The DarkWorld SoulTracker Series Box Set Vol II

by T. G. Ayer

  Dangerous forces were in play, and with the reappearance of the supposedly dead Agent Jones of Division 7, Kai was forced to hide out, in order to draw the assassins out of the shadows and so she could remain alive long enough to find out what in the hell was going on.

  Additionally, the public theory leaked courtesy of the FBI—that Kailin herself was some sort of scientific experiment on the loose—had resulted in overzealous reporters and hired mercenaries on her tail, the latter being of the abducting asshole kind.

  The—perhaps even more distasteful—alternative was that the collected contingents of assailants, abductors, and attempted murderers were targeting Kai because she was Ni’amh. So far though, it appeared they were only aware of Kai. If you counted the attempt of the Shadowman to kill me in NOLA, then perhaps they were aware of me, too.

  So she’d called in the troops to help her avoid these unseen, unknown variables, and to help understand who they were and why they were after her in particular.

  Helping her stay alive was a small side-benefit.

  Still, it wasn’t as if Kai was doing nothing while keeping her head down.

  And now, we were in the middle of a brilliant ruse, tricking Kai’s assailants into following a decoy. Fake-Kailin—aka Cassandra Monteith, the ShapeChanger—was currently posing as Kai in order to draw away the nefarious elements so we could sprint the panther to safety before Shadowmen or Division 7 agents got their hands on her.

  We’d barely materialized in the back of the minivan—situated outside Kelpie & Co, an awesome little ice-cream parlor a few blocks from the CPD—when a somewhat high-pitched voice came from the driver’s seat. “I was expecting you,” he said, giving a short laugh, startling both Kai and myself. “But just not like that.” The man’s voice was filled with nervous amusement, and yet his tone echoed the edginess that had haunted me for the last hour or so.

  My shifter friend blinked and glanced toward the cop who was her assigned driver, her green feline eyes glowing in the darkened interior of the van. “Sorry,” Kai said, waving at him in greeting and apology. “You ready to leave?” she asked, clearly not wanting to waste time on chatting, or on hanging about any longer than was required.

  I understood her need to keep moving. Like me, she was undoubtedly questioning how truly loyal this man was to Chief Murdoch. Betrayal seemed to be quite fashionable these days.

  Especially among the creatures of the DarkWorld.

  And though Chief Murdoch might be all-too-human, he was still neck deep in the supernatural world—his MindMage wife notwithstanding. The Chief had helped Kai from the start of her troubles, and though he was overstepping his human–and not to mention his legal—authority, he’d been all too happy to instigate the plan to get our favorite alpha shifter to safety.

  “Ready when you are, ma’am,” the cop replied, turning to tug at his seatbelt.

  As the belt clicked, I released Kai’s arm, a ripple of discomfort, mingled with concern, riding a wave through my body. I’d held onto her as though she were about to disappear—but who could blame me for being worried?

  Not worried, Mel. Afraid. Be honest.

  So I was afraid, too. Considering I had a crapload of things to be worried about, main point of concern being a certain djinn who was imprisoned in his palace back in Mithras.

  Saleem was waiting for the team to gather and come to extract him. And Kai was part of that team, so she’d damned well better remain breathing.

  Now, Kai glanced back at me, seemingly oblivious to my inner turmoil. “Thanks, Mel,” she said, her voice low now. She looked like she wanted to say something more, but I evaded her eyes—which were usually all-too observant—and retrieved a notebook and pen from my jacket pocket.

  Holding them out to Kai, I said, “If you want to send me a message, just write it here. Don’t use your mobile phone, just in case.”

  The notepad—an ingenious trick I’d learned from Samuel—was the best way I knew how to circumvent any cameras or listening devices discovering our communication. Hopefully, they would help when Kai needed updates—because we all knew how the alpha shifter loved to remain on top of things.

  “Thanks, Mel,” Kai said, her head bobbing although her expression seemed somewhat distracted.

  That I could totally understand.

