Fallen Five

by Erica Spindler

  “You said ‘until tonight.’ What changed?”

  “She came as Uncle Beau, then transformed into Hank. And back. She admitted it all, totally revealed herself.”

  “But you weren’t supposed to live to tell the tale.”

  “I wouldn’t have, if not for you.” She cleared her throat, hating the tremor. The show of weakness. “That place she took me, I never want to feel that way again.”

  Zach reached across the table and laced his fingers with hers. “What did she do to you? How, Mick?” He searched her gaze. “You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met.”

  She forced a weak smile. “I guess I’ve blown my skull crusher image.”

  He didn’t return the smile. “That’s not the kind of strength I mean.”

  “She knew all my secrets. My darkest fears and deepest wounds, and she used them against me. It was psychological warfare, and it was . . . brutal.”

  Micki looked down at their joined hands. “I was defenseless. It was like she stripped me of everything good and strong.” She lifted her gaze to his. “Everything worth living for was gone.”

  He reached his other hand across the table. She grasped it.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have stood up for you. I should have gone in there and made them understand the kind of cop you are.”

  “You have nothing to apologize for, Zach.”

  “Don’t I?”

  She winced at the bitterness in his tone. “No, you don’t. I saw that video. What were you supposed to think? I looked completely deranged.”

  “Nichols came to my house yesterday morning, early. He told me about King registering a complaint against you. She provided video, he wanted me to look at it.” He paused. “I was worried about you. I told him so.”

  She pushed back from the table, stood and crossed to the sink. “You said I was acting erratically and was” —she made quote marks with her free hand— “ ‘emotionally fragile.’ After seeing the video, I deserved that.”

  “I didn’t say that, Mick. I told him I was worried about you, that’s it. He promised me nothing was going to happen fast and that I would be formally interviewed by someone from the Public Integrity Division. He told me to take my time coming in, wrap my head around it. Next thing I know, I get to the Eighth and learn from Susan that it’s all going down.”

  “Wait, PID didn’t question you?” He shook his head, and she laughed—a short, humorless bark. “PID always consults the partner first.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Susan told me you were in early, then left again. That wasn’t Major Nichols who came to see you. It was the chameleon.”

  “And then, knowing I was ‘wrapping my head around’ the situation, the chameleon visits Nichols at the Eighth, posing as me. I confirm to Nichols you’re losing it, which furthers her agenda.”

  “To alienate me from everyone and everything I care about. Brilliant,” she muttered. “She out-played me at every move.”

  “More than you even know.”

  Micki drew her eyebrows together, not liking the sound of that. “What do you mean?”

  “You might need some ice cream to help this go down easy.”

  “Fuck that. What did she do?”

  “You tried to seduce me.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You came to my apartment for, well . . . you came for sex, Mick.”

  She made a choked sound and he went on, “You were pretty insistent. In fact, you wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Use your imagination.”

  Her face went hot. “You should have known that wasn’t me.”

  “I don’t know how. Looked like you, sounded like you.” He paused a moment for effect. “Kissed like you.”

  He was the picture of boyish innocence. She wanted to smack him. “You sick bastard! You’re enjoying this.”

  “Not as much as I enjoyed that.”

  “It wasn’t me,” she said. “So whatever happened—”

  “Nothing happened. I turned you down.”

  “You turned me down?” Her voice hit a squeaky note.

  He turned serious. “I turned you down because it wasn’t you.”

  “But you said—”

  He laced his fingers with hers. “Looked like you, sounded like you . . . and so on, but wasn’t you. I knew that and wasn’t about to take advantage of whatever breakdown you were having. Even when you threatened it was ‘now or never.’”

  She swallowed hard, imagining saying that to him, but wishing she couldn’t.

  “When you confronted me after being suspended, it was an extension of that bizarre scene the night before.”

  It explained a lot. Natalie King had a lot to answer for.

  “I do want you, Mick. I haven’t made a secret out of it. But not like that.”

