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Bone Driven

Page 8

by Hailey Edwards


  “An explanation for what?” Wu’s curiosity burned. “What is it you think he owes you?”

  “Ask him.”

  Fifteen years’ worth of phone calls, and all I had was a name. Ezra. Maybe I ought to come clean to my coterie. They were my best source of information, and their lives were directly tied to mine. They had no reason to lie to me. Not about something that affected my health and wellbeing, my ability to fight.

  Except… What if they did know about my condition? We were still feeling each other out at this stage. They might be withholding critical information that could be wielded against me in the event I turned on them, and I couldn’t blame them for wanting to protect themselves if that was the case.

  Miller had sold me on one point. Living with your inner demon’s potential for destruction was easier when someone else held your leash.

  As much as I wanted answers, I would content myself with discovering them on my own to protect the coterie and any secrets they carried. Ignorance was a flimsy protection, but it was all I could offer them. The potential for them to rally and take me down was a comfort. And, I had to admit, I was curious.

  Ezra wasn’t a member of my coterie. The math didn’t support him belonging to War either. Had she breached during those early years, bringing him with her, I had no doubt she would have killed me after discovering my defect. Yet he nursed me through those inexplicable pains rather than letting me suffer alone.

  Following that logic, my mystery caller must be enrolled in the NSB’s demon program. As close as Kapoor claimed they watched me, there was no way those calls had gone unnoticed all these years, meaning Ezra had to be a remnant from an earlier cadre or the descendant of one.

  That made him old, dare I say an antique, but if he was registered with the NSB, there must be a paper trail to follow once I got inside and gained access to their records.

  Well, what do you know? This put a new shine on the deal Kapoor made me.

  “Be careful tomorrow.” Wu yanked me from my thoughts. “Ubaste might be lower charun, but they’re still vicious.”

  Weren’t we all? “I didn’t know you cared.”

  “I want you in one piece when they turn you over,” he said, “otherwise you’re useless to me.”

  At least he was honest. “Thanks for the pep talk.”

  “Anytime.” I heard his grin. “Remember your phone next time.”

  “About that —”

  He hung up on me before I could read him the riot act.

  I really had to work on my people skills.

  I made it to the Trudeaus’ just after Uncle Harold had left for work, so Aunt Nancy was still up and about. Dad was on the couch dressed in fresh clothes and staring at the same spot on the wall. After a quick shower, I joined Aunt Nancy for cookies and milk in the kitchen then sat with Dad through a documentary on a pod of dolphins who had circled an endurance swimmer for over an hour to protect him from the jaws of an intrigued shark.

  “Time for bed.” I killed the TV and shuffled Dad into Uncle Harold’s recliner while I folded out the sleeper sofa. Tucking him in was the work of minutes, and I left him with a bottle of cold water on the coffee table and a goodnight kiss. “Love you, Daddy.”

  “Love you too,” he said, his stare drifting toward the ceiling. “Baby girl.”

  The darkened hall concealed me as I watched over him until sleep claimed him.

  We had long ago synchronized our off days so we could spend time together, which meant Uncle Harold, who shared his partner’s schedule, would be at the house with Dad all day tomorrow. That didn’t give me the morale boost I expected. More and more, I seemed to be dumping his care in the Trudeaus’ laps.

  I was his daughter. It was my duty to tend him, but I had so much else to do. The house had to get repaired before the elements got in and caused us even more expensive problems. Work was the biggest time-suck, but he would understand that. While I could turn in my notice and coast through my last two weeks using vacation days, freeing up plenty of time to play nurse, I couldn’t bring myself to bail on what little time Rixton and I had left together.

  Selfishness, thy name is Luce.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Thanks to the super gator, I had been forced to purchase a new laptop. As much as I missed the previous model, this one weighed half as much as its predecessor. With help from the nifty padded backpack I picked up while shopping, I now had a go bag prepped for coterie business.

  Dressed in jeans, a long-sleeve tee, and boots, with my hair twisted into a high bun, I was as ready to hunt demons as I was likely to get. With my pack slung across one shoulder, I hit the kitchen for breakfast and smashed into the first obstacle on my way out the door.

  Uncle Harold sat at the table with a steaming mug in front of him. The local paper was folded in quarters just how he liked it, but he wasn’t reading the sports column. No. He was staring at the lean man sitting across from him. Or, I imagine, that’s how it looked to Uncle Harold. Thom didn’t do chairs, and his butt wasn’t touching the seat of this one. Posed in a perpetual squat, I could hear his whipcord muscles screaming from here.

  What I didn’t hear – or see – was any sign of Cole. Considering the man was basically his own mountain range, he would have been difficult to miss occupying the cozy breakfast nook. I took his absence to mean he had palmed me off on Thom for the day. Given our last encounter, I told myself I was grateful I wouldn’t spend the next several hours cooped up in a car with him smelling me. But not even I believed me.

