The DarkWorld SkinWalker Series Box Set Vol II: The SkinWalker Series Books 4, 5 & 6: Blood Promise, Scorched Fury, & Fate's Edge (DarkWorld: SkinWalker)

by T. G. Ayer

  His eyes narrowed. “Which is?”

  “Get Jess to come too. She can hide and watch him, poke around in his head to see if he’s got any blank spaces.”

  Logan smiled. “I like the way you think,” he said with a yawn.

  “You’ll do nothing of the sort until you both have some rest.” Mom’s stern tone implied we had no choice and I was fine with that.

  I went to the front lounge and crashed on the sofa, barely listening as Mom sent Logan to the library.

  A few hours later, rested and fed, Logan was allowed to make his calls. Mom had been right though, tired could easily have translated into careless.

  Soon, Jess arrived and transported us to a spot at the edge of the forest, a few miles from Tukats on the side closer to the city.

  She didn’t seem to be in the mood to talk and disappeared into the bush muttering something about recon. Logan let her go without a question.

  I studied the trees and foliage, and the great old oak behind me. “Does it bother you that he agreed to meet you so easily?”

  “Yeah. Could easily turn into an ambush.”

  Good to know I wasn’t the only paranoid person there.

  “Tell me more about how you know him?” I asked softly.

  I expected him to evade and avoid so it was a complete surprise when he actually answered.

  “When Omega recruited me, I joined an agency-run school. It was normal learning peppered with a good deal of paranormal military training.” He took a deep breath and looked away. “Nevins was one of the older kids. A couple of years ahead of me.”

  “And a bully.”

  He flashed me a wry grin. “How did you know?”

  “I’ve met the guy.”

  Logan nodded. “He tried to hurt me once. Another kid saved Nevins in time.”

  “Saved him?”

  A muscle in Logan’s jaw tightened. Released. “Yeah. Mikael. He’s a weather mage. Storms and lightning and stuff. I’d grabbed hold of Nevins’ wrist before he punched my lights out. His performance saved Nevins from being burned alive.” Guilt flitted across his face.

  An image of a badly burned wrist shimmered in my mind. “Don’t you dare blame yourself. Blame the bully.”

  “And who’s to blame for making the bully?” he asked softly.

  “That’s not your problem.”

  He shook his head as if the movement would dismiss my comment. “I think I owe it to him to at least give him an out.”

  “It’s more than he deserves.”

  I sounded bitter, I knew it. I didn’t care. But I couldn’t change his mind and I wouldn’t presume to try. “I still think it’s too dangerous, but you have to do what you need.”

  I hesitated, caught between wanting to hug him and wanting to punch him. Physical confrontation I could handle, especially when it meant using my fists or my panther. But personal confrontation had never been my strong suit. I’d rather swim in bloody water with sharks.

  So I didn’t hug him and I didn’t punch him. Instead I climbed a tree and settled along a nice thick branch several feet above where Logan stood. It was sheltered and comfortable. It also gave me an unimpeded exit route if I needed to turn panther, jump down, and rip Nevins’s head off.

  It didn’t take long before there was rustling in the trees ahead. Bushes swayed as they were thrust aside and dirt and leaf litter whirled like small tornados. Nevins certainly wasn’t keeping his presence a secret.

  He finally strode into the clearing, shoulders stiff, spine erect, every inch a soldier. The look he gave Logan could have frozen a lava flow.

  “What do you want, Westin?” Nevins grunted the question, arms tense at his sides.

  “To talk,” Logan said.

  “Then talk,” Nevins said, and folded his arms across his chest. I figured it was a good sign considering he used those very hands to ice things to death.

  Logan did the same and I watched as Nevins nodded.

  Peace, for now.

  “You’re being used.” Logan launched into the conversation.

  Talk about being subtle.

  “What the hell do you mean?” asked Nevins, scowling.

  “You’re being lied to and used and in the end, you’ll be killed by the very people you’re working with.”

  “You are insane.”