  Her world had fallen apart around her.

  We’d all been through the wringer these last few months, and I was beginning to wonder when it would all end. The landscape kept shifting, betrayal seemed to lurk around every corner, and it almost felt as if the very air held a warning that something was about to happen, something huge.

  If it had anything to do with the Ni’amh, the prophesied five who would save the world—no pressure or anything—then I wouldn’t be in the least bit surprised. That mysterious letter had turned up with its strong prediction, but with a very disappointing lack of a manual, or even a mentor to tell us what was required of us.

  It often made me wonder if it were all just a joke.

  Now, all I wanted to tell Kai was that everything would be okay, and that she didn’t have to worry. But—because I was merely an astral projector and jumper and not a seer—I merely said, “Pleasure. Just make sure you stay safe.”

  I hesitated, Saleem’s face hovering in front of my vision. Kai had to back me up, so for Saleem’s sake as well as mine, she’d better be okay.

  I took a ragged breath and said, “I need you to help me with Saleem.” I winked, trying to make things a little less tense, a little less demanding than the way the words had come out sounding. Then I took a step away from Kai, readying myself for the jump.

  She grinned, her eyes sparkling at the mention of Saleem. “I will. Don’t worry. I’m going to be right beside you when we go bring home the djinn,” she assured me, her tone serious now as her amusement faded to be replaced by worry and fear for Saleem.

  I knew I could trust her to help me, to help Saleem, which was such a relief. Kai had a history with the djinn anyway, they’d been friends even before I’d met him, so I knew that she, along with Logan, would also be invested in making sure Saleem remained alive and breathing.

  Still, I wasn’t sure how much longer I was going to be able to wait before I lost it and ran off to Mithras without backup. Which would probably be a very bad thing to do.

  “Gonna hold you to it,” I said, giving Kai a reassuring smile. Then, with a quick wave, I jumped away from the minivan, keeping my fingers mentally crossed that the mission would go as planned.

  Chapter 2

  I materialized in the foyer of the Elite HQ which was a small residential home outside of the city. It seemed that High Councilmen Carter and Horner had chosen a quieter location for the supernatural intelligence agency recently set up by the Supreme High Council in the wake of Omega’s spectacular fall from grace.

  The front hall was all dark polished wood floors and walls painted in muted tones and covered in an array of artwork. I’d barely turned around to scan the reception area for Gerda, the Level 1 MindMage who manned the front desk, when Supreme High Councilman David Horner came hurrying out from the front room just off the entry hall, tugging at the knot of his gray tie.

  The fine steely-gray tone fabric of his three-piece suit glinted as he strode toward me. “Agent Morgan,” the man waved a brisk hand at me, “you’re up the stairs, first door on the left.” Horner was shorter and rounder than my own handler, Michael Carter, but he was certainly no less efficient.

  “Thank you, sir.” I wasn’t sure what else to say to him, aware that he wasn’t at all familiar with my particular brand of snark. Carter had tolerated me in all our interactions and had seemed to almost have a certain fondness for me; a fatherly figure of sorts.

  Horner, on the other hand, was an unknown quantity.

  So, I gave the man a grateful smile and a short nod, then swiveled on my heel and headed for the staircase. My mind was filled with possibilities, for Kai, for how things would go with Cassie, for Saleem and his sit
uation, for how long he was going to have to wait and whether or not I was going to pull off his rescue mission and succeed.

  Thoughts of Ari and Samuel hovered on the edge of my awareness as I hurried up the carpeted stairs, fingers trailing the smooth dark wood of the banister. My heels echoed hollowly on the landing, and I hung a left, then entered the room allocated to me.

  I’d barely stepped inside when Horner’s deep baritone echoed from behind me, “Oh, Agent Morgan?”

  I spun around, one hand clutching my satchel, the other reaching for my boot where one of my trusty Persian daggers was hidden.

