Hypochondria was an eternal illness.
Satisfied she had been heard, the woman laid back down and exploded in anguish again.
Deeming her a lost cause, Jennie muttered a swift goodbye and made her way to the wall.
She closed her eyes and silently latched onto the woman, draining as little power as possible to not give her a further excuse to complain.
Jennie walked through the wall, and the woman’s voice was gone, replaced by the echo of her footsteps on the marble floors.
The loyalists closed in on them like a pack of wolves on an injured lamb.
Baxter fired several shots with his pistol, taking chunks out of nearby specters. He swung his wrench to slow the coming horde.
Gunshots dispersed from the crowd around him every time a specter could shoot without hurting one of their own.
Projectiles were thrown and fired from all angles. The Spectral Plane was buried under a volley of missiles, and still, they fought proudly. The specters pinned at the front of the huddle used their weapons to deflect the barrage of enemies pushing against them.
Using his size to his advantage, Baxter almost swam through the crowd. It was clear they hadn’t put their best fighters forward since the loyalists folded under his attacks. Soon a ring of fallen bodies littered the collision zone between the Spectral Plane and the loyalists.
Occasionally Rico reappeared to take a jab at a group before vanishing again. A few moments passed, and he fired his Tommy gun, bringing several Spectral Planes specters down.
Man, that would be one handy power to have, Baxter thought. He grunted as someone kicked his leg and retaliated with a return kick that sent the specter flying backward into the crowd.
Camo and her men threw kicks and punches and managed to hold their own. All trained in combat, they blocked and parried as though they had been fighting all of their lives.
Fortunately, the Spectral Plane had their best fighters at the front.
They fought like this for several minutes, the Spectral Plane crowd doing all they could to attack the enemy and lead them into a false sense of security. There were some minor gains in ground, and some losses. The match appeared to be destined to end in a stalemate. However, a lone specter appeared on a balcony above and stared at the crowd, waiting for the signal that would switch the battle up a gear.
Feng Mian lowered himself into a cross-legged position. He went unnoticed to everyone involved in the fight, which gave him a perfect moment of concentration. He took a deep breath and stared through the gap in the railings at the Spectral Plane specters fighting down below. He placed the tips of his index fingers against his temple and focused his power.
In the square, Rico reappeared in front of Baxter with a shit-eating grin on his face. “I’m going to enjoy doing this,” he told Baxter, pointing the Tommy gun in Baxter’s face. He pulled the trigger and—
A flash of powerful blue light deflected the bullets and sent them ricocheting into the crowd. Several specters were caught with the rebound and fell.
Rico roared in anger and tried again. Baxter stood behind the blue shield and waved. He reared his arm to punch and found his fist connected the shield, too.
Shit! He didn’t tell us it was a two-way shield.
Rico now searched for the source of the shield. Having encountered the damn thing before, he scanned the group and searched the buildings.
“They’ve kept a specter behind!” he shouted, his face turning beet-red. “Find him! Find the lone specter!”
“Lone specter?” Lupe appeared on a balcony on the far side of the Square and shouted down. “You’ve got to be kidding. Attack!”
Rico’s face dropped as the remainder of the Spectral Plane poured into the street. They appeared from the buildings all around, melting out of the brickwork and launching themselves at the loyalists.
Rico barked commands at Camo.
She reluctantly left her position and made her way through the crowd toward the new invaders.
Lupe gave a smug grin, imagining what was happening behind the veil of fog. He could hear everything, but there was no hope in hell of seeing what was going on.
He stood up straight and clutched the balcony, unaware of the danger coming from the street below.
A police officer spotted the mortal man standing above the fog, calling down to “attack.” He aimed his gun at the balcony and fired.
Chapter Fifty
The Empire State Building, New York City
The inside of the building was a stark contrast to the noise of the city outside. Silence pressed in as Jennie made her way up the stairs, treading as softly as she went.
She was human now. With no specters to latch onto, she was by herself in the mortal world. Jennie dismissed her ponderings about her mortality and pushed on with scaling the never-ending stairs toward the top of the tower where she would face the darkness.
Or, at least, she hoped.
A hundred and two stories were a lot to climb, even for the fit and ready. Jennie paused on floor thirty to compose herself, aware that her heart rate had increased. She sent feelers out for spectral energy but found none. The thought crossed her mind that maybe she was wasting her time, and all the specters were already out in the battle.
She didn’t truly believe that was the case.
Jennie had to duck out of the way of a guard who opened the stairwell door a floor above her. She stayed stock-still and waited for the door to close before continuing her ascent.
By floor seventy-two, she began to feel the first tingles of intuition telling her there was something ahead. Whether it was simply traces of the spectral energy the loyalists had left behind, she didn’t know, but something was afoot, and she was the hound on the scent.
Jennie passed floors eighty, then ninety. With just three more floors to go, she could feel the energy without a shadow of a doubt. Not just any energy, either. Worthington’s energy.
Jennie worked laboriously to slow down and think about the final part of her approach, knowing how important surprise could be in determining the outcome of a battle.