  Desire for him curled inside her, a hot, fierce flame. She extricated her hand from his. “We’re partners. We can’t do this.”

  “That’s the Mick I know and care about.” He sat back in his chair. “Now it’s my turn. Did you hear about Major Nichols?”

  Chapter Forty-four

  4:00 A.M.

  “Wake up, babe. It’s time.”

  Angel opened her eyes. They filled with Seth, kneeling beside her bed, the chill of the outdoors clinging to him, the tender smile that always made her heart skip a beat curving his beautiful, chiseled mouth. Was he real? she wondered. Or part of her dream?

  “Babe, we’ve got to go.”

  She searched his dark gaze. “Is it really you?”

  His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Who else?”

  Angel reached up and stroked his cheek. “I was dreaming of you.”

  He bent and kissed her. “What were you dreaming?”

  She trailed her index finger over his mouth. “I don’t remember. Maybe this? There’s nothing in my head anymore. Only you.”

  “I like that.” He kissed her again. “It’s time.”

  “To go?”

  “Yes, everything’s ready.”

  Fear made it hard to breathe. Going with him meant leaving everyone behind, venturing from the known to the unknown. Unknown, except for Seth.

  She knew him. He was enough.

  Angel nodded and climbed out of bed. She quickly dressed in jeans and a sweater, fitted on her hiking boots, then laced them up and looked over her shoulder at Seth. He was turned toward the window. The glow of the streetlight illuminated his face, highlighting some features, leaving others in shadow.

  Part of the dream she’d awakened from filled her head. Two Seths. One dark. And one light. Both with a hand out, reaching for her.

  That’s what he was. Part light, part dark. Just like her. Both with the ability to access the powerful force of either.

  Angel brought a hand to her belly. Their baby would be the same. Which put them both in serious danger.

  Seth glanced her way, and for a split second his eyes seemed to glow. In the next instant, the effect was gone.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She blinked. “Nothing. What do I need to bring?”

  “Only the essentials. We’ll have access to everything there.”

  Her hands trembled as she filled her backpack, reviewing each item. A couple changes of clothes. Toothbrush and toothpaste, a comb and brush, a few other toiletries. Her athletic shoes. Her art sack, supplies already tucked inside.

  A house. With no windows and no doors.

  From her dream. She had to get it down on paper. Before she lost it.

  “We need to go, babe.”

  “There’s something I have to do.”

  “There’s no time. Sweetheart, if it gets light, we’ll lose our opportunity to escape.”

  She nodded and turned quickly back to her closet to grab her jacket off the hook. He took her backpack, and she slung the strap of her supply satchel across her body. “Wait, how did you get in here?”

  “The help
of a friend. He has a way with alarm systems and locks.”

  “A friend? Who?”

  “His name’s Bran. He’s one of us.”

  “Are you sure you can trust him?”

  “Sweetheart?” He frowned. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m just scared.”

  “I’ve got you.” He laid a hand over her belly. “I’ve got us.”

  She stilled, waiting for their baby to react, the way it had the last time he’d touched her this way.

  But nothing happened.

  Seth slid the window up, made a motion to his friend, then dropped her backpack over the side. He turned and reached out his hand. She took it.

  Two. One light. One dark.

  She glanced down at the waiting friend. He looked up and smiled. Brown hair and brown eyes, handsome in a nondescript way.

  Something uncomfortable skittered over her.

  “No,” she said and shook her head. “Something’s wrong.”

  Seth took her other hand. He squeezed them both tightly. “It’s me. Seth. I love you. We’re going to be together. You, me, and our baby. But if we’re going to have that, we have to go. Now.”

  She wanted that more than anything. She wanted to say yes. To acquiesce. To trust.

  Bran wasn’t who he claimed to be.

  She opened her mouth to warn Seth, but the words froze on her lips and a shudder emerged instead.

