Locked in Silence: Grimm's Circle, Book 5

by Shiloh Walker

  He barely glanced at her, a smile on his face. “Hello, Dad.”

  A weird sound—a rushing, pulsating sound—filled the air.

  His heartbeat. The old man’s heart. He was afraid. Shifting around so she could see him and the demonic, she eased her bag down on one of the broken-down chairs.

  “Bobby. I didn’t know you were back in town.”

  Bobby smiled. “Yeah.”

  Then he glanced at Vanya. “Maybe you can leave now. Me and my old man have some catching up to do.”

  She braced herself and lowered her shields. It was a good thing she’d had some practice because, otherwise, there was no way she could have hidden her horror at the intense, soul-sucking hunger she felt from him. Hunger from him…and terror from the old man.

  Leave, Vanya. Leave while you can, the old man was thinking, even as he grieved for himself. His wife. Damn you, Bobby…what happened to you…

  The rush of his thoughts was too much, unclear and erratic, so hard for her to follow. But she knew what she needed to know without his thoughts. The old man was human.

  And the thing that had been his son? Wasn’t. She was facing a demon.

  Catching up…yeah. She could imagine the catching up they had to do.

  She had enough of a read on Bobby to know what he planned on doing. He was going to feast on the old man over there. Then on his wife. Then on everybody else in their family.

  Soul eater.

  That’s what this one was.

  What had Silence called them?

  Orin—

  With a smile, she said, “Sure. I just need to check a few things first—I’ve got a long walk ahead of me.” She pretended to root through the bag, palming the bladed staff Silence had ordered for her, using her body to hide it. As she straightened up, she pretended to sway, stagger.

  She stumbled against the counter and the older man rushed around to catch her. As he steadied her, she caught his arm and did something she hadn’t tried to do with anybody but Silence or her sister. Get the hell out of here. Now.

  His eyes widened.

  Out loud, she said plaintively, “I’m feeling a little dizzy. Can you get me a Coke or something?”

  Get out of here. He wants to hurt you and I think you know it. Now get out.

  His eyes slid past her to the man waiting just behind them.

  Then they widened and he tried to shove her out of the way.

  Vanya ducked just in time to avoid a blow that would have caved in the skull of a normal person. She shoved the old man backward and snarled at him. “Go!”

  The old man shook his head and swallowed. “You don’t know what you’re doing. He’s…he’s dangerous.”

  “I know.” She sighed and reached for her weapon. Turning, she faced the orin. Either the old man would run or he wouldn’t. She couldn’t do anything about him now.

  The orin was her main problem.

  He was eying her narrowly, an appraising look on his face. As she shrugged out of her denim jacket, a smile curled his lips. “You know, most of your kind wait until dark for this shit,” she said, scowling.

  “Well…what can I say? I was hungry.”

  She felt a strange press against her mind and smiled. “Sorry. You can’t touch me. I’m sort of off-limits.” She flicked her wrist and watched as the staff extended, blades emerging.

  “Hmmm. But I bet you’d be tasty. Why are you off-limits?”

  She twirled her staff and smiled at him—smiled, despite the fear quaking inside her. She didn’t think she was ready to go solo against a bruiser. This one wasn’t going to be distracted with a lure and false promise of sex, and there was something about the way he watched her that made her think he’d enjoy a fight.

  “Why don’t you figure it out?” she asked him, flashing him a cheeky smile.

  She felt that nudge against her mind again, and this time, she was aware of something else as well—heat flaring against her skin, right where the pendant she wore rested between her breasts.

  What did that mean? Silence had told her…Will.

  Will’s way of communicating with her, but what was he telling her?

  She was going to take a stab in the dark and hope it meant he knew she was in trouble. She focused her thoughts on Will—she knew he could pick up on them, she just hoped she was strong enough to make herself heard. I don’t know what you’re trying to tell me, angel-boy, but I’m in trouble.