She now stood outside the door to the final floor.
She resisted the urge to latch onto Worthington and pass straight through, opting instead for the old-fashioned route.
The good old door handle.
Times Square, New York City
Tanya watched with horror as the cop fired at Lupe.
She had been speaking to the police and offering to help, doing whatever she could to distract them. Luckily for her, the primary unit consisted of one woman and four men, which meant even in the strange situation that had unfolded for the NYPD, Tanya could still use her secret weapon.
Her ridiculously good looks.
She had spent a good few minutes trying to discuss with the officers the possibility that the fog could be some form of paranormal activity. They had, of course, immediately discredited her entire profession, but that didn’t mean they were immune to her charms.
Tanya could work with that—until the female officer, Samson barged in and took control. She’d forced the male officers’ attention back to the issue at hand, threatening Tanya with cuffs.
Sure, I’ll go down. If that’s what the paranormal world needs, I’ll sacrifice myself for them.
Tanya had been insistent, arguing until she was red in the face.
Several of her followers were on the cusp of receiving mace to the eyes as they did whatever they could to slow down the progression of the Hazmat cops strolling into the fog and putting themselves in harm’s way.
One of the cops caught sight of Lupe and figured he’d be the one to take action and bring him down.
Those gathered around recoiled at the report. The ring of metal on metal bounced around the square.
Lupe ducked, but he needn’t have worried.
The cop adjusted his aim and lined up another shot. Tanya sprinted across the gap and leaped on the cop, dragging him to the ground before he had a chance to fire ag
ain.
Tanya glanced at the balcony before the rest of the force came for her.
Handcuffs clamped around her wrists as she was dragged off the ground and to her feet. She didn’t take in all of what the officers were saying since her focus was on the scarred Latino who had climbed awkwardly over the balcony and dropped into the gas and out of harm’s way.
The gunshots created enough of a distraction that Baxter was able to get through Feng Mian’s shield. He pummeled a nearby specter with his wrench before firing several shots into the crowd.
There were specters everywhere he looked, and it was getting difficult to discern which were enemies and which were allies.
The loyalists’ fighting style had also begun to change. Now their fighters were putting up a real struggle, and several times, Baxter received blows that sent him reeling backward.
Specters began to show off their abilities, and Baxter witnessed several with increased speed, some with great strength, and Rico with his power of disappearing.
He even spied Rita in the distance, sitting atop someone’s shoulders and twirling her parasol. He wasn’t sure what was happening, but those within a thirty-foot radius of her appeared to be glowing brighter than the others as if she was somehow enhancing their abilities.
Feng Mian lowered the bulk of the shield and released the rest of the Spectral Plane at a shouted command from Baxter. Instead, he peered through the balcony railing and focused small blasts of protection on those who needed it. Soon small shields were popping up and disappearing, foiling the plans of the loyalists to eradicate their strongest fighters.
At one point, Baxter was knocked to the ground and a boot stamped on his face. Something crunched, and spectral blood trailed into his eyes. The next moment, several bullets fired, and a hand was helping him up.
“We need to get everyone out of here,” Carolyn shouted. “We don’t stand a chance.”
Baxter deflected a charge with a sharp elbow thrown behind him. “We can’t escape; there are too many.” He looked wildly around, eyes wide with alarm. With all of the excitement of what was happening around him, he’d completely lost sight of their most important asset. “Where’s Jennie? She’s meant to be our secret weapon.”
“She’s not so secret anymore,” Carolyn replied.
“Where is she?”
Carolyn avoided a punch and sent a swift kick into the crotch of her attacker. “At their HQ.”
“Where’s that?” Baxter was getting annoyed.
“Empire State,” Carolyn told him between breaths.
Baxter turned to Carolyn, momentarily distracted by the fact Jennie had gone solo. “What do you—”
A fist came out of the crowd and caught Baxter square in the face. He saw stars as he was knocked down to the ground, then he saw nothing because he was unconscious.
Carolyn stared down at Baxter, her mouth agape. The specter who had delivered the blow, a man who wouldn’t look out of place in a gorilla enclosure in the New York City Zoo, leered at her and staggered toward them.
An initial surge of fear flooded Carolyn as he approached. Ever since she had become a specter, all she had felt was fear. She gritted her teeth, and her nostrils flared as she tried to remember everything Feng Mian had taught her.
Focus your energy. Everyone has some kind of gift. Use it.
The man loomed over her and threw a punch at her face. A flash of blue light indicated that Feng Mian had spotted her and now protected her. She looked at the balcony and caught his eye.
King Kong followed her gaze and found Feng Mian’s. He grinned and opened his mouth to call out to the others, letting them know the position of the mysterious specter creating force fields.
Before he could utter a word, Carolyn’s emotion burst out of her. Not only had this buffoon knocked out one of their leaders, now he was coming for Feng Mian, a man who had been nothing but kind and generous to Carolyn. How many times would she allow people to tread on her and dictate her fate? How long would she remain a victim in this world before she stood on her own two feet and fought back?
