Furious Fire: Grimm's Circle, Book 8

by Shiloh Walker

Then control it, a ruthless, cold voice in her head insisted.

  Control it? Half hysterical, she wondered what in the hell it was she was supposed to control.

  Learn, or hurt.

  Then the voice was gone and she continued to fall, fall…

  A hand caught hers, yanked her close.

  The familiar body pressed to hers first made her panic. Luc. Luc was there and he was going to…to…

  Abruptly her mind cleared and she realized what was happening. She didn’t know why. Or how. But it was one of the portals. She’d traveled through them thousands of times, always with Will. He handled them so easily, with just a flex of his mind.

  Control it—

  That wild power was her. And if it was her, then she could damn well control it.

  Opening her eyes, she stared around at the bright light, struggling to breathe past the force that seemed to contract and expand around her like the energy wanted to swallow her whole. You’d choke on me, she thought sourly as she focused. Slow. They had to slow…

  Bit by bit, they did.

  Bit, by bit.

  The pressure on her body eased.

  She tasted blood, though and her ribs, her chest, her back, her everything hurt.

  There was a whine—the sound shattered her concentration as she realized what it was. “Krell…”

  The sound was ripped from her lips even as she spoke it.

  But inside her mind, she heard Luc. I have him—that was when she felt the huge presence caught between her and Luc. Furry, warm, trembling. And wet. Bleeding. The poor thing—

  Resolute, she focused her mind once more. Slow. Slow. And then she focused on yet one more thing.

  Will—

  Voices rose around her.

  She heard them for one split second, saw the green grass hurtling toward her and she braced herself.

  Then…nothing.

  A cushion of air seemed to grab them and she heard an awful, sickening crack. Whipping her head around, she stared in shock as the portal imploded on itself.

  In the next moment, that cushion of air faded. Just faded and she felt herself sinking to the ground. Blood dripped from her nose. Luc slowly lifted his head. His sightless eyes locked on her face unerringly and he said flatly, “You’re hurt.”

  She brushed a hand down the bruises mottling his face. “So are you, Sleeping Beauty.”

  Then, taking in a shallow breath and wincing at the pain it caused, she looked up as Will came striding toward them.

  Luc was on his feet in the next second and he had a knife in his hand, lunging for Will.

  “You son of a bitch!”

  Will took the punch.

  Sina had never once seen him take a punch and for a second, she was too stunned to do anything but sit there. But as Luc braced to attack again, she shot to her feet and shoved between them. “Stop it!”

  Luc barely heard her. “You bastard. You had to know she’d been injured. But you yank us through the expressway from hell. You son of a bitch!” he snarled at Will.

  “Luc.” She gripped the front of his shirt, using every bit of strength she had in her body—and it was considerable—to hold him back. “That wasn’t Will.”

  Her words had no response at first.

  Then, slowly, he stopped straining at her hold and lowered his head. One hand came up, cupping her cheek. “What?”

  “That was me,” she whispered, something slightly sick moving through her. Turning her head, she looked at Will. “What’s going on?”

  Will inclined his head. “I don’t know.”

  But there was a flash in his eyes. One that made her wonder.

  While Luc cared for his dog, Sina and Will stood at the cliff.

  Nobody came near them.

  Their hands were linked and she had opened her shields to him. With most of the Grimm, Will didn’t need them to open their minds, but Sina was old, the oldest of them, next to him, and her shields had always been strong. Now, it seemed, they were even stronger.

  “Something in stasis changed you,” he said softly.

  She didn’t respond. Change inside them, or with any of them, only happened on what she thought of as an as-needed basis. She’d woken too soon from stasis, healed and feeling far too well for what had happened. She’d opened a gate, a gift that previously had only been known to Will. Oh, and she was hearing voices.

  None of the bruises from that expressway in hell, as Luc had called it, remained and other than being really hungry, Sina felt fine.

  She could think of only one reason why she’d gotten this kind of upgrade.

  But her mind refused to acknowledge it.

  “Don’t worry about stasis. You need to know about the dream. The memory is there. Take it.”

  She felt the light brush of his presence whisper in her mind. And then she was falling back into that memory, with him as a bystander.

  It was both terribly fast, and horribly slow, and through it all, she saw things she hadn’t noticed. They were on a cliff—and there was a churning ocean at the base of the cliff. On the opposite side, it sloped down into a valley and there, the chasms started. Like she was reliving it all again, images super-imposed over the dream and she found herself tugging her hands from Will. He let her, the connection lingering between them as she looked out, sightlessly, over the ruins and the field of green, sweeping down into a valley.

  Like a nightmarish negative.

  “It imitates our world,” she whispered, stunned she’d never seen this before. “Why didn’t I know this?”

  There was no answer, but she knew he’d heard her. She felt Will walking alongside that part of her that was still in the dream.

  When it ended, she sank to her knees. The food she’d hurriedly eaten after she’d woken churned in her gut and she wanted to hurl it up. Grimm learned control over their bodies within months of coming over and she fought the urge, knowing she needed the fuel from the food, and she couldn’t waste the energy. Plus, it was really just awful to vomit.

  She wished she had a way to express her horror, though.

