Blood Promise (A SkinWalker Novel #4) (A DarkWorld SkinWalker Novel)

by Ayer, T. G.

But I wasn't yet ready to discuss it with them. First, there was someone I needed to speak to. I raised my hips off the sofa and dug into my jeans pocket for my cellphone. Dialed

  Grams answered on the third ring. "Hey, honey. I'm on my way home. Be there in ten."

  "Er . . ," I hesitated.

  "Is something wrong?"

  Suddenly, I realized I shouldn't be discussing this particular piece of information on an open and unsecured line.

  Grams seem to get the message. "It'll have to wait until I come home," she said, casually. There was something else too, a hint of excitement. "In ten." And she cut the call.

  "What is it?" asked Anjelo, his face tight with impatience.

  "I wanted to wait to hear what Grams had to say first. She'll be here any minute so I guess it doesn't really matter."

  I pushed to my feet and shoved the phone back in my pocket, suddenly restless, needing to pace. "The group is organized. They definitely have a military feel to them."

  Anjelo shrugged. "Anyone can buy military gear. Anyone can look military if they want to."

  "Exactly what I was thinking. But one thing stood out. One thing that made me wonder what the connection was between these men and either Omega or Sentinel."

  "What?" Angelo and Lily spoke together.

  "The weapons they used were normal, standard issue, probably Glocks. But the ammunition they used belongs to an entirely different spectrum."

  I turned to Nerina. "Did you notice the guns?"

  She met my eyes, her expression confused. "I am not sure what you mean."

  "The markings on the weapons. Are they familiar?"

  Nerina shook her head, looking frustrated.

  I shoved my fingers through my hair. "When I first came to Chicago, Storm sent me to Tara when I needed weapons. Working with Tara taught me a few things about weapons manufacturers, more especially paranormal ones. Every paranormal weapons creator is incredibly proud of what they create."

  "And every weapons manufacturer marks his, or her, weapons with their signature," said Anjelo quietly.

  "Exactly."

  "So, the killers are using weapons created by a paranormal weapons manufacturer."

  "Right."

  He scowled. "And there are only a limited number of good paranormal weapons creators and most of them are either attached to, or contracted to, both Sentinel and Omega."

  "So it's possible one of those two organizations have something to do with these killings." Lily's voice shook a little.

  It was odd to hear her give an opinion when Anjelo was around. Back before he'd disappeared into the wraith world, Lily had preferred not to talk when Anjelo and I were together. She hadn't liked me. But now that she'd graduated from unofficial hater to official side-kick it seemed she'd thrown off her shell. And probably burned it along the way.

  Go, Lily.

  I nodded, still pacing. "And we all know which organization we'd put our money on."

  I pulled out my phone again and dialed Logan, then listened to it ringing over and over again. It didn't even go into voice mail.

  Before I could think of the numerous reasons Logan couldn't answer, the apartment door opened and Grams breezed inside. She hung her handbag on the coat rack and came to me.

  Though excitement lit up her eyes, the emotion was tempered by a glint of concern. And something deeper.

  I stopped pacing. "What's happened?"

  "Sealed files. That's what." She slapped a small chip-drive into my palm. "I think I might have tripped a couple of alarms so I got the hell outta Dodge. We need to have a look at this as soon as possible, but first tell me why you called."

  I gave her a quick rundown ending with my thoughts on paranormal ammunitions.

  She blew out a breath. "That makes a hell of a lot of sense."

  "What do you mean?"

  "When--"

  Someone began to hammer on the front door.

  I frowned and sniffed, my panther nose pricking to attention. "I don't know who they are, but I smell tension."

  "Sentinel Military Police," a male voice bellowed over the banging. "Open up."

  As if we had a choice.

  I marched to the door and flung it open. "Damage my property and I'm sending Sentinel the repair bill."

  The officer stalked past me and stopped in front of Grams. "Ivy Odel, your presence is required at headquarters immediately."

  "And this needed a dramatic entrance?" Grams stayed cool, but her voice was edged with steel.

