Chapter 18
“Are you two ready?” John called from where he waited near the front door of the condo.
Caleb’s voice echoed down from the upper floor. “Christ, Starkweather, keep your pants on! These boots have a lot of buckles, you know.”
“I know, but after sitting on my ass for months, I’m ready to get back on the street.”
“And we will, just have some patience. I swear, between you and Gray, I’m surprised you haven’t dragged me outside naked.”
John grinned, both at the image and because Gray must be even more antsy than he was. They’d spent most of the months since the night at Fort Sumter under house arrest, with a few trips to HQ and one to DC to liven things up. No hunting NHEs, although given how juiced up Gray had gotten at the fort, the lack of energy hadn’t affected him as much as the boredom.
The battle at the fort didn’t go unnoticed. As soon as the winds died away, news helicopters filled the air. Kaniyar had been waiting for them, immediately using the media to set the tone before the director could hush things up. She’d laid out everything that happened clearly and concisely, to any journalist or blogger who asked a question. The story spread to every corner of the internet before the sun even came up.
It didn’t earn her any friends on Capitol Hill, but with the spotlight of the world on them, even Congress had to play nice. They held a series of hearings, including the one John and Caleb attended. Gray even answered some questions directly, although privately John thought the drakul scared the shit out the senators. Certainly they’d just asked a few easy questions (Do you eat humans? No. What about possessed humans? Not if it is possible to save them.) before getting him the hell out of the room.
In the end, the old director resigned in disgrace. His political buddies kept any actual charges from being filed, and he quietly shuffled off to some backwater to wait until the furor died down. Kaniyar was now the new SPECTR Director. She currently busied herself culling the ranks, removing those who didn’t belong and promoting those who made the right choice when it counted.
Mostly, anyway. Tiffany had resigned, in return for being allowed to go home to what remained of her family. Her father still lived, but had spent weeks in the hospital, one arm bitten off by a wendigo during the assault. Some of her cousins had died on top of the battery during the mass sacrifice, but fortunately the two little girls were fine. Well, in intense therapy after everything they’d experienced and seen, but they’d be okay in the end.
Sean....technically he was on leave. John suspected Kaniyar didn’t quite know what to do with him. He’d betrayed everyone, but then come back in a pinch and fought hard to put things right. And Kaniyar wasn’t one to waste any resource she could put to use.
John hadn’t spoken with Sean since the night on Fort Sumter. Sean had been his friend for a long time, but John couldn’t forgive him for what he’d done. Maybe Kaniyar wasn’t the only one who had to figure things out when it came to Sean.
John was back on duty—finally—but without any of those promotions Kaniyar had been handing out. He’d acted outside of SPECTR authority, technically, and certain congressmen had wanted him removed from the agency altogether. Leaving him as a lowly field agent had been a compromise, and one he didn’t have a problem with. He’d never wanted anything else, after all.
Of course, he did have a few extra responsibilities. The low country office was taking a more active approach to stopping NHEs, thanks to its newest field agent.
Boots rang on the iron stairs, and Caleb appeared. He wore a brand new coat made on the design of the old one, since the battle at the fort destroyed the original. A pair of leather pants gave his legs extra protection, and with his tall black boots...damn.
“You look edible,” John said.
Caleb grinned and tossed his long hair back over his shoulders. “And you look like a government drone in that suit,” he said, and smacked John on the butt. “But that’s just even more incentive to get you naked once we get back.”
John pulled him close and kissed him soundly. “Uh huh. Keep it up, funny guy.”
“For you? Always.”
“I bet.” John pulled away and opened the door. “Come on. No fooling around on the clock, remember?”
They stepped outside into the warm air of a summer evening, heavy with the scent of night-blooming flowers. At the gate, they both paused. Etheric energy surged, Caleb’s hair lifting from his shoulders. A blink, and Gray’s black eyes regarded John.
John touched the Glock in its shoulder holster. “Are you ready?”
Gray smiled, exposing fangs. “Yes.”
John nodded and stepped out onto the sidewalk. “Then let’s hunt.”
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Books by Jordan L. Hawk:
Hainted
Whyborne & Griffin series:
Widdershins
Threshold
Stormhaven
Necropolis
“Eidolon” (A Whyborne & Griffin short story)
“Remnant” written with KJ Charles (A Whyborne & Griffin / The Secret Casebooks of Simon Feximal crossover)
SPECTR
Hunter of Demons
Master of Ghouls
Reaper of Souls
Eater of Lives
Destroyer of Worlds
Summoner of Storms
“Heart of the Dragon” (short story)
About the Author
Jordan L. Hawk grew up in the wilds of North Carolina, where her bootlegging granny raised her on stories of haints and mountain magic. After using a silver knife in the light of a full moon to summon her true love, she turned her talents to spinning tales. She weaves together couples who need to fall in love, then throws in some evil sorcerers and undead just to make sure they want it bad enough. In Jordan’s world, love might conquer all, but it just as easily could end up in the grave.
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Summoner of Storms Page 17