  Her horror.

  Her fear.

  “There are hundreds.” Her voice was listless, even to her own ears.

  “Yes.” Will continued to stand, his gaze on the soldiers he’d summoned to his side. Sixty of them. It could be enough, she supposed. But what if there were other ambushes like this coming up over the world?

  What then?

  “We fight, Sina. It’s what we do.”

  Then he strode off, leaving her there alone as she struggled to wrap her mind around what was happening.

  Part of her wanted to say, But we can’t win this…

  She knew better, though. She was one of the old ones and she knew all about monsters and curses and death in the night. Maybe that was why she was still so superstitious even after almost eighteen centuries of life.

  She wouldn’t say those words—saying them could give that very thing power.

  There was little warning.

  I knew something was wrong—even if there weren’t four or five dozen of those shiny people out there, I knew.

  It was like a rolling blackness spreading out from under me and it made my teeth hurt, my head ache, and what I wanted more than anything was a weapon. I was a sitting duck, trapped inside those walls of rock and I knew it.

  Moving through the busted, broken corridor that had probably once been rather grand, I paused in the arched entry and stared out. They felt it too. I could see by the grim set of their faces.

  So many of them.

  Not a one gleamed quite as bright as Will.

  And none of them drew my eye the way Finn did, but I was still pissed off at him. Sweetheart…it was an irrational anger and I knew it and I didn’t care. How many times had I come back to find him?
<
br />   He didn’t even know me. He stood there while I was hurting and needing him and he called another woman sweetheart.

  “Here.”

  Lo and behold.

  I stared at the woman in front of me, that irrational anger surging inside me once more.

  It was the woman Finn had talked to—easily, like they were friends. I remembered a time when he’d talked to me that way. So, so long ago. Absently, I glanced down at what she held out for me and I frowned.

  Then my eyes widened.

  Okay, so I preferred pistols, especially the older style, but that, oh yeah. That was a thing of beauty. I studied the UMP, a submachine gun manufactured by Heckler & Koch. My hands started to itch and I had to fight to keep from snatching it out of her hands.

  Instead, I looked up and lifted a brow. “What’s this?”

  “You don’t want to be someplace without a weapon, do you? Seriously?”

  Slowly, I reached out and closed my hand around it. “What makes you think I can use it?”

  A man with blond hair pulled back in a ponytail came striding up. He gave me a critical once-over and then looked at the brunette for a minute before focusing on me.

  I’d already shifted the UMP in my hands, learning the weight, the balance of it.

  A faint smile curved his lips as he watched me. “I suspect you know how.” Then, he stopped, frowning as his eyes narrowing on my face.

  I began to feel like a bug under a microscope.

  I felt that pressure on my head again. It wasn’t as hard as it had been with Will, not even, but I’d already put up with too much of this bullshit. Gritting my teeth, I snarled at him, “Stay out of my head.”

  That seemed to shock him.

  “Well.” The woman smiled. “Aren’t you full of surprises?” Then she reached over, resting a hand on the man’s chest as he opened his mouth. “Rip, we’ve got enough to deal with. So does she. Let it go for now.”

  Her blue eyes continued to cut into me. “Will said your name was Kalypso. Can you use that, yes or no?”

  Heaving out a sigh, I looked it over, checked the ammo. Then I lifted it and turned, sighting down the barrel. I didn’t try to fire—no telling who was in the trees, but I needed to know the feel of it. “Yes. I can use it. Is there more ammo?”

  Wordlessly, the man turned over several more magazines.

  I knew enough about this kind of weapon to now worry. Or worry more. That…was a lot of ammo. “Just what in the hell are you expecting to show up?”

  “Just that. A little piece of Hell,” he said grimly. He gave me another harsh once-over. “I don’t know why Will’s keeping a human here, but you’re dead meat if you don’t have something to protect yourself with. You look like you know how to use it. Make sure you use it if the time comes. Don’t wait, don’t hesitate. I’m going to strangle Will if he doesn’t find someplace safe for you—or as safe as we can get in the time we have. Once I figure out where that is, if anything comes in after you, you’ll be able to take it down with that. Try not to panic and shoot at somebody wearing one of these.”

  He tugged at the pendant around his neck, one that seemed to glow to my eyes.

  This is so messed up… I shifted the UMP in my hands as I studied him. “You aren’t telling me what’s going on. You’re putting me someplace with the kind of weapon that might be able to take down a T-Rex and you give me the instructions not to shoot at the shiny people wearing shiny necklaces.”

  Now that dark gaze of his narrowed even more.

  “Shiny,” he said slowly.

  “Yes.” I drew the world out and looked around. “Every single person here shines. Especially that one.” I pointed at Will and then smiled sweetly at the broody blond. If they expected me to pretend I didn’t know they weren’t exactly normal, too bad. “It’s enough to give me a migraine. So I don’t shoot the shiny people. What am I supposed to shoot?”

  “I’d tell you but I doubt your cute ass can handle it,” he said shortly. Then he caught the other woman around the waist, pulled her close. “Find me. Soon.” He landed a hard kiss on her mouth and strode off.

