…the searing heat of his lips as they seemed to engulf one entire side of her face.
…the sensation of her flesh melting away, leaving her bones exposed to the light, as he pushed her away and turned his attention to Cade.
Just as quickly as they had come the memories vanished, leaving her gasping for breath in front of the computer screen. It took her several minutes to compose herself and when she had done so, she discovered that her time on the computer had run out.
No matter, she thought. She’d gotten what she needed.
She’d start her search in Boston.
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CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
After being released from the brig, Riley returned to regular duty only to find that his mission status had been downgraded and that he had been reassigned to training duty until further notice.
It didn’t take a Ph.D. to figure out who was behind the change in status, either.
He fumed when he saw the paperwork, but if he didn’t want to end up right back in the brig he was going to have to go with the flow and not cause additional problems. He’d had time to think and he wasn’t just going to sit idly by and watch things deteriorate without taking action to protect his men.
When the opportunity arose, he called the leaders of the six combat teams – Alpha, Beta, Charlie, Delta, Echo, and Gamma – together for a video conference to discuss recent events. He waited until he could see the faces of the other five team commanders on his screen and then got right to it.
“Thank you all for coming. I know we’re all extraordinarily busy lately, so I’ll keep this brief. I’m concerned with the way things are being handled and I want to touch base with each of you to see where you stand.”
had run into during their latest missions.
He went on to detail the issues he’d been seeing of late, including an increase in the rate of supernatural activity leading to too many back-to-back missions, a reduction in the quality of the intelligence behind the missions being sent down from command, along with support and logistical problems like those Echo and Gamma .
The others agreed that things were far from ideal. They were exhausted and the end didn’t seem to be anywhere in sight.
Gant, Charlie’s leader, voiced a question Riley had long been wondering about himself. “What the heck is going on out there, is what I want to know! For years there seemed to be a balance, a kind of equilibrium between the forces of the light and the dark. Sure, we had our share of crises, but nothing on the scale we’re seeing now. We’ve got a new problem every time we turn around. It’s like there’s something in the water, riling everything up.”
According to the mission logs, supernatural activity was up by nearly thirty percent since the death of the Adversary. Now that didn’t mean the two were related, but Riley couldn’t help but wonder if something had been triggered by the fallen angel’s demise. Were the other supernatural entities responding to some kind of power vacuum that the Templars hadn’t anticipated?
Even that wasn’t the worst of Riley’s fears. He’d been looking at the numbers for the last few days and he was starting to see a pattern that was troubling to say the least. The veterans were seeing more than their fair share of the work, which, he supposed might make some sense. After all, if he were in charge he’d want his most experienced men dealing with the more significant issues. But when those men were wounded or killed in action, their replacements were coming from the ever-increasing pool of new recruits rather than promoting the men already in line for those openings.
In the past, the Echo Team commander had control over such promotions, but all that had changed in the wake of Cade’s departure.
Like so much of everything else.
Those new appointments were directly under Preceptor Johannson’s control, but given his own personal issues with the man he wasn’t yet ready to voice his suspicions to the others that the Preceptor was actively trying to undermine the reliability of the combat units. He would definitely do so as soon as he had more proof, but for the time being he decided to keep his suspicions to himself and issue a more generalized warning.
“I want you all to keep your eyes open. If you notice anything unusual, let me know about it ASAP.”
“Unusual? Like what?” Tyler asked.
“I don’t know, Tyler. Anything that strikes you out of the ordinary. Even if it’s just a bad feeling in your gut, I want to know about it, okay? Dismissed.”
He wrapped up the call, knowing he’d probably left them more confused than anything else, but it would have to do for the time being. When he had the evidence, he’d bring them into his confidence.
When he had the evidence.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Gabrielle was halfway across Ohio when Death came for her a second time.
She’d been walking northeast along Route 32 since mid-afternoon, being ignored by every driver that came roaring past, and with the sun going down she was hoping someone would take pity on her and not leave her trudging along all night in the cold.
The sound of an approaching engine split the early evening air behind her and she turned to see a vehicle approaching. She stuck out her thumb, just as she’d done the last hundred times a car had come along, fully expecting it to go rushing past.
It did, too, the driver barely glancing at her as he drove by, but then, to her surprise, the car pulled over to the shoulder about fifty yards beyond where she stood.
Perhaps her luck was changing.
She hurried to catch up before the driver changed his or her mind.
As she drew closer she could see that the vehicle was an older model Cadillac, the kind that just seemed to go on forever. This one was dark blue or maybe black, it was hard to tell in the dim light, and had dried mud obscuring most of the license plate.
The passenger window slid down smoothly as she drew closer.
Gabrielle bent over to look inside the car and in the second before doing so was suddenly overcome by the intense scent of ozone, as if she were standing in a field and sniffing the air in the split second after lightning strikes a few feet away. It was there and gone again in an instant, so swift that she might have thought she had imagined it if it weren’t for the fact that she’d smelled something like it once before.
