by Gaja J. Kos
And hadn’t left it.
No. I spun in a circle. The prick hadn’t vanished.
Blocking everything was a bitch with the abundance of blood and magic tainting the air, but my determination provided the anchor I needed. As I got rid of the clutter, that ghostly path became a tangible, clear thing. A cruel smile touched my lips.
I stalked across the room to the bookcases stocked with arcane literature I was pretty certain had provided Jonas with the symbols he’d carved into the victims’ chests. His scent pooled by the second one from the left, as if he’d waited for a short time before moving on.
I didn’t have the luxury to follow exactly in his footsteps.
Ripping the bookcase right off its hinges, I cast it aside, then blasted the door it had been concealing with physical strength and demon fire alike. A dark mist rolled towards my feet. Not demonic shadows, but something foul.
Jonas’s heartbeat, at least, gave me some measure of comfort as I prowled down the dim corridor.
The fucker wasn’t dead yet.
Through the accumulating mist, the soft chant now lapping against my ears…
He wouldn’t remain alive for long, either, unless I got to him in time.
Light spilled into the corridor from beyond the threshold, but with every new step I took, the urge to turn around intensified. Gritting my teeth, I pushed forward. Nausea raked through me, and my legs shivered as I went against the magic’s wishes.
The bastard had thrown up a monster of a repellent ward. Worse even than what Lena and I had braved at Svinimir’s residence this winter. But unlike Svinimir’s barrier, this one had been constructed in haste. It didn’t require weaving a passage for me to get through.
Another step.
If I could just hold on to my will…
Another.
I could get through.
Bile splashed at the back of my throat, and I forced myself to take another step.
This was no different than a Leshy illusion.
I braced my hand against the wall, my weak knees nearly giving way under my weight.
No different than a strong Leshy illusion.
The ward couldn’t hurt me. Not truly. But it could fuck up my body through its own responses.
And right now—I grunted as pain sliced its talons down my chest—it was doing a damn fine job.
Through the blurry sheen of tears, I spied Jonas kneeling in the middle of the chamber. His gaze briefly landed on me, but I got the distinct impression he wasn’t truly seeing me. A fact he confirmed when he threw his head back as if in the throes of passion, my struggling self forgotten.
I forced my foot forward again.
Then the other.
Even if the damn ward turned my guts inside out, I would get to the asshole and—
A blade glinted in Jonas’s hand.
He raised it above himself, his chant becoming a dark, tumultuous song invoking the god Zirnitra.
Shit, shit, shit.
The sight gave me a burst of strength that transported me a good distance forward, but even as I hurtled my failing body at the threshold, Jonas Obst brought the blade to his neck.
25
Rage unlike anything I’d ever experienced rocked my body.
Jonas couldn’t sacrifice himself to his dark god. He couldn’t fucking die and take the last piece of evidence we had along with his wretched life.
I flung my hand out, a bolt of vibrant blue leaving my palm.
The first hint of blood touched the air—
Then a scream shattered the oppressive tension.
I stumbled over the threshold right as the coppery scent overpowered the room. Only its source wasn’t Jonas’s neck, but the stump of his arm, pumping out blood where my fire had taken his hand off at the wrist.
Ripped it off, more like it.
I hadn’t controlled the power enough to cauterize the wound.
Ignoring the thousands of aches plaguing my body even now when I’d left the ward behind, I kicked the severed hand and knife farther away, then threw myself on the asshole. With a quick surge of demon fire, I sealed his wound. Jonas thrashed beneath me, but his magic spiked—
I grabbed Lena’s device from my belt and slapped it on his chest.
The asshole stilled.
Containment magic flowed across my hands and thighs as I continued to straddle him, unable to let go quite yet. Not for lack of faith in Lena’s mag-tech, though.
It was seeing the realization that his game was up realign the fuckhole’s features that kept me in place. I savored every nuance that washed across his features. Tasted the damn responses on my tongue.
Jonas hadn’t only failed setting Isa up.
Without his sacrifice, his life meant nothing.
And just because he deserved it, I brought my face within inches of his and crooned. “I think I’ll enjoy visiting you in ICRA’s airtight little cell.”
By the time ICRA rolled onto the scene, Ilya and his men made themselves scarce. They’d helped round up the smattering of survivors, which left me and the demons from my court who had every legal right to assist in this takedown to greet ICRA like victors showing off their conquered army.
Senior Agent Thode led a group of agents into the building, reinforced handcuffs dangling from his belt. For me, I suspected.
But whatever his intentions had been before he caught sight of our display, the Perelesnyk exhibited a clear head.
He halted his people with a raised hand. “Explain, Freundenberger.”
I did so with pleasure.
After I was done telling Thode all about Jonas Obst’s and Benedikt Weser’s kills, how all of it had been an organized attempt to frame Isa, my fellow demons chimed in on the events that had taken place since I’d sought out Alin’s assistance. Thode didn’t appear too pleased by it all, though whether it was the loopholes I’d used to my advantage or how badly ICRA had fucked up by chasing the wrong person, was anyone’s guess.
His phone rang just as I handed over a magically gagged and bound Jonas.