  “Ignore Rip,” she said, sighing. “He’s usually one of the more courteous ones, but he’s…”

  She looked back at me.

  “Scared.” I finished it for her and saw the answer in her eyes even if she wouldn’t speak it. Knowing that these people—or whatever they were—were scared made me feel so, so much worse. I was surrounded by things that could rip open gates or whatever Will had called that thing. He’d healed me. I’d seen Finn using fire…

  My heart wrenched. Finn. He’d been a lover. Full of laughter that hid a wicked temper. Yeah, he’d always been a fighter, but what had turned him into…my gaze sought him out.

  “You know him.”

  Her voice—Greta—that was what her name was, I thought. Greta’s voice was soft and low. “Can’t really say that,” I said. “I made the fool mistake of crashing into him and Will just the other day. First time I’ve seen him.”

  “That’s both complete truth and utter bullshit,” she mused.

  I tried not to notice the interest in her voice, busying myself as I pocketed the ammo. The side pockets on the trousers I’d been given came in handy, holding the magazines Rip had given me. What kind of name was Rip anyway?

  “You do know him. I feel it.”

  I jerked my head up and glared at her, tried to ignore the wrench in my heart. “Let it go,” I said, my voice low, hoarse. “I don’t know what you think you know, but just let it go.”

  Her eyes softened. “You’ve spent your entire life being different, Kalypso. For the first time, you’re around others who would probably understand. Letting go is the last thing you need. But now…it’s so not the time.”

  “Yeah and doesn’t it just suck? Because I’m not going to survive this.” My gaze sought him out and I realized he was watching me. Turning away, I strode back into the ruin of a castle. “I never do.”

  Sina came around the edge of the ruins just as the mortal disappeared inside.

  Greta stood there with a look of utter frustration on her face.

  When she noticed Sina, she frowned and turned on her heel, striding away.

  “That was…odd.” Sina fell into step next to the younger angel. Of course, Greta would probably snort to be considered young. She’d been born in 1520, nearly five hundred years earlier. Not young, really.

  Unless compared to somebody like Sina.

  “Odd doesn’t touch it.” Greta stopped and crossed her arms over her chest. “My…abilities are growing. I’ve gone down twice in the past five years, spent a month in stasis the first time—then three years later, I was…well, disemboweled and my right arm was ripped off. Rip was pissed. I was under for six months, regenerating new organs, a new limb.” She grimaced and shot Sina a look. “When I woke up, Rip was climbing the walls. And I could feel every emotion—worse, when he felt the call to go on a hunt, I felt it too. I feel crazy connections. We were already on our way here before Will sent out the call. I just knew we needed to be here.”

  Sina cocked her head, waiting.

  Greta glanced over her shoulder toward where the mortal hid. “There’s a connection. Her…and Finn. And she believes she’ll die.”

  “You’re worried about a mortal’s sense of foreboding?” Sina asked.

  “Yes. My gut says she’s got a reason to be right.” She shivered and ran her hands up and down her arms. “He’s fighting it, but I look at them and it’s like…it’s like looking at Michael and Elle. They fought it for years, but they belong together. They always did. Their souls fit—and it’s like they know each other.”

  Then Greta sighed and shrugged. “But that’s insane, because in all his years, Finn never once let himself feel anything for anybody. Did he?”

  Greta strode off, the thic
k rope of her hair hanging halfway down her back.

  Sina, though, stood rooted to the ground.

  Greta was wrong.

  He’d felt something once.

  Just not in this life.

  Chapter Twelve

  Mandy knew, without a doubt, that she was going to get her ass ripped over this.

  Mandy knew, without a doubt, that it didn’t matter.

  Will had left days earlier and she’d been on his trail only hours after he’d left.

  It had gutted her to take Natasha to a hospital, but she’d done it, using the story Will had fabricated over the past few months. He’d crafted a tale to explain her disappearance from the mortal world, from the time she’d disappeared in Greece, to now. Although he’d been reluctant each time she’d broached the subject, Will was nothing if not pragmatic—a fact she’d both hated and admired.

  The memories that had haunted Natasha were now gone. Maybe she could heal now.

  It hurt Mandy to do it—it felt wrong. The ever-growing healing gift had changed and warped…nobody should be able to alter memories, but that was what she did. She let the woman remember the murders of her friend, let her remember the horror of the house, but she had to strip away the memory of angels, of demons, of a ghost that had reanimated the dead.

  It might be Natasha’s only chance to heal and regardless, she couldn’t risk having the woman somehow speak of what she’d seen.

  Maybe Natasha would recover. Maybe she wouldn’t. It was time Mandy accept the truth of it—some things she couldn’t change or fix.

  She wasn’t far from Will now, and she knew, better than some, what she was going to find.

  Death hung in the air. It was so thick she could taste it in the back of her mouth. Ever since she’d come back to life, not all that long ago, she’d felt death like it was her constant companion. Not that it stalked her, but she could feel when it moved in closer on the others.

  Three months ago, one of the Grimm had died. A bocan had torn the head from a quiet, soft-spoken man by the name of John. There had been nothing particularly remarkable about John—other than the fact that he’d been an angel and he’d done his job with quiet, determined focus. He’d also died, violently.