  Horner’s lips turned up in an apologetic smile as he held out a hand. “My apologies, my dear. I didn’t mean to startle you.” His smile, though calming, held an edge to it that I couldn’t yet define, as though he’d hardened his resolve, as though he had an agenda which he’d not allow anyone to cross. But then, the steel in his gaze evaporated and his golden brown eyes cleared to a bright honey, and the tension in the air between us faded away.

  “It’s all right, sir. I don’t scare that easily,” I said with a smile, lying through my teeth. For some reason, his voice had surprised me, and I wasn’t usually so jumpy. Either that, or the man put me more on edge than I’d yet admitted.

  Get a grip, Mel.

  Horner smiled and nodded, his expression telling me that he’d seen right through my lie, but he was classy enough not to point it out. “I’ve given instructions to the teams, and the assistants, within the building that you are not to be disturbed. But, if you should need assistance, there is the internal phone, and the bell,” he said with what struck me was a very sneaky smile.

  “The bell?” I asked, my brow creasing slightly as I considered the reasons I’d need a bell.

  Horner pointed to the nightstand. “In case there is an interference of energy, or for some reason, you are unable to access the telephone, the bell is solid iron, resistant to most magic so even a dulling spell can do nothing to stop that sound. And I can assure you, it is terribly loud.”

  He put his hands behind his back, a smug smile widening on his face as he leaned forward onto his toes then leaned back again. He seemed to be holding back a spirit that was nothing like the outward aura he revealed.

  And for a brief moment, as I blinked, and in that microsecond when I was looking but not really seeing, I caught a flickering of Horner in a different form, one more regal, more powerful than the almost diminutive man before me who now appeared more sprightly than he’d been during our previous interactions.

  I had to consider if the flighty changes of personality were normal for him, and I made a note to ask Kai when next I saw her.

  For now, I composed myself and forced a relaxed grin onto my face as I focused on his pride regarding the special iron bell. “Sounds good to me.” Though my words were neutral, I was damned impressed. I was going to have to check if I could take the bell with me—or at the very least order one in for myself.

  Horner smiled and gave a low nod, a sort of almost-bow. His suit emitting a light susurration as he straightened and left the room. He closed the door gently behind him, the lock emitting a low click that sounded a little too final to my ears, making me want to get up and rush to check that he hadn’t imprisoned me inside the room.

  I took a slow breath and shoved away my ridiculous musings as I scanned the room. Standard issue lodgings for the Elite Agency, rooms such as this one were provided to agents returning from missions who needed to rest or recuperate, or merely as a place to stop and freshen up before heading out again on the next assignment.

  As expected, a double bed with a high carved-wood headboard stood against the right-hand wall, with a half-open door in the far corner opening into the bathroom. To my left, a narrow table had been set up along the wall, bearing coffee sitting on a warming plate, steam rising from the spout, and an array of sandwiches and pastries. Six bottles of water were arranged on the end of the table beside a tea-station complete with kettle, a jar of loose tea-leaves, sugar, and milk.

  I pursed my lips and nodded at the room and all it provided, then moved over to the bed and sat against the headboard. I removed my phone from my jeans pocket and sent two texts: one to Drake to give him and Steph an update on the mission, and the second to Natasha to also keep her in the know. It paid to have a white witch on your side.

  I set the phone on the nightstand, plumped up a few pillows and supported my spine with them. Then I leaned back and let out a long breath.

  Usually, I’d sink into a sofa or a chair, but though the room provided both, I chose the bed. With no idea how long this mission would take, I decided a relaxed position was my wisest choice.

  I closed my eyes, focused on my breathing, and accessed the astral plane.

  Chapter 3

  I honed in on the vibrations deep within my solar plexus, and sank into the pulsing thread of energy, gently opening my eyes using my ethereal vision.

  The astral plane held its own dangers, and it paid for any traveler, no matter how powerful, to ensure they have a solid hold on a feedback thread.