“Yes?” Thode’s hard gaze flicked to me. “Understood.”
A foreboding sense tingled down my spine. Andrei, probably sensing my discomfort, shifted a little closer, the subtle demonic power his body was exuding a soothing presence I was really damn grateful for.
Thode put his phone away. “Home office wants you in straight away, Freundenberger.”
“Yes, sir.” I turned to my demons. “Are you okay wrapping things up on your own?”
Not that I had much wriggle room. Getting my ass from Frankfurt to Munich would take time I was certain would not please the top dogs even with the use of particle form shaving off the extra hours I’d have wasted at the airport otherwise.
“We can handle it,” Andrei assured me.
I nodded then strode past Thode, past his agents who seemed reluctant to move aside. I stuffed down the snort wanting to escape. Nothing like some good old-fashioned posturing.
ICRA vehicles dominated the spacious lot pooling around the building, a few straggling agents checking the perimeter. I cleared the premises, then kept on walking until I was sure no supe senses could pick up on what I was about to do. I veered into a shadowy backstreet sandwiched between a short line of rundown office buildings.
Though my body had regenerated somewhat, I eased myself to the ground and braced my back against the cool brick wall before I closed my eyes. Afanasiy’s image came to me like an old friend, vibrant and alive—
“Lotte…”
My name was a whisper on his lips.
I opened my eyes just in time to see the handsome demon kneel before me, his gaze scanning my ragged state as if he could see right down to the damn near depleted core.
“Ilya relayed what transpired,” he said before I could even open my mouth.
“Good.” At least that spared me a second recap. “I just received orders to return to Munich. Once I’m there, you can bring Isa—”
“She’s already there.”
>
“What?” I pushed to my feet. Reddish brick chipped and crumbled where my fingers dug into it. “What do you mean she’s there?”
Afanasiy rose to his full height. A hint of remorse darkened his violet eyes. “Once Ilya told us of your success, Isa insisted I take her in.”
“Shit.”
I tugged on the hair band to loosen my braid then raked my hand through the matted strands. A part of me wanted to chew the fuck out of Afanasiy for obeying Isa, yet at the same time, I understood where she was coming from.
We’d done the grunt work, delivered the evidence, the damn killer. But this wasn’t where her story ended.
ICRA needed to hear her voice.
But since we still didn’t know who, if anyone, at the Agency was involved with Kauer… Well, to say I was uneasy with Isa walking in there alone would be a gross understatement.
“All right.” I blew out a breath and flicked a sticky hair off my fingers. “I guess I need to make the trip to Munich that much faster, then.”
My particles buzzed in preparation for the shift, but Afanasiy’s warm touch on my shoulder kept me corporeal.
“Let me take you, kāros.” His gaze bored into mine. “Let me do this for you.”
I glanced down at my blood-smeared boots.
The thought of seeing Afanasiy’s lair, however briefly, still sent a pang of something I did not want to feel right now through me. Something that made me want to decline his offer. But, damn it… Hopping into the Shadow World, then directly to Munich, meant I still had the chance to do damage control.
I met Afanasiy’s gaze. “Fine.”
As his power swept through me, all I could do was hope that the minutes I’d wasted here hadn’t already sealed Isa’s fate.
26
Sweat leaked from me in embarrassing, stinky amounts as I stood in the painfully pristine office.
Then again, I was willing to bet that anyone would squirm under the hard gaze of the top fucking brass of the Munich office. The man who was above even Superintendent General Gabler.
I flicked a quick look in Isa’s direction.
Well, anyone but her, apparently.
Though Isa’s shoulders and spine were a touch straighter than normal, hinting that maybe, just maybe, things weren’t quite so calm beneath her icy facade.
Inspector General Balsinger stared us both down. Like many of ICRA’s leading persons, the man was a vampire—one old enough that his ancient essence basically rolled off him, feeding my unease in a way no other supe ever had. Fucking scary, that’s what he was. A predator’s predator.
His unnatural stillness continued as I struggled to rein in my too-audible breaths. Even Isa’s heartbeat, while steady, thudded louder through the space than I’d ever heard.
“Isa Vogt,” Balsinger said at last, his long fingers laced and resting on the edge of his massive, immaculate desk. “The capture of Jonas Obst and the evidence provided by Agent Freundenberger is irrefutable. ICRA will launch a more thorough investigation in the days to come, but even at this point, I can say that you have been cleared of all charges. However”—he amped up the wattage on that terrifying gaze—“I cannot ignore that you have disobeyed direct orders by investigating Kauer on your own after being sent undercover. More so, your reckless, selfish actions have jeopardized two operations.”
Shit. Of course.
Not only had her poking around tipped Kauer off and threw a wrench in the general Kauer investigation that had been underway for months now—regardless of how positive this outcome had turned out to be—she had basically thrown her undercover stint under the bus.
“ICRA does not stand for its agents going rogue,” Balsinger went on, “which leaves me no choice but to demote your status to agent and suspend you for a minimum of six months. We will review your performance once more then, as well as take into consideration how you will behave in this timeframe. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
I had to give it to Isa—she carried herself well. Not a single whiff of her emotions escaped the stoic facade she’d put on.
