Soulless at Sunset

by Deanna Chase

  “They would have if Allcot’s been experimenting again,” I said.

  And when I say experimenting, I mean running clinical drug tests on shifters. The Cryrique was actively developing healing drugs for all types of paranormals as well as dabbling in recreational concoctions. And while healing drugs might seem noble on the surface, their testing methods weren’t one hundred percent ethical. It was always all about profits when it came to the Cryrique. It didn’t matter to the pack that the shifters in question had been willing participants. In the pack’s eyes, their members had been exploited.

  “I haven’t heard any rumors of that.” Dax frowned. “In fact, I haven’t heard any rumors of anything for a few weeks.” He rubbed a hand over his forehead. “Fuck.”

  Fuck was right. There was always, always, something going on with the pack. If he hadn’t heard anything, they’d cut him off and were intentionally keeping him in the dark. “Dax, you have to go now. Get back to the pack and find out if they know anything about Wil, Talisen, or Pandora.”

  “Do you need backup?” Halston asked him.

  Dax shrugged. “I can probably handle it on my own, but backup is always a plus.” His gaze landed on me, one eyebrow raised in question.

  “I can’t do it.” I flopped down into one of the metal chairs the director kept around to remind us we shouldn’t be sitting on the job, and Link settled at my feet. “They’ll never talk if they think I’m sniffing around.” I didn’t have the best reputation with the rogue-shifter population. Ever since I kicked their asses and helped Allcot escape their hostage games, I’d been labeled a vamp sympathizer. The sad part of their hasty judgment was that if the situation had been reversed and the vamps had been holding a shifter hostage, I would’ve done the same for them. But they only saw what they wanted to see.

  “She’s right. I’ll take Sebastian with me,” Dax said.

  Halston nodded and once again picked up the phone, this time to call the shifter in question.

  Dax moved to stand in front of me. “Are you doing all right?”

  I stood and let out a strangled laugh. “Me? What about you? Allcot did his best to choke the life out of you.”

  He shook his head. “No, he didn’t. He just wanted to hurt me.” Dax lifted his arm and nodded to his wrist. The skin was bruised purple, but judging by the fact that he was able to move it, his bones had already healed. Ultrafast healing was quite the perk of being a shifter. It also meant other supernaturals never hesitated to snap a shifter’s bones. It caused the maximum amount of pain and didn’t result in any permanent damage. At least not physically. “If he’d wanted me dead,” Dax continued, “you’d be calling the coroner right about now. If he’d been serious, not one of us could’ve stopped him.”

  “You’re right,” I said, a tiny bit of tension draining from my shoulders. “I’ve just never seen Allcot like that before. It seemed as if he’d legitimately lost his mind. I guess I thought he wasn’t thinking clearly.”

  “He wasn’t. That’s what happens to us poor bastards when our girls are in danger.” He reached up and gently brushed a lock of hair out of my eyes. Then he bent down and pressed a gentle kiss on my forehead.

  On the surface, the gesture was sweet, chaste even. But my body responded instantly to his touch, and I had to stop myself from swaying into him, from wrapping my arms around him and burying my face in his chest right there in front of our boss.

  No, Phoebe, I chastised myself. There was a reason I’d put the brakes on the physical side of our relationship. Dax was a damned good partner, and I didn’t want to ruin it with romantic entanglements. So much for that. He’d just implied I was his girl with that last statement, and my heart had fluttered like a lovesick teenager’s.

  I leaned back, putting distance between us, and gave him a hint of a smile. “Try not to get your ass kicked again, okay?”

  He chuckled. “I’ll do my best.”

  Halston replaced the phone on the base, cleared her throat, and stared at us with disapproval. “Marrok, please keep it professional. Kilsen is your partner, not your girlfriend.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, his lips twitching with amusement as he kept his gaze trained on me.

  Halston’s tone turned clipped as she added, “Sebastian will meet you in the lobby in five minutes.”

  This time he glanced over at the director, giving no indication he was bothered by her chastisement. “What do you want Phoebe to do?”