  “Don’t be afraid,” Seth whispered. “I’ve got you.”

  But she was afraid. And cold, so very cold. The sensation curled around and up her arms, like the roots of a tree, digging in, taking hold.

  Her heart slowed; her breath became shallow. The cold sucked both the strength and urgency out of her. She couldn’t move her limbs, couldn’t speak, let alone scream.

  Her legs gave. Seth caught her, scooped her up, maneuvered her out the window and into a stranger’s arms. Her vision dimmed.

  The last thing she saw was Seth’s satisfied smile.

  Chapter Forty-five

  6:54 A.M.

  A soft snore awakened Zach. He cracked open his eyes, realizing he’d fallen asleep on Mick’s couch. They both had—he in a sprawled sitting position, propped awkwardly by the sofa’s cushions and throw pillows.

  He lowered his gaze. Mick lay on her side, legs bent and head resting in his lap; she still slept soundly. He shifted, careful not to awaken her while trying to roll the kink out of his neck.

  She looked so relaxed. The tension around her mouth was gone. The tiny frown that often creased the space between her eyebrows, also gone.

  He lightly touched the spot with his finger, then drew his hand back when she moaned. She’d been through a lot the last couple of days; a little more sleep would be good for her.

  The image of her from the night before, gun turned on herself, filled his head, and he shuddered. The way she’d looked at him—like she had nothing to live for and nowhere else to turn—would haunt him forever.

  What would he have done if he’d lost her?

  But he hadn’t. He’d mustered a power he hadn’t even known he possessed, from somewhere deep inside himself. Could he access it again? At will?

  He fought the questions—the feelings the questions conjured—back. He couldn’t go there, not now. They had a problem to solve.

  A big one.

  He and Mick had talked for a long time before falling asleep. He’d told her about Major Nichols falling from his office window, and how Sue had confessed to him that the fall had not been an accident. He’d shared how eerily similar his account of Mercedes’ suicide was to Sue’s description of the major’s fall. Then he’d described going back to the Eighth and picking up the energy of not only the amber-eyed woman, but another entity, as well. He’d told her about the feather he’d noticed on Nichols’ window ledge, reminding her of the one she’d picked up on Thomas King’s balcony.

  They’d brainstormed their options. Eli and Professor Truebell were MIA. Parker was neither taking calls nor returning them. Which, Zach supposed, made him MIA as well.

  That left Arianna. She was the closest thing to a Full Light they had. Zach hoped to God she’d have some insight into chameleons and how to beat them.

  One thing seemed certain. They had to work together.

  He looked down at Mick. She was awake and looking up at him.

  He smiled. “Good morning.”

  “Hey.” The two creases formed between her eyebrows. “How long was I asleep?”

  “Not quite sure, because I only woke up a couple minutes ago.” He reached for his cell phone; checked the time. “It’s almost seven.”

  “In the morning?”

  He smiled again. “Yeah, in the morning.”

  She sat up, stretched, then looked toward her front door. They’d patched it the night before, using a piece of plywood they found in her garage.

  She looked back at him. “I was hoping it was only a nightmare.”

  “It happened, Mick. And it was way too real.”

  She was quiet a moment, then nodded. “How about I make us some coffee?”

  “Or we can pick some up on the way?”

  “Or both.”

  He followed her to her feet and stretched, feeling the effects of sleeping in that cramped position—and of kicking in two doors in less than twenty-four hours.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  “Let me just say, you make kicking in doors look way easier than it is.”

  She laughed, then grew serious once more. “You’re still convinced we should bring Arianna on board?”

  “I don’t think we have another choice.”

  “We could wait. For Eli and Professor Truebell to return. Or Parker, SOB that he is, to call us back.”

  “What if they don’t?” She looked devastated at the thought. Mick, the cynic who always acknowledged the worst-case scenario. “We have to consider the possibility, Mick. Eli and Truebell may not return and Parker may never call back.”