  “Morning, fellas.” I skipped the coffee and poured orange juice into a travel mug. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long, Thom.”

  “Only ten minutes.” Thom rose to his full height with a fluid grace I envied. “Not long at all.”

  Ten minutes? How were his thighs not quivering mounds of jelly? Would he even be able to walk out?

  “Thom?” Uncle Harold snapped his fingers like he’d just connected the dots rather than been lying in wait for an opening. “You’re with White Horse Security, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “I thought I recognized the logo on your shirt.” His good-natured chuckle was meant to convince Thom he was a harmless, old man. That his facilities had dulled with age when, in truth, his mind remained as diamond-sharp as ever. “You work for Cole Heaton, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  Casual as the day is long, Uncle Harold leaned forward. “What are Mr. Heaton’s intentions toward my niece? Let’s make that answer non-monosyllabic, eh?”

  “He requested her assistance on a case, and she agreed to consult.”

  “Will Cole be joining —?”

  “We should go,” I butted in. “We have a long drive ahead of us.”

  “All right.” Uncle Harold tapped his cheek. “Lay one on me, pumpkin, and then promise me you’ll be safe.”

  I palmed a few muffins leftover from breakfast yesterday then bussed his cheek. “I’ll be as safe as I can be. Promise.” I picked at the wrapper with my thumbnail. “Are you sure you don’t mind keeping an eye on Dad?”

  “I’m going to fire up the grill around lunch, and we’re going to watch the game.” He grinned. “I asked Eddie if he wanted a beer with his football or more milk for his cookies, and do you know what he told me?”

  My heart gave a hard thud as hope swirled through me. “What?”

  “I told him I’d give my left —” Dad cleared his throat. “I told him I’d kill for a longneck.”

  I whirled toward the archway leading into the living room and spotted Dad standing there wearing a smile stretched too thin to be genuine. He had changed his clothes from last night, and his hair had been combed. He was pale, and he shook from the effort of remaining upright, but his eyes —

  Thank God, they were clearing.

  “You look amazing.” I dropped everything onto the table and ran to him. Afraid a hug might topple him, I settled for kissing his freshly shaven cheek. “How do you feel?”

  “Fuzzy,
like someone stuffed my head full of cotton balls while I was asleep.” He wiggled a pinky in his ear like that might help relieve the pressure. “It’s like I’m waking up from a dream I can barely remember.” He beat his fist over his chest. “I told you if this ever came back, I’d kick its ass, and I did.”

  “Damn straight.” Uncle Harold slapped his palm on the table. “We never doubted you for a minute. Nancy wrote your name on the prayer cards at every service. The whole church was calling for your healing.”

  “Mr. Boudreau,” Thom said, “I’m glad to see you’re back on your feet.”

  “Thomas.” Dad shuffled forward with his hand extended. “Thank you, son.”

  A shiver of dread coasted down my spine as Thom cocked his head to one side. “What for?”

  “I don’t rightly know.” Dad chuckled, low and steady. “I saw you and had to get that off my chest.”

  Relief blasted through me in a quick burst that left me sagging. “I can stay if you’d like.”

  “You heard Harry.” Dad swayed on his feet, and Uncle Harold leapt up only to bump into Thom, who guided Dad down into his vacated chair. “We’ve got a game to watch and a grill to light.” He nodded a quick thanks to Thom. “You don’t have to fret over me. Harry won’t let me get into too much trouble.”

  “Okay.” I gathered my things to get them out of his way. “Are you sure? I can —”

  “You heard the man.” Uncle Harold pressed the muffins into my hand. “Go on.”

  Part of me felt certain if I just kept standing there, Dad would hold onto his lucidity and everything would be okay. But the other part knew that nothing I did would affect this outcome, and it was cruel to steal his thunder by hovering when he had made it to the table dressed, neat, and ready to eat on his own.

  “Have fun.” I backed out of the room, hating to take my eyes off the hopeful tableau before me. “Save me a cheesy brat.”

  “Luce.” Thom stepped in front of me and cut off my line of sight. “He won’t vanish if you take your eyes off him.”

  “Are you sure?” Physically, yes, he would still be there. Mentally… I hated bailing while he was coherent. “I don’t want him to slip away again.”

  Thom guided me out the door, and we didn’t speak again until we had fastened our seat belts.

  “I wish I could give you more assurances,” he said, “but I will not lie to you. I have never treated a human, but I did a thorough study of them to ensure the bodies we constructed for ourselves were sound. Based on what I learned, I had no reason to believe my saliva would cause an adverse reaction in your father. The dose I administered should have knocked him unconscious and softened his memory of events. Without conducting an examination, though, I can’t make you any promises other than he will recover. Eventually.”

  Rubbing my forehead, I massaged away the tension headache sparking between my eyes. I trusted Thom’s skills. I trusted his abilities. Hell, I trusted him. But Dad was… Dad. I wanted him back to one hundred percent, and I wanted him to stay that way. “How much will he remember?”