  “Kilsen will interview Allcot after the tranquilizer wears off.”

  “Sounds… frustrating,” Dax said, giving me a look of sympathy. “Try not to stake his ass before he gives you something good to work with.” Then he winked and walked out of the office.

  “That relationship will eventually bring you both down,” Halston said.

  I lifted my chin in defiance. “There is no relationship.”

  The director snorted. “Right.” When I didn’t respond, she pressed her lips into a thin line and shook her head. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  Ignoring her advice, I asked, “Why did you keep ordering me to stop talking to Allcot?”

  Her head snapped up and she pierced me with her dark gaze. “All matters that pertain to the Crimson Valley wolves are classified. You know that. We don’t discuss Void business with anyone, especially not Eadric Allcot.”

  I flinched at her sharp tone but stood my ground. “I know that. But Willow and Talisen are missing, and so is Pandora. Don’t you think those two things are related?”

  Halston let out a long sigh and sank into her chair, leaning back as she studied me. “Of course they are related. But do you honestly think Allcot is going to work with the Void in good faith?”

  I lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. “He might. This is Pandora we’re talking about.”

  The director’s eyes narrowed, then she wrinkled her nose in distaste. “How can you be such a skilled witch and yet be so naïve?”

  Anger prickled down my spine, and I clenched my fists in an effort to keep from lashing out at her. I knew better than anyone what Eadric Allcot was capable of. Willow had been tangled up in his bullshit for the past two years, and I’d been the one right there helping her through it all.

  “I can see I touched a nerve,” Halston said conversationally. “You think you know how to handle him, don’t you?”

  “I didn’t say that,” I said, refusing to take her bait.

  “You didn’t have to.” She snorted a chuckle. “Just remember, there is no one more manipulative than Allcot. No one. And if you choose to trust him, sooner or later you’ll get burned.”

  “Message received.”

  She stared at me for a long moment then said, “All of your other cases have been reassigned. Your sole duty now is to find Rhoswen and bring her home. Understood?”

  “What resources do I have?” I asked just to judge how serious she was taking Willow’s disappearance. Willow had been an agent of the Void at one time, but she wasn’t any longer. Sometimes agents who left the organization were hung out to dry when shit went down.

  Halston’s lips formed a thin, grim line. “Whatever it takes. With her ability, it’s far too dangerous for the Void if she falls into the wrong hands.”

  Far too dangerous for the Void. Of course that was the reason I was being given full support. It didn’t matter that Willow’s life was in danger. Or that she’d been a valued member of the Void. Or that she was a fae in the hands of some random vampire or shifter. No, it mattered that she had the ability to turn vampires into daywalkers, and the Void wanted to keep that little secret tightly under wraps. Typical. But all that mattered was I had the full weight of the Void behind me. “Thank you,” I said and signaled for Link to follow me. “I’ll be in the research center until Allcot regains consciousness.”

  The director nodded, and as Link and I left, I was already texting my contacts back at the Cryrique compound.

  8

  Dax pulled his ten-year-old Trooper onto the d
irt road that led to a large white plantation home. The old house was off of River Road, south of New Orleans, and surrounded by moss-draped oak trees. He eyed the dozen beat-up cars parked out front and knew something was going down.

  “Looks like we’re in for an interesting evening,” Sebastian said, tapping his thigh in a steady beat.

  The tension rolling off him had Dax itching to escape the truck. Both of them were wired, and if they kept feeding off each other’s energy, neither one of them was going to be able to play it cool with the rest of the pack.

  Dax blew out a breath as he pulled the Trooper to a stop and eyed the large plantation. Light glowed from all the windows, and two shifters were stationed out front.

  Steeling himself, ready for anything, even the possibility that the pack had abducted the two fae, he climbed out of the Trooper and moved with purpose up the walk, Sebastian right behind him.

  “Marrok. No one said you’d be here.” A shifter Dax knew only as Stone eyed him.

  “I must’ve forgotten to RSVP,” Dax said dryly, not slowing down as he climbed the front steps.