This time she recognized it for the warning it was.
All of this passed through her mind in the space of a heartbeat, barely long enough for her to even hesitate, as she looked into the vehicle through the open passenger window.
“Need a ride?”
The voice was male and belonged to the young man sitting behind the wheel. Gabrielle put him at about thirty, maybe thirty-five. He was big; not fat, big. His hands looked like ham hocks sitting there on the steering wheel and his shoulders filled the space on that side of the car, making him seem bigger still.
Despite his size, he didn’t appear threatening to her as she stared at him through the open window. He had a calm, jovial way about him, if the smile on his face and the tone of his voice were any indication. Just a good boy from a good family making his way home after work.
But Gabrielle wasn’t fooled; not for a moment. For beneath that friendly façade, she saw another lurking like a shadow, full of dark hunger and twisted need.
Still, she didn’t give any sign that she saw through his disguise.
“I do,” she said, letting a smile of her own slip across her face. “Think you can give me one?”
The driver glanced at the road behind him in the rearview mirror and then back at her.
Looking for witnesses? Gabrielle wondered.
“Where are you headed?” the driver asked.
“Vermont,” she lied. “Montpelier, to be exact.”
Another glance, this time out the side mirror, as the driver seemed to mull it over.
“I’m going to Albany,” he said at last. “I can get you that far, at least. Hop in.”
With her hand on the door handle, Gabrielle considered th
e choice before her. It was a do or die moment, she knew. If she got into the car, she would be putting her life on the line, for this man was not who he appeared to be. On the other hand, if she walked away someone else would eventually be standing where she was now and their death would ultimately be on her conscience for not taking care of the situation when she had the chance.
This man was a killer; she had no doubt about that. The warning she’d just been given told her as much. So, too, did that inner voice that had been subconsciously guiding her since she’d left the hospital in Juarez, the voice that was telling her to get as far away from this guy as she possibly could.
She opened the door and slipped inside.
The driver’s name was Jeff. He was pleasant enough for the first few hours, chattering on about this or that in an effort to appear normal. He happily paid for her meal when they stopped to get something to eat after crossing the Pennsylvania border, smiling all the while. Gabrielle had to give him credit; it was a good act.
His disposition began to take a darker turn, however, once the sun went down and they neared the New York state line.
“How was your meal?” he asked, seemingly out of the blue.
“Fine thanks,” she replied.
Silence for a few moments, and then, “You know that meal cost me nearly ten bucks?”
“Did it?”
“It did. Ten bucks. And if you add in the cost of the extra gas I’m using to take you where you need to go…”
If he was truly going to Albany, which she doubted, he would have traveled the same route they had been taking all afternoon, so she knew his claims of additional expense were as fake as his smile. But that was beside the point. He was finally making his move and she was curious to see how it played out.
“Just what are you saying?” she asked, turning slightly in her seat to face him.
“Just that the ride, the food, they aren’t free. They cost me money and I should be able to recoup my losses, right?”
Here it comes, she thought.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t have any money.”
He shrugged, still not looking at her. “Who’s talking about money? There are other ways of paying.”
Of course there are. And I’m going to make damn sure that you get what’s coming to you!
She was quiet for a moment, pretending to think it over. When he finally glanced in her direction, she smiled coyly and said, “If you find a place to pull over for a bit, I’m sure we can figure something out.”
The smile he gave her never reached his eyes.
Fifteen minutes later they came upon a highway weigh station that looked like it hadn’t been in operation for years. It must have seemed a suitable location for whatever Jeff had in mind, for he pulled off the highway and followed the curving sweep of the off-ramp into the station proper. A small building that had once served as an office stood abandoned before the now-defunct scales and Jeff parked the car behind it, out of sight from the highway below.
Gabrielle let her right hand slip down between the seat and the door as Jeff turned off the engine.
Wait for it.
It didn’t take long. Jeff turned toward her and his fist came rocketing out of nowhere, aimed right at her face.
It was a short, sharp, savage blow, no doubt intended to slam her head against the hard surface of the window beside her, the kind of blow that would take her out of the game right from the start, giving him all the time he needed to render her helpless and completely at his mercy.
What happened after that would not be pleasant. Of that she was certain.
Which was why she pulled up on the lever that reclined her seat the moment she sensed his arm moving in her direction, dropping the seat backwards with a sudden lurch that took her out of line with the blow. Instead of connecting with the side of her head, Jeff’s fist continued past the point where she’d just been and connected with the window with knuckle-shattering force.
Gabrielle’s would-be torturer let out a howl of pain and jerked his hand back into his lap.
In that moment, he was vulnerable and Gabrielle didn’t let it go to waste. She sat up and, as he turned to glare at her with more anger and hatred than she had ever seen, she sent the knife edge of her left palm crashing into Jeff’s exposed throat, crushing his windpipe.
