinated by the fact that her eyes were almost the same green as mine. Similar, and yet so different.
“They’ll come looking for you.” Her voice was deep, and cracked as she coughed.
I shrugged. “Let them come. I have witnesses.” I gave a cold smile. “I didn’t kill anyone.”
The agent glanced around me, her eyes going a shade darker as she registered the corpse of her partner. Logan had left him where he’d fallen, probably in order to do a quick recon of the area. The last thing we needed was to be fired upon by someone else.
She gave a nod in her partner’s direction. “What about him? He looks dead.”
“Wasn’t me.” I watched her, saw her jaw tighten ever so slightly. “The game’s up. Who do you work for?”
She let out a harsh laugh. The sound ending with her bent over, her body spasmed by a succession of ragged coughs. She sounded like a dying chain smoker. At last she wheezed to a halt and straightened, her smile knowing, confident.
“I’m not saying shit.”
“We have ways to make you talk,” I said, trying to sound serious. It must have worked because Nerina’s eyebrows rose.
But the redhead snorted. “We know who you are, Hunter. Despite your long list of kills you’re no murderer.”
She knew more about me than I knew about her, and I didn’t like the way the scales were tipping.
“Even so,” I said. “I’m not afraid to do what I have to. I will get the information that I need.”
“Not from me.” She sounded too cocky.
“I wouldn’t be too sure about that.” But something felt off.
Her skin turned pallid and gleamed with sweat. Her hands balled into tight fists and the whites of her eyes turned pink. Then red.
“Shit,” I yelled, leaping the three feet between us.
But I was too late. She’d held out long enough to make it impossible to save her.
I caught her by the waist as she fell. Lowered her to the ground. Checked her neck for a pulse. It was there, but my panther hearing told me it was too slow. And slower. Slower still.
I grabbed her chin, opened her mouth.
Sighed.
Sat back on my heels. “Damn it.”
“What is it?” asked Nerina walking closer.
“Can you not tell?” I asked, unable keep the snap from my tone. “She’s dead, I would have thought you’d be an expert in the field.”
Nerina smiled, despite my attitude. “I specialize in what comes after death.”
She sank down beside the dead girl, and looked as I pointed at the exposed tongue. “See how it’s all blue and shriveled.”
Nerina nodded. The mangled mess had once been pink and flushed with blood. Now it looked like a piece of dead meat infected by a rabid fungus.
“Poison,” said Logan. He’d come up so quietly that I twitched at the sound of his voice. He touched my shoulder in silent apology. “Some of the Omega agents use a deadly poison when they go out on sensitive missions,” he said. “I’ve only ever heard of an agent using it once in all the time that I’ve worked for Omega.”
“What kind of poison?” I asked, appalled and yet fascinated.
“It’s a poison extracted from the Devil’s Spike plant.” When I raised an eyebrow at the unfamiliar name he said, “It’s a succulent from the Faelands.”
“Of course, it is,” I said dryly, wishing more than ever that Tara was around to answer my growing list of questions.
I sighed and placed my hands on m
y hips. When in doubt act like you’re cool, stand like you’re in charge, and bullshit like you know what you’re doing. “So we have two dead agents.”
“Maybe,” Logan said. “I’ll have to check the database. I don’t recognize these two.”
“No reason why you should,” I said, studying the bodies.
“True. I don’t know all the agents on the Chicago team.”
“That’s not what I meant.” I leaned closer to the mangled agent and took a second sniff. “Unless Omega Chicago routinely uses humans on their missions, I’d say these two are not Omega. Or not directly Omega.”
I didn’t mention the odd smell of their blood. Not until I was sure what I was talking about.
Logan grunted, taking his tablet out to get a photograph of the girl. I’d already heard him snap a few off of the other agent. “This makes no sense.”
“And yet strangely it makes a lot of sense.” Nerina scanned the area around us as she spoke.
“I take it your friend made a run for it in the drama?” I asked Logan.
Logan withered me with a look. “He’s not my friend.”
Touched a nerve, did I? “But you know him?”
He gave a terse shake of his head, his jaw tightening as he stared at the redhead’s corpse. “He’d seemed familiar at first. It can’t be him, though. If it is, then Omega could be behind all of this.”
I understood his difficulty. He’d been with Omega since he was twelve and came into his power. The organization was practically his family. Imagining they could be involved in mass paranormals slayings, was probably too much to handle.
I’d been devastated to find out that my own uncle, Niko, had been a mass murderer—even if he’d been more than a little nuts and explained away his experiments as in the interests of science.
I moved toward Logan, even though I suspected he wouldn’t welcome comfort.
“We don’t know anything for certain,” I said. “These people could be from an entirely different agency, or just a bunch of whackjobs. Your friend could be a mole, or even have defected from Omega. Or you might have seen his doppelgänger. And this,” I waved my hand to indicate the destruction around us, “could all just be a setup. Someone trying to make Omega look bad.”
Logan smiled thinly. “Bit of a reach, don’t you think?
I shook my head. “Not really. The point is, we don’t know anything for certain.”
Logan grunted, then reached for the rifle that lay beside the dead agent. He unclipped the magazine and glared at the ammo. Rows of bullets, half glass casing filled with neon blue liquid, half silver base.
“That’s a double whammy right there.”
I nodded. Silver for Fae, whatever the liquid was for the rest of the paranormals. I cleared my throat. “Well, I’d guess whatever the poison is, that it’s meant for the younger crowd.”
“Why is that?” Nerina frowned.
I tapped my chest. “Because I’m feeling better already. The poison is powerful yes, and it could probably bring down a kid instantly, but against me, it’s only temporary. So maybe whatever this ammo is, it isn’t aimed at adults, or perhaps it isn’t designed to attack walkers.”
Logan nodded. “Good point.”