The same, unfortunately, did not hold true for me.
My already sweaty armpits became drenched when Balsinger turned the full weight of his attention on me, and the dry, metallic taste in my mouth only made me that much more aware of how thoroughly I was failing at holding my ground.
How much I feared his verdict for the newbie agent who had done precisely what he said ICRA didn’t tolerate.
Gone rogue.
I’d never thought I’d say this, but I didn’t want to give up my job here. Not just because there was a fair chance ICRA would do more than just fire me, but because I couldn’t walk away. Not now that I finally got a taste for delivering justice. For making sure the world was at least moderately safer.
The wolf in me couldn’t give that up.
“Agent Freundenberger.” Balsinger rose, amplifying the effect of just how small and insignificant I was. “Much like your mentor,”—he briefly slid his gaze to Isa—“you have exhibited disrespect towards your superiors, a blatant disregard for the rules,”—my stomach plummeted—“but also exceptional instinct and thinking.”
What?
The room spun, and I forced myself to take a breath.
“Instead of blindly accepting it, you questioned the evidence presented, investigated even the smallest discrepancies, and with your hard work, established not only the innocence of a person we were all too willing to convict, but captured the true criminals behind the murders.” He ran a hand down the front of his jacket, then extended it across the desk. “For this, I congratulate you. And promote you.”
I didn’t even think about slipping my sweaty hand into his. My body worked on autopilot as my mind bent itself backwards to process just what Balsinger had said.
Promote.
Balsinger had promoted me.
“Congratulations, Senior Agent Freundenberger.” He withdrew his hand. “Effective immediately, I am assigning you to the Kauer case. All relevant files will be waiting for you tomorrow in your new office on the eleventh floor.” His attention swept to Isa, then back to me. “That will be all.”
Isa moved first. Her back ramrod straight, she headed for the door, but my feet refused to peel off the floor.
I cleared my throat. “Sir…”
Isa hesitated by the threshold, her uncertainty a tangible thing that crashed into my back.
Balsinger’s gaze all but skewered me. “Yes?”
“I thank you for placing your faith in my abilities. I will do everything in my power to capture Kauer and put a stop to his widespread organization.” Shit, I sounded like a damn Miss Werewolf contestant. “Which is why I would like to put in a request with you.”
“And what might that request be, Senior Agent Freundenberger?”
The way he said my title stirred awareness of just how easily I could lose it, too.
Precisely his intent.
Gods, I had no idea how my sister had done this when it was her freshly promoted ass, requesting to keep Demyan on her team when the Superintendent General had been ready to boot him from the Agency.
I steeled myself as much as I could and said, “I would like you to lift Agent Vogt’s suspension.”
Isa sucked in a sharp breath, and Balsinger cut a chilling look in her direction before addressing me. “I suspect you have a good reason behind this request?”
“I do, sir.” I started to brush my hands against my pants but caught myself just in time. “Agent Vogt came closer to Kauer than anyone before. I fear that losing her service for six months would put us at a grave disadvantage. Yes, she went rogue, but no one can deny her resourcefulness. She managed to navigate channels ICRA doesn’t have access to. Channels and contacts we desperately need.” I squared my shoulders, my voice steadier now. “Allow her to work under me, sir.”
Balsinger dragged his gaze to Isa with calculated slowness. He studied her in silence for what felt like minutes, and al
l the while, his ancient eyes burned with whatever thoughts churned in his mind.
“Three months.” He turned to me. “Agent Vogt will be suspended for three months, after which she can join your team.”
“Thank—”
“But if she proves to be a liability, Senior Agent Freundenberger, you will be held accountable for her actions.”
His ominous tone should have sent me quivering in a corner, but all I could think about was that I’d done it.
So I dipped my chin and plastered my most professional expression on my face. “I understand, sir.”
Isa decided to do the wise thing and get out of Germany for the duration of her suspension. Though I seriously doubted she would remain completely idle, I believed some time away would do her heaps of good. Besides, I planned to work her mercilessly once she got back—something I might have teased her with when we went out for drinks the previous night after my shift.
The vampire, in turn, promised to spam my mailbox with postcards depicting idyllic beaches from all over the world she planned to visit.
I promised to stick them up on my fridge.
With Isa now somewhere over the Atlantic and me with two days off to spare before I had to navigate the precarious path between my legal investigation and looking into ICRA on the side, I threw on one of my nicer sundresses, slipped on a pair of fashionable sandals I’d worn maybe twice before, and headed out into Munich’s early evening embrace. No demons stalked me as I strolled down the still-hot but gradually cooling sidewalks, no Raya popping up to harass a member of Alin’s court.
Though my evening was far from demon-free.
Standing by the biergarten’s entrance and gazing into the lowering sun that painted his skin golden, Afanasiy looked glorious. His violet gaze fell on me as I approached, and he swept an appreciative look down my outfit.
Everything within me warmed.
“Hi.” I pressed a kiss to his cheek, maybe, just maybe inhaling some of his intoxicating scent.
“You look incredible, kāros,” he murmured into my skin.
I drew back and smiled. “As do you.”