  “Not enough to endanger himself, if that’s what worries you.” Thom fidgeted in his seat, uncomfortable holding still even behind the wheel. “I expect, if he dwells on the event, he will recall his heart racing, his palms sweating. Thanks to what we have told him, he will frame those sensations as the warning signs of another stroke instead of his fight or flight reflexes kicking in.”

  “He’s a target because of who he is to me, and that’s not going to change.” I peeled the wrapper off one muffin and passed it to Thom. “Maybe we should have left his memories. Ignorance has its perks, I know that, but knowledge might keep him safer.”

  “There’s a real danger that a human of his age, in his health, would fracture if we allowed him to keep what he learned.” Thom nibbled the edge of the muffin like he had never had one and wasn’t sure what to make of the thing. “Your decision is the same one I would have made in your place.”

  “Thanks.” I picked at the blueberry crumble on top of my breakfast. “So, why am I really here?”

  Talk about ignorance. I had only seen three demon breeds in their natural state. I had no idea what was out there, what was possible, what we were up against. A crash course in demonology was exactly what I needed. The opportunity to observe one in the wild, when it wasn’t actively trying to murder me, would be educational, but Cole wouldn’t have invited me without a secondary purpose.

  He was like the onion Portia had used to explain the terrenes to me. Layers upon layers upon layers.

  “Santiago views the ubaste as a portent,” Thom admitted. “They’re a rare breed, and while they aren’t a threat to midlevel or high charun, they aren’t without their uses. Still, it’s unlikely an Otillian would welcome a nonlethal species into their coterie. Therefore, its sudden appearance is suspect.”

  “Could it have breached this world on its own?”

  “Given there have been two breaches by higher charun and their coteries in the last fifteen years, it’s possible.” He bit into the muffin, having decided it was worth the effort after all. “The odds of an ubaste deciding to do much of anything other than eat are slim, though. A more likely scenario is that War brought it through with her to unleash when it would benefit her most. She has made use of similar diversion tactics in the past.”

  “Why does Santiago believe otherwise?”

  “The demon is making no effort to conceal its kills, and it hasn’t increased its range. The pets have all been taken within the same zip code, the bodies left for anyone to find.”

  “That seems to support your theory,” I mused. “Not detract from it.”

  “The NSB kept a close eye on us. We weren’t unaware of Kapoor’s interest, but we had no inkling of the depth and breadth of the program the human government has initiated for charun. The first thing any midlevel or high charun does on a new world is learn the food chain so that they can integrate at its peak. The lower charun, in turn, do the same, so they know what to avoid.

  “An ubaste killing indiscriminately in a residential area makes no sense. They would never venture so close to humans, and they’re smart enough to discern the link between a human and its pet. They would grasp that the fastest way to haul down wrath upon its head would be to take what belongs to another. Basic predator/prey behavior.

  “For the ubaste to have survived any length of time in this world, say if it were a remnant of a previous coterie, it would have had to fly below the radar or the NSB would have picked it up and killed it. There would be no reasoning with it. It could be tamed, like any wild animal, but only to a certain point. Kapoor doesn’t strike me as the kind of man to waste manpower on such a venture.”

  “Its behavior indicates it’s new here and hasn’t figured out who the top predators are yet. The fact the NSB hasn’t captured it supports the idea it hasn’t been here long.” I lost my appetite and set my muffin on my knee. “That would mean Famine has breached.”

  “We’ll know more once we capture the creature. If it’s new, the smell of other worlds will be on its fur. And if Famine had her coterie carry it through, for whatever reason, it would bear traces of her as well.”

  “Are you familiar with her scent?”

  Thom shuttered his expression. “Yes.”

  That explained his assignment to this case. “The plan is we find where she emerged and… then what?”

  “We don’t know why or how you came back as you are,” he said slowly. “You are unique. The person you’ve become is… soft. War used your kindness to her advantage, and Famine would too if given enough time to acclimate.”

  “You’re talking about confronting Famine before she gets a chance to study War’s CliffsNotes.”

  “War will be searching for her too. She’ll want to claim the first ally since you defied her. There’s a chance, if Famine has breached, she’s already been compromised. She and War are close. Conquest has always preferred working alone, as has Death. But each new world b
rings with it a new set of rules. The first one to learn them wins.”

  “Maybe we’ll beat War to her.” I blew out a long breath. “We at least have to try, right?”

  “No, we don’t.” Thom flicked crumbs from his shirt. “We will, though. For you. Cole has ordered it so.”

  While I wanted to ask where and when and if he was meeting us, I had to accept that him volunteering Thom to pick me up sent a message that he needed space after what had happened.

  “How far to the lab?” The persistent itch between my shoulder blades wouldn’t stop until we’d unloaded our cargo. “The cooler is light enough I can handle the drop while you wait if you can get me clearance.”

  “You already have clearance to access and use any and all of White Horse’s resources.”

 

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