  “Hold up. Who’s the pretty boy?” Stone jerked his head toward Sebastian. “Your new boyfriend?”

  “Sounds like you need a date, Stone.” Dax said. “Want me to set you two up?”

  Sebastian let out a low growl, making it clear to them both he didn’t appreciate the exchange.

  “Relax, pretty boy. I’m already taken,” Stone said as he let out a short laugh and opened the door for them, waving them in. “Good luck in there.”

  Dax frowned, wondering why the hell they’d need luck but not asking. He’d find out soon enough. He walked through the entrance and was surprised to hear only a faint murmur from somewhere in the back of the house. When a dozen or so shifters were milling about at the compound, usually the decibel level was somewhere around a dull roar.

  “Do you have a plan?” Sebastian asked, following Dax through the house.

  “Not yet.” Dax made his way to the back of the house, scanning the empty rooms as his heavy boots echoed on the old hardwood floors. Finally he came to a stop at the end of the hall and pushed the door to the left open.

  Inside, Nova Bandu, the leader of the Crimson Valley wolf pack, was at the front of the room, scribbling on a blackboard. He wore his dark hair in a man-bun, and he had at least three months’ worth of beard growth. His jeans were rolled up, and he was sporting suspenders over his plain white T-shirt. The shifter was easily over sixty years old if Dax remembered correctly, but thanks to the antiaging properties of the shifter gene, he looked like every other thirtysomething hipster in New Orleans. Twenty or so Crimson Valley wolves were seated in folding chairs, most of them leaning forward and hanging on Bandu’s every word.

  Bandu turned around as he said something about canvassing the Bywater district. But when his gaze landed on Dax, he stopped abruptly and called, “Marrok! There you are. I was wondering where you’d gotten off to.” He gestured to an open seat in the front row. “We saved a seat for you.”

  “You hang out back here,” Dax said under his breath to Sebastian. “Don’t ask them about anything, just listen and see what you can pick up.”

  “Got it.” Sebastian took a seat in the back row next to two shifters who looked bored as hell. Good, he thought. If they weren’t interested in whatever Bandu had to say, maybe they’d find something more interesting to talk about.

  A scattering of murmurs traveled through the pack as everyone watched Dax move to the front of the room. Before Dax claimed his chair, he scanned the shifters and let out a small sigh of relief when he spotted Leo and Dali on the far side of the room. At least the two of them had managed to stay out of trouble.

  “Where were we?” Bandu asked, staring at his blackboard.

  “You wanted a group of us to canvass the Bywater,” one of the shifters called out.

  “Right.” Bandu turned around and eyed Dax. “We heard about your friends, the fae couple. We’re making a plan to search the city. If they’re still here, we’ll find them.”

  Dax’s eyebrows rose. “Really? Why?”

  Bandu’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Why? Why not?”

  “Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s exactly the right thing to do. But have you thought this through? Tangling with the vampires means walking headfirst into this simmering war.”

  “You said it yourself, Marrok. It’s the right thing to do.” Bandu turned back around—but not before Dax noted the irritation in the leader’s expression—and continued to write down the various neighborhoods of New Orleans on the blackboard.

  Dax kicked his feet out and smiled to himself. He’d wondered if Bandu was the real deal. The shifter leader had positioned himself as a man of conviction, ready to put himself on the line to do the right thing, to push boundaries to right any kind of wrong. The entire war against the vampires was based off of trying to stop the vampires from exploiting vulnerable shifters. It was good to know his convictions included helping species other than his own.

  After Bandu identified the five neighborhoods where a vampire was most likely to locate a hideout, he assigned all the shifters in the room to canvassing shifts, even Sebastian, whom he welcomed without suspicion. Then he had each of them pledge to recruit a few friends to help them search for possible hideouts.

  “That’s it for now,” Bandu said. “Those of you headed out now, don’t forget to stop by the arsenal to arm yourselves.”