  "Your presence is required in order to answer questions regarding your recent access of Top Secret files."

  "Really? I wasn't aware there were restrictions on my clearance."

  The officer paused. "That is noted. I suggest you take it up with the High Council today."

  Grams sighed. "Very well. Let me get my purse."

  The officer gave a curt nod, watched Grams take her purse from the coat rack, and then shepherded her out the door.

  As she crossed the threshold she looked over her shoulder. "I won't be long, darlings. But if you can't wait, start without me."

  When the door closed behind them I dropped into the nearest chair.

  "Shit," I said.

  What else was there to say?

  CHAPTER 21

  SENTINEL HAD TAKEN GRAMS AND I hadn't done a thing to stop them.

  I clenched my fists and felt the thumb drive bite into my skin. I opened my hand.

  "What's that?" asked Nerina.

  I held up the drive. "Grams must have suspected they would come for her. Just as well she gave it to me first thing."

  Anjelo grinned, as proud of Grams as if she was his own grandparent. "Grandma Ivy is one smart lady."

  "True." I bounced the chip on my palm and then went to my room to grab my laptop.

  As I returned to the dining room and headed to the table Lily laughed.

  "What?" I asked

  "You actually have a laptop?"

  "Of course I do. I'm a woman of the times."

  "So you say," said Anjelo with a smirk.

  "What do you mean?" I said, slightly offended. "I use computers all the time."

  "Sure. Especially when you're traipsing around the Graylands or the wraith world."

  "Or the highlands of Scotland."

  I knew what they meant. After Clancy had died I'd tried to maintain my job at the Rehab Center, but after being poisoned, then scouring the Graylands in search of Greer, then being suckered by Illyria I'd been a little pre-occupied. Life hadn't slowed down any since then, either.

  "How much computer time do you guys put in, anyway?"

  "A whole lot more than you--considering we are actually getting an education."

  "An education which I already have. Just so you don't forget." I tapped in my password, opened a directory, and inserted the drive. Moments later, a slew of files cascaded onto the screen.

  Nerina slid closer as I clicked on a folder. "An education isn't always as important as it's made out to be. Wasn't there a famous computer company owner who hadn't finished university?"

  I raised my eyebrows, impressed. I kept forgetting that death talkers were human to begin with.

  As I tapped on the next file Anjelo grunted. "Text from Storm," he said lifting his phone. "He's asked around and none of the kids have reported anyone suspicious, or even anyone new in the area."

  I let out a breath. "Dead end, then."

  "Yeah. He said he'll keep looking. He sounded very strange when I told him. Like it was a big deal."

  I scowled, my attention no longer on the laptop. "Isn't it?"

  Seeing that Nerina and Lily were also glaring at him Anjelo raised his hands in defense. "Hey. No. That's not what I mean."

  "Then what did you mean," asked Lily, her tone icy.

  Whoa.

  "I meant that Storm took it in stride. Like it hadn't shocked him at all."

  I mulled it over. "So he wasn't surprised."

  "Yep. I mean nope. He wasn't surprised. Shocked.
Upset. But not surprised." Anjelo leaned back and folded his arms. "Why would that be?"

  Not everyone knew that Storm was Immortal. "He's not your run-of-the-mill guy."

  Anjelo shrugged. "Must have something to do with all the time he's been spending with Jess."

  "Maybe." My mind was busy, dancing between worry over Grams and the fact that the files she'd given me all seemed to be empty. Had she taken the wrong ones or were they protected in some way?

  Then what Anjelo had just said clicked in my head. "Storm and Jess?"

  He nodded. "Not romantically. I don't think. Just very . . . busy . . . And very serious."

  "Interesting," I murmured.

  Jess's sudden association with Storm pushed her up my list of people to talk to. If Storm wasn't surprised about the massacres then it was possible Jess knew something.

  No one said anything as I returned my attention to accessing the data. At last one file opened. Letters and numbers filled the screen.

  "What's this?" I asked, flipping the laptop around for Anjelo to see.