It seemed the answer lay with her. She looked down in alarm at the glowing orb that appeared in the center of her spectral body. The world slowed down, and she felt waves of energy coming toward her.
She became aware of every specter in the square, their locations and the paths nearby that held the most and the fewest specters. In a surge of energy, she grabbed Baxter’s hand and raised him to his feet. She threw his arm around her as Feng Mian protected her from the barrage of attacks from Kong. Then impossibly, they were making their way through the crowd toward safety.
Baxter didn’t see any of this, of course.
The Empire State Building, New York City
The uppermost floor was cloaked in darkness. The room was silent.
Jennie crept in and left the door slightly ajar, not shutting it all the way for fear of alerting Worthington.
He was nearby. She could feel his energy.
Jennie blinked to make her eyes adjust to the darkness as she crossed the room. There were a series of rooms leading off from this one. She followed her senses toward the one brimming with spectral energy.
She reached the door. A large glass panel showed the room inside. She could see the silhouette of Worthington standing at the window, hands laced behind his back.
Jennie counted several specters gathered around the glowing body of the girl.
Jennie latched on to the nearest specter and passed through the door, all pretense of sneaking gone.
They knew she was coming, and here she was.
“WC.” Jennie’s greeting pierced the silence, sounding doubly loud when it bounced back at her from the bare walls.
Worthington turned slowly. “I wondered how long it would be until you found me,” he murmured, his voice cracked with fatigue. “Hide in plain sight; that’s something I learned from you. Where is more in plain sight than the one building which overlooks the entire city?”
Jennie fought back a gasp, surprised by how worn the beefeater looked. His eyes were dark, and deep shadows clung to his eyelids. The Worthington she’d thought she’d known was all but gone.
“What are you doing, Worthington?” Jennie asked, trying to hide the contempt in her voice.
A wave of revulsion washed over her as she thought back to his lies during the time they’d spent together. They had shared the same living space and bonded over being far from home.
“You know this isn’t good for anyone,” Jennie continued, reminding herself none of that had been real. “The queen is immoral and unjust, and you’re supporting the atrocities she has committed on her own people and specters the world over.”
Worthington snarled. “Shut your mouth!”
Jennie bared her teeth right back at him. “She’s abusing her power! She’s overthrown every monarch who has died and was due to inherit the Winter Court—”
“Paranormal court!” Worthington corrected sharply.
“Now she’s in the business of oppression?” Jennie demanded. “Of forcing people to commit to something beyond their will? Hiring goons and thugs and criminals to do her dirty work while the rest of the world turns a blind eye?”
“Queen Victoria is everything!” Worthington hollered back, spittle flying from his lips. “Her Majesty is the paranormal court. Without her, we’d be lost and broken, scattered specters living in anarchy.” He took a rattling breath. “I’ve devoted my death to serving at her side. I have been nothing but loyal. I have invested everything into ensuring she recognizes the sacrifices I have made for her.”
The specters gathered around the girl shuffled awkwardly, not sure where to look.
Worthington tried to calm himself down. His words became steady and measured. “Do you realize how close I was to the top? All we had to do was come into the city and contain a pest problem before going back home. It was simple. That’s all you and I needed to do. And now…”
Now it was Jennie’s turn to grow ang
ry. She latched onto Worthington and forced his body to straighten. “I will never excuse injustice. Don’t you get it? The queen is a liar! If anyone is a traitor to the Winter Court, it’s her. That war out there? That didn’t have to happen, but now specters and mortals are suffering because you couldn’t let it go.”
She released him and threw him back with his own energy.
“You could’ve let it go,” Jennie repeated. “We could’ve let this city live in peace; the rogue factions scattered. The Spectral Plane? They’re good people. Neutrals? They’re good people, too. The world doesn’t need an almighty dictator to govern it—in life or death.”
Jennie reached down and drew the Big Bitch from its holster. She lined it up perfectly with Worthington’s face.
“What good is that going to do?” Worthington sneered, his whole body deflating as if resigning to defeat. “You know as well as I do that I’ll recover. I’ll heal. You may shatter the glass behind me, but that’s all that’ll shatter. We’ll return. We’ll always return, and we will fight until we win.”
Jennie gave a slow nod. “You’re right.” She lowered the Big Bitch and placed it back in its holster. “You’re right. But you know one thing you can’t escape from?”
Jennie’s eyes narrowed as she held her hands a few inches apart and focused her efforts on the ritual she had spoken before.
Spectral power began to flow through her, absorbed from the specters in the room. She could feel the energy growing as words began to form at the very tip of her tongue, although this time, they were not half as clear as they had been before.
“Wh-what are you doing?” Worthington asked, retreating.
“Deus est…” Jennie began, pausing before the next line. “Er, et nomicon aiyorum? No. That’s not it.”
The words were hovering just out of her grasp. She closed her eyes and focused all of her effort on the last time she’d performed an exorcism, imagining the Messino Brothers in front of her. Trying to channel the emotion she had felt at the point the exorcism had flowed out of her.
Rogue, Renegade And Rebel (In Her Paranormal Majesty’s Secret Service Book 1) Page 39