  Mick didn’t argue. He saw by her determined expression that she knew he was right.

  “Okay,” she said, sounding resigned. “Let’s get this freak show on the road.”

  ***********

  Thirty minutes later, they arrived at Arianna’s, coffee caddy and breakfast sandwiches in tow. Zach had called from the car; she was waiting for them.

  Micki entered first; Arianna stopped him with a hand to his arm. “You’re sure about this?” she asked quietly.

  Zach knew what she meant—could they trust Mick? Ironic—the two most important women in his life didn’t trust each other.

  He nodded, and she motioned them into the living room.

  “Your coffee,” Micki said, handing one to Arianna. “The sandwiches are all the same. Help yourself.”

  Arianna took the coffee, collected a sandwich, and took a seat. “Thanks.”

  Micki collected her own beverage and looked around. “Where’s Angel?”

  “Still sleeping. I thought it would be better if I let her rest.”

  “She’s an adult,” Micki said. “Maybe she should decide what’s best for her.”

  Arianna stiffened. “Considering the circumstances—”

  “You’re not her mother.”

  “I know what she needs—I’ve been through this. You haven’t.”

  Zach stepped in. “C’mon, you two, stop it. We’re not the enemy.” He moved his gaze between them, then settled it on his mother. “Mick told me Angel’s pregnant.”

  Arianna turned to Micki, expression accusing. “I thought we agreed we weren’t going to share that information with anyone?”

  “I didn’t agree to anything. And Zach’s not ‘anyone,’ he’s my partner and we don’t keep secrets from each other.”

  Zach unwrapped his sandwich. “We’ve got bigger things to talk about right now. And not a lot of time to do it.”

  Arianna shook her head. “That’s where you’re wrong. The baby Angel’s carrying could be The Chosen One. If the Dark Leader o
r one of his lieutenants learns of this child’s existence, they’ll stop at nothing to get their hands on it.” She looked pointedly at Micki. “Secrecy is our first line of defense.”

  Micki set aside her coffee and stood. “We can’t protect what we don’t know about. What’s so hard to understand about that?”

  Zach stepped between them again. “First things first. We have an enemy attacking us now, Arianna. And I appreciate your concern for Angel and her baby, and I promise you I’ll do everything in my power to protect them, but we can only put out one fire at a time. And this one’s a doozie.”

  “Fair enough,” Arianna said, and returned to her seat.

  Micki took over. “Are you familiar with a dark force called a chameleon?”

  Arianna looked at her. “I’ve heard stories about them, but haven’t crossed paths with one.”

  “Well, you have now,” Micki said. “What can you tell us about them?”

  Arianna paused a moment before answering. When she did, her tone was cautious. “A little. They rank on the High Council’s most wanted list, and carry bounties on their heads, some higher than others. But they’re hard to capture because of their ability to change forms.”

  “Wait.” Micki narrowed her eyes. “Why are they wanted by the High Council?”

  “Because they’re Lightkeepers. Perverted versions of ones, anyway.”

  “Hold on,” Micki said. “Back way, way up. Chameleons aren’t Dark Bearers?”

  “No.” Arianna shifted in her chair. “They’ve bowed to evil, but haven’t made the final transformation to become a Dark Bearer. They choose not to.”

  Zach recalled his and Mick’s first case together, how their race to save two abducted coeds had led to a Lightkeeper in the horrific throes of that final transformation. He looked at Mick; by her expression he saw she was remembering, too. It wasn’t something that could be easily forgotten.

  “They can make that choice? To not give up the last of their light?” Zach dragged a hand through his hair. “And the Dark One is okay with that?”

  Arianna shrugged. “Why wouldn’t he be? Chameleons live to create heartbreak and chaos. He doesn’t have to force them to do his will. They’re already doing it.”

  Micki spoke up. “When she was impersonating Eli, she told me that chameleons claimed allegiance to no one but themselves. That they do whatever makes them happy. What else can you tell us about them?”