  “I’ve been getting a lot of that lately.” Logan laughed. Then his features smoothed and the look he gave Nevins was serious. “The man you’re working for— You’re just a pawn in his bigger plan.”

  Nevins took a step closer. “The man that I am working for would never do such a thing. I trust him. His intentions are pure.”

  His hands curled into fists, although his arms stayed folded. “His plan, as you call it, is to create a better world. He’s done research into paranormals—research that shows some of us are a danger to our world. Some of us need to be removed from the equation.”

  “So, based on the conclusions of one man’s supposed research you’ve become an active participant in genocide.”

  Nevins blinked. “Of course not. This isn’t genocide. Targets are specific. We test for certain markers. Only those who show signs of becoming a danger to society are eradicated.”

  Like cockroaches.

  Logan didn’t back down “You didn’t eradicate pests, Brett. You killed people.”

  “You don’t understand,” Nevins said “They were no longer people. It was in their DNA, right there for us to see that they would eventually be a danger.”

  He paused and met Logan’s eyes. “Don’t you see? They deserved to die.”

  Chapter 51

  AND WHO DID THOSE INVESTIGATIONS and the experimentation that confirmed these dangers existed?” Logan asked, his tone hard.

  Nevins hesitated. “I wasn’t told who did the research. I was just shown it.” For a moment he looked lost, as if he realized there were missing pieces in his reasoning.

  Then his features tightened. “I know what you’re doing, Westin. Still the same little upstart, wanting to push his way into things he doesn’t understand.”

  His dislike for Logan was palpable, and I let my panther surface slowly, fingers forming paw and claw, mouth filling with sharp, deadly teeth.

  Logan shook his head. “I don’t want in, Brett. I want to help you out. If what I’ve seen so far is true, then you’re in danger from the very people you trust.”

  “No.” Nevins jerked his head back as though a poisonous insect had buzzed in his face. “That’s a lie. You’re envious. You weren’t chosen. You, with your power and your security clearance. You with your so-called friends in high places.”

  He sneered the last two words and his expression spoke volumes. “You weren’t the one they wanted in the end, were you? It was me.”

  And on the last word he unfolded his arms and whipped them behind his body. Even as he swung them around to aim the pistol at Logan, I was flying through the air.

  I slammed into his chest, ignoring the ear-splitting shot past my ear, the fabric of clothes ripping under my claws, the scent of blood and skin as I peeled it from his body.

  Then he hit the ground with me on top of him.

  I tilted my head and growled, my roar reverberating through the trees. My canines were a mere inch from his throat when Logan yelled, “Kai, don’t.”

  Even though Logan begged me to stop, my panther roared for the kill. She was so close, thrusting against me, her need for blood and death a living thing.

  I stared into Nevins’ terrified eyes and smelled a hint of urine. The big bully had been beaten by a bigger one. That ended it for me. I wasn’t a bully. I didn’t want to debase another person.

  And I stepped away, more because it sank in how badly he’d been manipulated. Total mind-fuck.

  As I pulled my panther back Nevins scrambled onto shaking legs.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” He glared at me. Then at Logan. “Keep your bitch away from me, Westin.”

  “She’s not my bitch.”
Logan smiled. “You’re hers.”

  I took a step closer, surprised that he didn’t run for his life. “What happened to the scar?” I asked studying his cheek. “I thought I left you with a pretty memento of our last meeting.”

  He shrugged, trying for nonchalant. The shiver in his knees, however, revealed his true state of mind. “Part of the post-mission restoration. Something to do with reconstruction of the wound that brings it back to its original state.” Then his mouth snapped shut as if he realized he was revealing far too much.

  Too late, Nevins.

  “Look, Nevins,” Logan said. “I’m trying to help you before it’s too late. Before you’re either too far gone, or too dead to get out of his clutches.”

  Nevins shook his head. “I don’t believe you. He’s not capable of what you’re implying. Any deaths were specific, and the massacres you’re talking about were just training exercises.”

  Training exercises?