  He glanced at the screen and snorted. "How the hell should I know? I don't read code." Judging by the look on his face reading code was in the same category as wearing a dress.

  "Lily?" I asked.

  She shook her head. So did Nerina.

  "Then we're all outta luck," Anjelo said. "Anyone know a coder?"

  I had to smile. "As a matter of fact I do know someone."

  "Who's that?" he asked.

  "My friend Baz. He's a hacker."

  "You know a hacker?" asked Anjelo.

  "Yeah. Cassie and I dropped him off at Storm's yesterday.

  "Oh, the English kid." Anjelo nodded. "He's not much of a talker."

  I smiled and removed the drive. "Can you get him to decode this for me?"

  "You think that's a good idea?" Lily asked frowning. "Shouldn't you keep a copy at least? Or have him come decode it here, or somewhere safer?"

  "Good thinking. I'll figure it out." I tapped the drive into my palm while I tried to decide what was best. At last I sighed and slipped it into my pocket. "You two do some nosing around with the other kids. Ask about anything unusual."

  "But Storm-"

  I cut Lily of with a wave of my hand. "Yeah, but I'd rather not put all my eggs into one basket. The more sources of information we have the better."

  Lily nodded, and as she got to her feet, Anjelo rose with her. They seemed to work fluidly, moving together as if they still belonged. And I hoped for Lily's sake that they really did.

  They were good for each other.

  As they headed to the door,

  I scented Logan on the stairs outside. Hurrying to see the pair out, I greeted him at the door. We huddled for a moment, everyone saying helloes and goodbye, with Anjelo's awkward greeting a little painful to see. He still had problems with Logan and I had to figure that one out as soon as I had time.

  Waving them off, I dragged Logan inside.

  "So?" I asked as Nerina looked on expectantly.

  Logan's expression was dark. "It's not good."

  I sank onto the nearest seat at the dining table. "Is anything good right now?"

  Logan remained standing, his face tight. In the last few days he seemed to have aged a decade.

  "Sit down," I told him. "Tell us what you found"

  He hesitated. Then he pulled another chair out from under the dining table and sat.

  "I scanned the scene report," he said. "It's been tampered with. No entries to suggest a massacre. The incident now reads like a paranormal accident. The energy detectors measured pretty high amounts of paranormal Air energy, which suggests an air mage was involved, but the conclusion is accidental death. The file is now closed."

  I couldn't believe it. "And they didn't get a death talker in?"

  "You saw the scene," he said. "There wasn't much left to talk to."

  "Such things do not matter to a death talker."

  Both Logan and I swung our attention to Nerina.

  "When a death talker dies," she said, "the spirit of that person can roam the normal plane for a certain time. For millennia, this ability has allowed us to communicate with the living, to pass on crucial information, family secrets. In Mika's case, her spirit found its way back to our estate and contacted her mother."

  I shuddered. "That must have been awful for Kira."

  "It was," she said sadly. "Lady Kira may not be the kindest of people but she is respected. Seeing her grief now has made it all the more clear to us how much of her emotion she hides. But Mika's arrival alerted us to the fact that she'd been killed and as soon as she showed us her vision, Lady Kira and I traveled to the scene to verify it."

  "Verify?"

  "Lady Kira could not completely trust the word of her daughter even in death. They had a lot of history." Nerina sighed and twisted her fingers. "The scene confirmed what Mika had said. Confirmed, too, that there was little left of her body. So we left."

  "Kira didn't want to claim her child?"

  Nerina shook her head.

  I sat back, not understanding. "There are urns in your castle containing the remains of long-dead high-priestesses, but Kira's own flesh and blood isn't important enough to take home?"

  My voice had taken on a dangerously critical edge.

  Nerina's lips curved but it wasn't a happy smile. "Lady Kira does what she must. She felt that it would endanger the rest of the order if we came forward to claim the body."

  "She wanted to avoid the scandal," I said, my voice hard. "She knew any media attention would focus on her relationship--or lack of a relationship--with Mika and would have been bad for her reputation."