  When I tracked a person, I would use one of their possessions, something that could link me to the feedback energy of my target. More often than not, I needed something biological—preferably blood—but hair was also a good vessel for a person’s life-thread. The energy a soul emitted remained attached to the physical form, long past death, and it was the feedback of the thread that guided me as I searched the astral plane.

  But today, I was traveling, and likely projecting, using my own life-thread feedback. As long I maintained a solid hold on my link, I’d be safe no matter what. Which was why I drew a magical link tether around my connection to my life-thread. With thoughts of Samuel who’d been lost in the astral plane, projecting his essence to planes I was as yet ignorant of, I was all too aware of how easily that link could be broken. He’d taught me a long time ago how to command the magical elements within the astral plane, and to form a solid, binding ether.

  Once the magic was secure, I surged up along the energy that was my essence, and slid into the astral plane. I ignored the pulsing light show that was the ethereal dimension, filled with energies of sensations, light and electricity, and sped toward the access point in the Veil that would lead me to the Chicago PD precinct where Fake-Kailin—otherwise known as Cassandra Monteith—was waiting to be taken away to a maximum security women’s prison.

  Good thing I’d chosen that moment to check on Cassie because, just as I slipped into Kai’s holding room, I sensed a concentration of energies outside the door.

  I sank deeper into the Chief’s fancy interrogation room to find the ShapeChanger pacing up and down on the carpeted floor, the loosely braided dark hair down her back uncannily Kai-like.

  So weird seeing Kai and knowing it was Cassie; I was still wrapping my head around it, that’s for sure.

  Just as I was about to give her the heads up on incoming, the door opened—without the courtesy of a knock. Two police officers entered, expressions so serious that I was almost convinced they knew nothing about the whole charade.

  Chief Murdoch following them inside, tugging on his unbuttoned jacket in what was his habit; a failed attempt at masking the rounded belly he was seemingly unable to get rid of. His expression was dark and severe, his brow knitted so severely that his bushy eyebrows converged, one long furry black caterpillar lounging above his eyes. He too was keeping up the act.

  Despite the trickle of trepidation that ran through me at what Cassie could be facing in her role as the decoy, I couldn’t help chuckling. Understandable, given that I was faced with the difficult decision on which looked more threatening—the Chief’s unibrow-caterpillar or his thick mustache-caterpillar.

  I struggled to focus as I watched the chief, my heart warm with a fondness for the large man who’d had my back since I was twelve. For a human, the Chief seemed to possess the kind of power that spanned races, agencies, and even planes.

  Despite the st
ern, almost threatening persona he displayed to his subordinates, I’d found the man to have a heart of gold, and I found it heart-warming the way he appeared to care for Kai.

  I was so glad she had him in her corner.

  Although, given that she worked for the Elite Agency herself, she likely had any number of strings that would be pulled on her behalf if need be.

  Still, the plan had to go ahead as discussed, too many variables in a still-unknown situation.

  I hovered in the corner of the room, watching as the two uniformed cops prepared Fake-Kai for transport, grinding out stern instructions and clamping on handcuffs—from which I was pretty certain she knew how to escape when the time came.

  Once ready, Fake-Kai was led out of the interrogation room and frog-marched through the precinct as dozens of heads turned to watch her departure. A range of emotions flickered on their faces, and for the first time, I was privy to what Kai faced on a regular basis.

  Though her life as a shifter was lived in the shadows, her public human persona appeared not as popular as I would have expected. Saleem had mentioned that he, along with Logan, both received regular doses of contempt from the policemen that worked with agents from Sentinel and Omega, and now the Elite, often placed within the various law-enforcement departments in order to foster interdepartmental relations. The agents functioned under the mysterious banner of a black-site department of the FBI, though more often than not they were seen only as interlopers.

  And it seemed Kai was on the receiving end of the same attitude.

  As I watched the detectives and officers stare at Fake-Kai as she headed toward the exit, the Chief following closely, I considered more variables to an already complicated situation. There were so many forces at play that it was often hard to identify who was supernatural and who wasn’t.