  “Which ones were just training?”

  “The goblins, and the kids in Cicero.”

  So he did kill Mika. My gut twisted as I accepted that he was my mark now.

  Just one more question. “And the Masai tribe?” I asked softly.

  He shrugged. “I wasn’t part of that one.”

  “How did you know these were just training exercises?” Logan asked.

  Nevins rolled his eyes. “Because they were. He said they were.”

  “Then,” I said, “how do you explain all the people you killed and all the bodies left behind after you were done?”

  “Bodies?” He roared out a laugh. “There were no bodies afterward. The people were just projections made for us by the telepaths he hired. They created images for us to use as training.”

  It looked as though Logan was right after all. Nevins was as much a victim—in his own way—as the people he’d gunned down. The difficulty was how to make him see it.

  And then I asked, “Did you pick up your shells and bullets afterward?”

  Nevins hesitated. “Why would we do that?’

  “Because if you were shooting at projections the bullets wouldn’t hit anything. Ammo would be lying everywhere on the ground. Did you do a cleanup?”

  “I . . . yes . . . maybe.” He shook his head. “I don’t . . . recall. We must have. Or even if we didn’t, they would have called in a cleanup crew anyway. What difference does that make?”

  “It makes a huge difference if the projections were real people who actually died at your hands and who actually told us what happened afterward.”

  His face lost color. “DeathTalkers?”

  “Uh-huh.” I nodded.

  He shook his head like it hurt. “No. This makes absolutely no sense. He wouldn’t do something like this.”

  “Who is he?” Logan said softly.

  He snorted. “There’s no way I’d tell you that.”

  “Why not?” I asked stepping around him. “Is it because you can’t remember who he is?”

  “Of course I remem—” His expression was pained as he frowned at me. Then shocked as he concentrated, clearly trying to recall the name of the man who controlled him. “I . . . No. You’re just trying to manipulate me.”

  “Nope,” I told him. “You’ve already been manipulated. It would be evil of me to do such a thing now.”

  He made a strangled sound then turned and fled into the forest.

  I shifted to follow and catch him but Logan touched my arm.

  “Leave him. It’s sinking in.”

  The sounds of Nevins crashing and thrashing through the undergrowth, sending the wildlife squawking, echoed behind him.

  “Even if he doesn’t want to believe it, a part of him knows the truth.”

  Jess emerged from among the trees. “That depends if that part of him has been erased.”

  “So he has been erased?” I turned to her, sure now I’d been right all along.

  “That was a good move to try and get him to remember the mastermind’s name,” said Logan.

  “It made sense that he would have been tinkered with,” I said. “What paranormal would agree to kill his own kind when the method used would make him vulnerable too?” I looked at Jess. “Did you find anything in his mind that would lead us to the main guy. Is it—?”

  I stopped myself just before I spilled out the name but Logan was on his phone and talking quietly. I let out a breath.

  “I am afraid the erasure of his memories was very thorough. And permanent.” Jess’s voice held a dull note of hopelessness. As if she felt that finding something solid to connect Storm to the killings was impossible.

  I knew how she felt.

  “I have to go now,” she said. “I must make my report.”

  “Omega?” I asked, giving Logan a glance. Done with his call he was heading back to us.

  “The Immortal High Council,” she whispered in my head.

  Startled I glanced up at her, but she was looking at Logan. “Let me take you two back to the city,” she told him. “I have some errands to run.”

  I grinned. “We appreciate the ride.”

  “I do believe Logan appreciates it more. You could just run home. He has only human strength.”

  This time I had to laugh. I’d never heard Jess utter such a smartass remark. It was quite refreshing.

  Logan met her smile with a broad one of his own.

  “Where to?” she asked.

  “O’Hagan’s please,” we said in unison. I was eager for food, less eager to face the shambles that was our apartment.

  Jess dropped us off in the shadows of an alley around the corner from the pub, and we scanned the sidewalk before exiting the darkness and hurrying toward the sound of relaxation.