  And suddenly I no longer wanted to discuss Kira. Her daughter was more important.

  I turned back to Logan. "I want to see the scene for myself."

  Logan sat back, his brow creasing. "I'm not sure we can do that. Both Sentinel and Omega have people watching the place."

  "I can get in and out and they'll never know I was there."

  Skepticism gleamed in his eyes. "Turning into a panther doesn't always make you safe. It can make you vulnerable."

  I scowled. "I'm fully capable of protecting myself, panther or otherwise."

  "I'm well aware of that," he said. "But there are armed agents guarding scene. Not even your panther can survive being shot by modern weaponry."

  He had a point. "But I still need to see the scene myself. I might just pick up on something you all missed."

  Logan nodded. "Fine. We haven't used a walker at the scene. Your sense of smell may provide more information."

  I got to my feet and dusted off the seat of my jeans. "I'm ready. Call Saleem."

  Logan frowned. "I don't want to get him involved."

  "He's already involved," I said, starting to lose patience. "And I can just imagine what he'll say when he finds out you went without asking him to help you." I raised an eyebrow. "Or would you rather I asked?"

  In answer, Logan drew out his phone.

  While he called Saleem I talked to Nerina. "Will you be able to get there on your own?"

  Death talkers can move within the ether, going from place to place wherever they are needed. I'd also heard they used the Graylands to travel.

  Nerina nodded. "I know where the place is. I shall meet you there." She drew her hood back over her head. "But first, I should report to the Lady Kira."

  I made a face. "Just be careful what you tell her. A lot of what we have is just speculation. We don't want to get her hopes up."

  Nerina nodded, her expression determined, as if she was building up the strength to face the grieving woman. "I will tell her only what is necessary. Don't worry, Kailin. We are both on the same team."

  I smiled and nodded. Watched as she disappeared into a tiny hurricane of gray shadow and then disintegrated into nothing.

  And wondered which team Nerina would support when it came to a fight.

  CHAPTER 22

  WITH NERINA GONE, I TURNED to Log
an, ready to depart. And saw the expression of concern on his face. I smiled and he took me in his arms. There, in the privacy of the empty apartment he let himself go. What started as a simple hug built fast into a passionate kiss. I'd missed him so much and the depth of my need for him built as our lips met in blazing heat.

  Finally he pulled away. Squeezed my butt. "Saleem's on his way, you know."

  About five feet away someone cleared their throat. "Already here."

  We both turned to the djinn, and found him grinning, his dark eyes sparkling. It always amazed me how he found the time for humor in the middle of all the mayhem that defined his life.

  He clapped her hands together then rubbed them vigorously. "Now where are we headed on this clandestine mission?"

  I gave him the address and told him to take us a block away. Appearing inside the room while it was occupied would be a bad move.

  The shift through the planes was as disorienting as always, and my stomach turned. I was a big bad alpha panther and I got ether-sick. How embarrassing.

  And just as suddenly as we'd left we returned to the human plane, the ground beneath my feet solidifying as the quiet street slowly came into view.

  Cicero was a small city, west of Chicago, which had at one time been a bustling city. Not anymore. Now, most of the buildings were abandoned as citizens sought better opportunities in other more lucrative cities.

  But the city, like Chicago, hadn't been entirely abandoned. Although Chicago still had a city council to maintain services, facilities, and run numerous businesses, Cicero had no council, and provided nothing to its citizens. The people who remained had to live without power and water, and so the city's atmosphere had sunk into something akin to a squatter camp.

  Along its southern edge ran what had once been a popular night spot. Its restaurants and bars now stood abandoned and bare, with glass frontages smashed, and doors hanging open to dust, dirt, and animals.

  As we moved down the street I allowed my panther to filter through my senses. Sounds of scurrying. Sniffing. The stench of garbage, old fat. And desperation.

  Logan led us to the nearest corner, paused, and then peered around it into the street on the right. From that position we should be able to see right inside the destroyed room, the energy blast having destroyed a good portion of the front wall.