  As she focused once more on the demon, she thought she heard a sigh, followed by a whisper of reply. I know.

  The demon was still staring at her. Legs spread, hands pressed together, like he was praying, the tips of his index fingers pressed against his lips. “There’s something curious about you,” he murmured. “I can’t quite figure it out…but I don’t think I want the old man anymore. You’ll be more fun.”

  Vanya smiled. “If only you knew.”

  She saw him tense, lunge—logically, she knew he was moving fast, should have been moving too fast.

  But after months of working with Silence, she was prepared and she swayed to the side, evading him with ease. As she did, she struck out with her weapon, feeling the blade cut through muscle and flesh like butter. Blood flowed and he snarled.

  “Oh, you’ll pay for that, bitch…”

  A prickle of unease rose along his spine as the tension from Will’s departure faded. He recognized it too well.

  Something new was moving through town—a new threat. He scowled, wishing he could ignore it. What he needed to be doing was figuring out what to do about Vanya—indeed, if he should do anything.

  Alone is better…

  And his heart raged at the idea.

  Go after her. That was what his heart demanded. Find her—duty will always be there, but will she?

  Will would take her away.

  If he hesitated too long, Will would take her from him, and somehow, Silence understood she would be lost to him if he didn’t take action now.

  Yet he felt trapped—once more, imprisoned. But it was silence that held him captive, and it wasn’t walls of stone, wasn’t chains or even paltry rope.

  It was fear.

  His own fear.

  So much time alone and he feared relinquishing that solitude.

  So you will give up this chance?

  He started to pace, shoving his hands through his hair, locking them behind his neck. Torn. Did he go after her? Did he let her go?

  Swearing, he spun around and gripped a bedpost, staring outside. But he didn’t see the vivid green of the trees, didn’t see that brilliant blue of the sky, the quaintly done buildings.

  He saw only her.

  Will knew Silence’s indecision—wished he could do something, say something. Impotence gnawed at him with greedy, small, sharp teeth. “Go,” he whispered. “Now.”

  Watching with his mind’s eye, he smiled as Silence slowly lifted his head, his eyes narrowed, shoulders set. It was the look of resolution on his friend’s face—

  Duty be damned, Silence said, the words soundless. But Will knew what he said. Closing his eyes, he nodded. “Go on, then,” he said softly.

  He was about to close the link that let him watch when he saw something catch the other Grimm’s attention.

  Narrowing his focus, he saw what Silence had seen.

  The television—

  “We interrupt this program to bring you this live update.”

  Silence stared at the TV, barely aware of the female anchor’s voice, barely aware of anything, save for the building in the background. He knew that building.

  It was the club from last night.

  “We have reports of gruesome murders that took place, right here in Ann Arbor. And even more upsetting—a hostage situation. The police who went in to investigate are being held captive—”

  Silence swore.

  And somewhere inside, he felt something break. His heart, he supposed.

  He might have been able to ignore the bothersome call of duty, but human live
s?

  No.

  The day he did that was the day he became a monster himself—he killed the monsters, he didn’t become one.

  Turning away from the television, he gathered his weapons, dressed.

  Something hot, wet rolled down his face and he absently brushed it away.

  In the end, he supposed, this was how it was meant to be.

  Perhaps this was God’s way of reminding him of that.

  Silence was better alone.

  “Damn it,” Will bellowed.

  Mandy flinched as the sound rang through the cabin.

  Okay, she’d seen the man upset before, but outright furious.

  Peering around the corner, she blinked at him. “Ahhh…are you okay?”

  He shot her a narrow look. “Apologies. Were you resting?”

  “No.” She made a face at him. “I’m tired of resting. And I don’t need to keep resting that much. I was actually reading, thank you. What’s up? What did I do now?”

  He frowned. “It wasn’t you.” Then he shook his head. “I must go.”

  Before she could say another word, he was gone, in that familiar flash of light.