  I made another round of calls and texts to Anjelo and came up empty. Despite the heavy weight in the pit of my stomach, I dug into my meal with gusto.

  After a satisfying double cheeseburger for me, and a steak for Logan, we sat back replete but exhausted.

  I yawned. “I feel like I’ve been going for days.”

  “You have,” he said dryly.

  “Not as if I’ve had a chance to nap, you know.”

  He sighed. “I know all too well.” He wiped his mouth with his napkin and tossed it onto the plate. “I hope tonight I can get some sleep.”

  “They’re getting stronger?” I asked, stirring my milkshake with my straw.

  He nodded and gave a tired sigh. “The littlest things set me off. Like the thought or the taste of chocolate cake, or ice-cream, or a strawberry milkshake.”

  He looked down into the glass in his hand. It was an apple cider. He told me he’d gone for the cider because it wasn’t strong enough to knock him out. The last thing he wanted was to pass out before he got home.

  “I can see a figure in the dreams now.” Logan was still staring into his glass. “It’s not just a feeling anymore. There is someone there that I can’t remember quite so clearly.”

  I didn’t respond, what with Jess’s words ringing in my ears.

  “What Darcy said made me think about these dreams and memories.” He tilted the glass, let the cider edge up to the rim. “This girl is just a ghostly shape, I have no idea who she is, but somehow I know she’s real.”

  “Do you think you should see someone?”

  “See someone?”

  “Don’t be obtuse. Speak to someone about it. A therapist or even a telepath. Someone who can look under the hood and see if anything is missing in there.” I gave him a teasing smile.

  “Not about to take such a chance.”

  “Why not?” I asked. “Maybe speak to Darcy about your missing memories. Some of the stuff she said had to make you wonder if she could help you.”

  Logan studied my face for a long moment. Then he sat back. “As soon as this craziness dies down, I’ll think about it.” He smiled and leaned toward me. “I promise.”

  That was all I could ask for.

  Chapter 52

  WE’D BARELY GOTTEN BACK TO the apartmen
t when Logan’s cell phone began to ring. When he recognized his caller, his expression turned from resignation to suspicion.

  “Westin.” His tone was hard but not unpleasant. “Is that right? Yes. Where? I’ll meet you there in half an hour.”

  He cut the call and met my eyes.

  “And why,” I asked, “do I get the feeling that this isn’t good?”

  “Nevins wants to meet us. Someone blew up his house.”

  “Oh.” I blinked. “Is he considering his options?”

  Logan nodded. “Seems so. After what we told him, then finding his place blown to bits, I figure he’s thinking someone wants him dead.”

  “With good reason.” I folded my arms.

  Logan laughed softly. “He sounded frantic. And shocked.”

  I wasn’t surprised. “Why does he want to meet?”

  “He says he knows the location of a meeting with his boss.” Logan paused. “He did sound odd though.”

  “Maybe he’s not himself. It’s not every day you get your personal beliefs and your personal possessions destroyed within a couple of hours.”

  “I guess not.”

  “Maybe it’s a trap?”

  “Likely.”

  I rubbed my palms together. “Great. When do we leave?”

  Chapter 53

  JESS TRANSPORTED US TO THE location; a narrow sandy canyon where the sides of the mountains rose so high above us that we had to crane our necks to glimpse the peaks. From the red rocks around us I guess we were somewhere in Nevada.

  It was cooler down there, away from the sun, and I shivered. But it wasn’t the temperature that gave me the goosebumps.

  Gigantic rocks lay strewn across the red sand of the ravine. Great hiding places. Perfect for an ambush.

  I slipped my fingers into my pocket for Nerina’s key and sent her an urgent call. I’d promised she’d be part of the effort to apprehend Mika’s killer, and I was a woman of my word.

  As I studied my surroundings she responded, sounding worried. I kept it brief, and within seconds Nerina solidified next to me.

  Paranormal instant messaging rocks.

  Logan stood beside us, the four of us back to back, watching and waiting.