With the damage to his throat Jeff had only seconds to live. Gabrielle expected him to sit there vainly trying to get air into his lungs as his life ebbed away and as a result was caught unprepared when he threw himself atop her instead, wrapping his hands around her throat and pinning her against the unyielding surface of the door.
If he was going to die, he apparently intended to take her with him as well.
Within seconds Gabrielle’s vision began to dim and she knew she was in serious trouble. Her right arm was pinned behind her but her left arm was free and so she used that to hammer blow after blow against the side of her attacker’s head, to no avail. The sound of labored breathing reached her ears, but she didn’t know if it was her own or Jeff’s.
She tried to twist and buck against her attacker’s weight, to no avail. It was as if the presence of his own imminent death had given him super-human strength and nothing she did was having any effect against him.
Gabrielle could feel her pulse pounding heavily in her head as she fought for breath, willing herself just to hang on for a few seconds longer, praying that he would lose consciousness before she did…
Her right hand fell against the door handle.
With a surge of desperate strength, she gave it a quick yank and felt herself falling backward even as darkness swept across her mind.
When she came to, however many seconds or minutes later that was, she found herself lying half in and half out of the car, her back against the cold pavement of the weigh station parking area and her feet trapped in the car above her by the weight of Jeff’s unmoving body.
She kicked her way free, climbed to her feet, her gaze fixed on the man who’d just tried to kill her. When he didn’t move for several moments it became clear that there was no longer any need to worry. He’d run out of air before she had and his body lay there, limp and lifeless.
Fuck you, she thought, as she raised one hand to rub her aching throat. What the hell was it with people trying to strangle her to death? That was twice in less than a week!
It was going to take some time for the bruises to fade, she knew, but better bruised than dead.
Words to live by.
Knowing that every moment she spent there was another moment that a state trooper or other law enforcement officer might come meandering down the road in her direction, Gabrielle didn’t waste any time and got to work with single-minded efficiency that surprised even her. Grabbing Jeff’s arm, she dragged him clear of the car and then, after looking around a moment, across the small parking area to the edge of the scrubland beyond. A drainage ditch ran parallel to the pavement and she rolled his corpse down into it, silently sending him off with another curse and the fervent wish that he’d remain there and rot.
Returning to the car, she took the keys out of the ignition and stepped over to the trunk. Inside she found just what she’d expected to find; a suitcase full of “souvenirs” from Jeff’s previous victims. Just looking through it turned her stomach, thinking of all the lives the dozens of items represented. From the look of it all, he’d been plying his trade on the highways for some time.
That created a bit of a problem for her conscience. All of these items represented prior victims who most likely had family wondering and waiting to hear what happened to them and she was now in possession of the only evidence. Of course turning it over to the police would get her tied up in the investigation into not only their deaths, but of their killer’s as well.
She didn’t have time or either.
Gabrielle pondered the problem for a moment and then made her decision. She closed the suitcase back up and then wiped down the handle and sides where she might have touched it wit
h a loose rag she found in the trunk. Putting the rag over the handle, she picked up the suitcase and carried it over to the edge of the ditch where she had dumped the body, leaving it in plain sight. Once she was out of Pennsylvania, she’d stop and place an anonymous call to the Pennsylvania state police and let them know what was waiting for them here.
It wasn’t a perfect solution, but it was the best she could do for now.
Walking back over to the car, she glanced around to be certain she hadn’t left anything behind that might tie her to the scene and then, satisfied, she got in, started the engine, and drove off into the night.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Seneschal Ferguson was waiting in his office when Silas Green arrived there at exactly nine the next morning.
Green hadn’t wanted to come; had, in fact, done all he could to ignore the summons, but the thing living in his head hadn’t left him any choice. When Green attempted to resist the mental command to report to the Seneschal, the conqueror worm played with the nerve junctures deep inside his brain, sending waves of excruciating pain throughout his body. After passing out from pain and being revived almost as quickly by the worm, Green finally gave in and went to see the Seneschal.
Upon Green’s arrival, the Seneschal invited him in and directed him to take the same chair as before. Green showed no apprehension in doing so, which was good; that said the conqueror worm was still influencing the man’s action. That would make the next step that much easier, Ferguson knew.
“It’s time to report in,” Ferguson said.
Green’s eyes grew wide, but that was the only outward indication that he objected to, or even heard, what Ferguson had said to him.
The Seneschal didn’t care. He didn’t need Green’s agreement for what came next.
Stepping forward, he placed his hands on either side of Green’s head and called forth his power, linking himself through arcane means to the creature residing in Green’s brain.
Closing his eyes, the Seneschal watched everything Green had said, done, and observed for the last few days flash past on the inner screen of his mind. When came upon something he wanted to observe in more detail, he slowed the feed to a crawl, viewing the scene in near real-time. Most of what Green had witnessed was of no interest to Ferguson, but his senses perked up when he got to the meeting between the combat team leaders. He listened to Captain Riley’s conference with annoyance and then swept forward through the rest of Green’s memories before deciding he’d seen all he needed to see.
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