  Silence weighed his options.

  He could risk being seen by going in now, saving the policemen inside the building, while forcing to Will deal with the fallout.

  Or he could take some time to plan, figure out a better way inside that wouldn’t involve him being seen, but it would probably mean some of the hostages would die.

  None of them were ideal.

  He was fifty yards away, watching from the relative anonymity of the crowd, a pair of black shades shielding his eyes as he studied the layout and ran through his decidedly short and limited list of options.

  Around him, the crowd was wary, giving him strange looks, and while they weren’t overly obvious with it, none of them wanted to stand too close to him. He was used to it. Mortals were never particularly comfortable around him. They hadn’t been comfortable around him even in life.

  He was acutely aware of the looks they gave him, acutely aware of the distance they worked to give him.

  When he felt a familiar ripple in the air, he frowned. Moments later, Will emerged from the crowd, coming to stand next to him. Silence might have been a little thrown off by his appearance, if he’d care enough.

  Will wasn’t in his trademark white—like Silence, he wore dark, utilitarian clothes, his silvery hair pulled back into a tight club and tucked under his shirt.

  “You don’t need to be here,” Will said shortly. “I’ll handle this.”

  Silence shook his head. He’d allowed this—he should have been more careful.

  “Don’t you have something else you’d rather be doing?”

  Silence sighed. Then he signed, automatically using the language they’d used before he learned ASL. Yes. But this is where I belong—I made mistakes here and I won’t let mortals suffer for them. And I suspect this is God’s way of telling me I shouldn’t be doing something else. After all, it was right when I was leaving to go after her…no coincidence, that.

  “Don’t be a fool.”

  That’s exactly why I’m here.

  Will swore. Then he shook his head. “Let’s get out of the crowd. I’ll get us inside and we’ll deal with this—maybe then you can think clearly again, and then you can go do what you need to be doing.”

  But as they made their way out of the crowd, an icy-cold sense of foreboding flooded Silence. He found himself thinking about Vanya. He wished he would have told her—even if it was only once—that she’d mattered to him. A lot. In ways no other ever had.

  In less than five minutes, Will had found a place remote and quiet, and Silence waited as he formed his doorway. Just before they would have passed through, he caught Will’s arm.

  If I fall—will you do me a favor?

  Will narrowed his eyes. “You’re not going to fall. And if you have words for your woman, you’ll give them to her yourself.”

  Silence shook his head. Something dark and cold looms before me.

  “Perhaps it’s the fate that awaits you if you push her away.”

  He stared at the other Grimm, waited.

  “Silence…” Then he sighed. “Yes. If that’s your wish. But if you fall, you know I can follow you, and I will. I’ll follow you and make your resting days a nightmare. You’ll have no peace—know that.”

  I’ve never known peace—why should I expect that to change?

  Then he signed a simple message, thankful, for once, that he didn’t need to rely on his voice. Because the knot in his throat wouldn’t have allowed him to speak anyway.

  Will nodded and then looked away. “But you’re not going to fall, damn it. It’s a nest of succubae. If we can’t handle that, there’s a problem.”

  She was bleeding, bruised and pretty sure that she’d broken something—or several somethings.

  The good news was that the demon in front of her was in the same shape.

  The bad news—and no, the injuries weren’t the bad news—he was getting pissed.

  The couch went airborne as he stalked her through the little house. Thankfully the hotel wasn’t connected to the office, currently located in said trashed house, but it wouldn’t be long before somebody heard them, she feared. Heard them. Reported them.

  It wouldn’t be the hotel owner and his wife, though.

  She’d just glimpsed them busting ass out of there, speeding off in a truck like the hounds of hell were after them.

  “You just lost your lunch,” she said, smiling at him despite the way it made her busted lip hurt.

  He snarled at her. “I’ll make do with you.”

  “Haven’t you figured it out?” She laughed at him. “You can’t. I’m useless to you, as far as food goes.”