  The shifters all got to their feet and started to move out of the room. More than one placed a hand on Dax’s shoulder in a gesture of support as they brushed past him. Once the pack cleared out of the room, Bandu took a seat next to Dax.

  “I’m glad you made it,” Bandu said.

  “Why didn’t anyone call me?” Dax asked.

  Bandu studied him for a moment, but instead of answering, he stood. “I want to show you something.”

  His interest piqued, Dax stood and followed Bandu into an adjoining room.

  Bandu flipped the light on and Dax sucked in a sharp breath. Three of the walls were covered with brutal images of supernatural beings, each of them mangled and soaked in blood. The fourth wall had images of young shifters, all of them with haunted expressions.

  “What’s this all about?” Dax asked, dread creeping into his chest cavity, unsure if he really wanted to know.

  “All of these people?” Bandu nodded to the ones who’d been brutally beaten or murdered. “They were attacked by vampires. Used as food or ripped to shreds for daring to protect someone else from becoming food.”

  Dax’s stomach rolled. “How…” He swallowed the bile rising in the back of his throat. “Where did all these pictures come from?”

  “We have someone who works in forensics,” Bandu said, his expression flat and void of any emotion. “I asked for a running record. He sends them over once a month.” The leader walked over to a small desk and picked up a thick manila envelope. “This is last month’s delivery. Want to wager how many pictures are in here?”

  “There aren’t that many attacks in New Orleans,” Dax said. “Kilsen and I—”

  “No, they aren’t all in New Orleans,” Bandu agreed with a nod. “They’re from the entire state. Because you and Kilsen are so good at your jobs, the vampires in this town have taken to terrorizing the surrounding areas. They know you don’t go out into the bayou or up to Baton Rouge. Did you really think your work had cut down the number of attacks?”

  Actually, Dax had thought exactly that, but he wasn’t about to admit it now. Instead, he asked, “You think the attacks are coming from the Cryrique vampire hive?”

  “Maybe not the actual hive. Allcot is pretty strict about his inner circle’s behavior. But Cryrique is the largest vampire employer in the area. We have reason to believe there are groups within the organization that are actively seeking unwilling feeders.”

  Nausea hit Dax as he took in Bandu’s theory. “You’re sure all these attacks are from vampires?”

/>   Bandu walked over to the closest wall and pointed to puncture wounds on one of the victims. Then another and another. “Vampire marks on each victim.”

  Dax curled his hands into fists as pure rage seared through his veins. He was certain that if one of Allcot’s vampires crossed his path right at that moment, he’d be compelled to rip him limb from limb.

  Bandu walked over to the one wall full of people staring back at him. “And these?” He trailed his fingers over the glossy black-and-white photos. “They’re all survivors. Living with the memory of an attack.”

  “That can’t be all of them,” Dax ground out. “Someone is attacked practically daily.”

  “You’re right about that. There are far too many for this one wall. There are probably enough to plaster this entire house. But these are the worst. These are the ones I chose to remind myself what we’re fighting for.” Bandu’s tone was full of righteous conviction as he continued, “For justice, for peace of mind, for freedom to roam the city without fear.”

  Dax moved to the middle of the room and took in the terror reflected back at him in the photos. He’d known vampires were a threat. Not all of them, but enough that New Orleans had become a city fraught with danger. It was why he and Phoebe had jobs at the Void. They were responsible for keeping the city safe. But clearly they weren’t. Not even close.

  Disappointment and disgust coiled in his gut. How had he been fooling himself this entire time? He let out a curse and shook his head as if that would somehow dislodge the photos from his brain.

  “It’s a lot to take in all at once,” Bandu said.

  Dax nodded. “There’s no doubt about that.”

  “I just wanted you to see what feeds my conviction.”

  “Why?” Dax asked, giving Bandu his full attention. “Why me?”

  “Because I want you to be my second. I need a strong shifter who can mobilize the pack when I’m not around. Who will know how to handle delicate situations and deal with pack politics.” Bandu smirked. “I figure working at the Arcane gives you special insight into dealing with that sort of thing.”