“Yeah, that just makes things all the more complicated. And all this was a waste of time.”
“Not entirely,” said Nerina, her lips twisting in a smirk.
“You got something?” I asked.
“Not yet,” she said, “but I will soon.” She pointed at the body of the male agent, and took the few steps toward him.
I looked around. “Let’s get both of them under cover. The street looks clear now, but with all the noise we’ve made I don’t think we have much time left before both agencies send in reinforcements. Maybe we should just leave them and go.”
“We should go,” Logan said. “But these two could give us valuable information. We’ll have to take the chance.” Logan glanced at the body. “Grab his legs, Kai.”
I did as requested and we took the body back inside the ruined pool room, placed it on the floor then headed back out again.
I followed closely, helped him bring the redhead inside as well.
When we set the dead girl down Nerina was already kneeling beside the young man.
Logan grunted. “I’ll be outside. Someone needs to keep watch.” Then he was gone.
Did that mean he didn’t like watching DeathTalkers at work? Who would, considering what they did? But I stayed, to keep Nerina company and to hear what the two had to say.
Nerina settled onto her knees and laid her hands on the male agent’s chest. I was surprised at how young he looked. Not much older than the guy who’d run away.
The worry we now had was that the two surviving members of this team would bring backup, and that they knew who we were.
The redhead had mentioned the Hunter. Had they been aware that I was coming? Or was I just that famous?
Chapter 28
I CONCENTRATED AS NERINA LEANED forward and opened her mouth. A stream of gray smoke poured out. The cloud rose and swirled before turning and diving into the mouth of the dead man.
She bent closer so that her lips hovered over the agent’s mouth and drew the gray smoke back into her lungs. As weird as it looked, it made a kind of sense.
Then she sat back, her face was serene and expressionless, and when she opened her mouth again it was the dead man who spoke.
“Where am I?” he asked.
Neither man’s body nor Nerina moved, so and I was forced to answer. “You’re on your way to the Graylands.”
As the words left my mouth, I realized how harsh that may sound especially to someone so recently dead.
“Oh,” he said.
My words hadn’t frightened him. “You’re not going to panic?”
“Why should I?” he said. “I knew this was likely to happen.”
Resignation, not fear. “You expected to die?”
“Not expected. More like I knew it was a hazard of the job.”
“And what job are we talking, exactly?” I asked.
“I work for Division Seven.”
“What is Division Seven? Government?”
“Yeah. Off the books.”
I’d bet it was. “What does Division Seven have to do with Omega?”
There was a pause. “What’s Omega?”
Okay.
“What’s your name?”
“Daniel Chou.” He didn’t say more so I left it at that.
“Who was the fourth agent? Not the young one who ran, the older man.”
“Oh,” Daniel said. “That’s Blake. He’s on loan from another agency. Inter-divisional cooperation or something like that.” His voice faltered, becoming hollow as if echoing through a long dark tunnel.
“Blake?”
Daniel nodded. “Agent Blake. He’s an odd one but he keeps to himself.” He fell silent for a moment. “He ran?”
“Yes, he did.”
“So much for interdivisional cooperation.” Daniel sighed and even the sigh seemed to be getting fainter.
I had to hurry. “So what does this off-the-books division of yours do, exactly.”
“We eliminate paranormals.”
What could I say in response to that? It was very much cut-and-tried. “On whose orders?”
“That’s need to know.”
“Well, I need to know, and you’re dead so nobody will care that you told.”
He shook his head. “I’d tell you if I could. But our section leader just passed on the orders. Orders come from above. We followed them. We didn’t need to know who gave them.”
I didn’t understand this attitude. If I was ever told that I didn’t need to know where an order came from I’d make finding out my first priority. “And those guns?”
“Don’t start me on those things,” he said. “I hate them. Way worse than using normal bullets for humans.” He paused. Seemed to struggle to speak. When he began again his voice had grown fa
inter. “Like using hand grenades to kill a herd of deer. Cruel and unnecessary.”
This interrogation wasn’t going to last much longer. “So what exactly were you doing here? We thought you were Omega agents.”
“We were supposed to watch the site. Eliminate any intruders. Eliminate any paranormals.”
He seemed to accept the existence of paranormals easily for a human. But there wasn’t any time to get into why. He was probably trained well.
“Who killed the Sentinel watch?”
“Blake.”
“Why?”
Daniel shrugged. “Don’t know. We asked but . . .”
“Need to know?”
“You got it.” Then he paused, his voice tinny now, fading. “Sorry I couldn’t be much help.”
“Sorry we shot you,” I said, feeling a little stupid even as I said it.
“We did our jobs. Mission complete.”
“You mean ‘mission successful’?”
“Mission complete,” he repeated, his resignation clear even as his voice faded to nothing.
Nerina shuddered, lifted her head, and opened her mouth. The smoky gray tendrils wafted from her lips, rising, roiling in the air until they gathered together as if compelled by some invisible force, and swooped to the boy’s mouth.
The smoke plunged between his lips and disappeared, leaving Nerina shuddering. She bent over, sucking in great gulps of air.
“You good?” I asked, a little worried.
She nodded. “I’m fine. He seemed . . . okay with his death.”
“Too okay if you ask me.”
“Yes. I agree.”
Footsteps crunched outside on the concrete floor of the hallway and Logan came in.
“Anything?” he asked, even as he scanned the room and the hole in the external wall for potential threats.
“Not much.” I said softly. “Agent Daniel Chou, Division Seven. Off-the-books government agency. He was a drone who did what he was told, never asked questions, never knew where his orders came from. But he’d never heard of Omega, and your friend was on inter-departmental loan and his name is Blake.”
“Blake, my ass,” muttered Logan through gritted teeth.
Nerina cleared her throat. “We should speak to the second agent before her time passes.”