  “Then I’ll just rip your guts out and fuck your corpse,” he said grimly. “You’ll be good for something.”

  She saw his muscles coiling and she braced herself, waited until he was sailing through the air before she shifted and brought her staff up. He still managed to twist away, right before he would have impaled himself on it too—damn it.

  He laughed at her as she stumbled away. “You’re good, you little bitch. But you’re not good enough.”

  She suspected he was right.

  Her hands were slipping on the weapon too, and this time, when he came for her, she didn’t move in time. He managed to wrench it away, hurling it across the room. The blow to her stomach that followed had her doubled over. The one to the back of her head sent her sprawling to the floor.

  He crouched over her and she cringed as he eyed the silver chain around her neck.

  “Well, well, well…I had a feeling,” he muttered. “But, baby, they should have trained you better. You’re not good enough to be out on your own yet.”

  “What makes you think she’s alone?”

  Chapter Nine

  They didn’t dare use the shadows yet.

  Not until they knew what the succubae were doing with the cops.

  Although guessing by the breathy moans and hoarse grunts, it wasn’t hard to figure out.

  Up ahead, something lay on the middle of the floor.

  Something slippery, wet…and broken. It had been a man, once, although it was hard to tell at first. Guilt tore at Silence and he closed his eyes. He should have taken more care last night.

  Will touched his shoulder. When he looked at him, Will signed slowly, You were worried for Vanya—your concerns were for her.

  Silence shook his head and didn’t answer. It was no excuse.

  He could have gotten her out of here and returned.

  His carelessness had led to this.

  As they drew closer to the sounds of sex, he drew his battle axe. I’ll deal with them if you’ll handle the mortals, get them someplace where they can be rescued with the smallest chance of exposing us.

  Will gave a short nod and signed, We need to distract them, draw them out. Any ideas?

  Silence smi
led grimly and lifted his axe. Slowly, methodically, he started to thump the flat of it against the wall.

  “Subtle,” Will muttered, shaking his head.

  As far as Silence was concerned, subtle could get fucked.

  She didn’t know that voice.

  Rolling her head to the side, she glimpsed a face—nope. Didn’t know the face either. But something about the man standing in the doorway made her breathe easier—or at least she would have, except for the agony of the broken ribs.

  They were healing, knitting together—she could even feel that, but damn, it still hurt—she hurt more now than she had when she’d taken a beating as a human.

  The demon turned and looked at the stranger.

  “Oh. It’s you. I thought I’d killed you.”

  The man gave him a boyish, charming smile. “Oh, I’m hard to kill…apparently even harder than you.”

  “Hmmm. What’s it going to be this time, Grimm?” The demon cast a glance down at her.

  Vanya shuddered, forced herself to her hands and knees. She didn’t like the speculation in that thing’s eyes. Not at all.

  He bent to grab her and she gathered her strength, forced herself to roll away. It wasn’t graceful and it wasn’t pretty, but it put a few feet between them. Spitting the blood in her mouth onto the floor, she sneered at him. “Find another bargaining tool,” she suggested.

  The other man laughed—man…Grimm?

  The pendant between her breasts heated.

  “Oh, you’re feisty. I like that,” he said.

  “How sweet of you.” She panted, pressed a hand to her side. “Do you know this asshole?”

  “Sadly, yeah. Been trailing after him for a few months. He’s slippery.” Then he smiled. “He’s not getting away this time.”

  The demon grinned. “Don’t so sure.”

  Then he blinked—looked stupidly down at his chest.

  He was staring at the same thing Vanya was staring at—the large, bleeding hole there.

  As he toppled to the ground, his face lifeless and slack, Vanya looked back at the Grimm and saw him tucking a gun into a holster that made her think of tumbleweeds, shootouts and saloons. “A gun? I can use a gun? That was too damn easy,” she muttered, fully aware of the borderline whine creeping into her voice.