by AJ Sherwood
“Come, meet my Brandon,” Mack encouraged, drawing her further into the room.
I stood under those weighing eyes and realized that I might have a good impression of her, but Izora wasn’t sure what to make of me yet. Which was fair—she’d likely only heard things about me secondhand.
Holding out a hand, I offered a smile. “Pleasure, Izora.”
She took the hand, her eyes still steady on mine. “Brandon. I’m glad I finally get to meet you in person. Sit for a while, tell me about your adventures with my brother.”
Oh yeah, she definitely wasn’t sure of what to make of me yet. I was amenable to changing her mind, if I could.
We sat at the kitchen table, which was safe to do as things were still in the oven. Mack lingered near my shoulder, not leaving me alone with a woman who may choose to stab me in the liver, which I appreciated about him.
“I told you about how we met, didn’t I?” Mack inquired, settling on my knee.
I made room for him, wrapping an arm around his waist. He’d gotten so much more confident with public displays of affection since our bonding. It was weird. I loved it.
Izora’s eyebrows rose at our cuddling but she answered steadily. “Yes, you did. A very brief version, I think, as I suspect there’s many a detail in there not suitable for all audiences.”
Mack blushed and couldn’t seem to meet her eyes. “Well—”
“Uh-huh, I thought so. But that’s not what I’m asking, I want to know—”
The kitchen door opened again but this time with a bit of a slam. I looked up sharply. The latest arrival was a person who had most definitely not been invited. Or at least, he wasn’t supposed to have been.
“Georgie,” Adelle said sharply in warning. “Don’t start. You’re here to celebrate with him and apologize for earlier.”
Ah, so he’d wormed an invitation out of his mother somehow.
“I’m here for the food,” Georgie retorted.
Mama Adelle said something sharply again in Creole—I’ve got to start studying this language—but some tones were universal. This one was an admonishment to behave.
Georgie looked straight at me and Mack and his lip curled up in a sneer. “Think you’re some bigshot now, huh, little brother. FBI and shit. Fait putain.”
Both women gasped, horrified. Mack flinched, angry at the slur, but hurt by it too.
Again, I had no way of knowing what he’d said. I didn’t need to. I shifted Mack carefully off my lap and stood.
Georgie looked up and up at me, and the first dredges of concern filtered through his sneer. Finally remembering how our first meeting went down, was he? His expression turned into outright apprehension as I approached.
“What?” he taunted, because drunk, stupid men couldn’t seem to help themselves. “You didn’t understand—”
He’d already been warned once to behave, and frankly I had no patience for anyone who hurt my Mack. I hauled off and hit him square in the jaw. Georgie snapped backwards, landing hard against the door behind him, a hand instinctively flying to his face. He sat crumpled there for a moment, dazed.
“B-Brandon,” Adelle softly pleaded behind me.
I ignored her for the moment. “You apologize and behave, Georgie, and I’ll let you go.”
His head came up and meanness flashed in his eyes. “I’m not going to apologize to that—guh.”
It’d been a mistake to give him any leeway. I grabbed him by the throat and squeezed, feeling the tendons and muscles under my hand give under the pressure. He wriggled like a fish around my fist, feet kicking as he sought purchase, hands scrambling at my wrist. Georgie was first purple, then blue from the lack of oxygen, fighting hard for breath. I wanted him to just stay like that for a moment longer. Restrict his airway until he no longer needed air. I wanted to end his petty reign once and for all. I knew I couldn’t, that it would be crossing a line, but I wanted to do it anyway.
Warm hands touched my shoulders, came down over my arms in a light grip. “Brandon,” Mack pleaded with me softly. “I’m angry with him too but this isn’t the way.”
He was right. Dammit. I knew he was right, but it was still physically taxing to let go of my prey once I had him. I hauled the door open and threw Georgie out like the trash he was. He landed with a very satisfying thump as he hit the ground. His hands immediately went to his throat as he gasped for breath, almost retching. I slammed the door shut again to shut out the sight as, frankly, I didn’t care if he was alright or not. Well, no, I did care. I wanted him to be not alright.
Dead silence reigned behind me.
My temper pitched and roiled in me. I wanted to go out and beat Georgie, as I was sure that would make me feel better. But I liked Adelle too much to beat up one of her children, even if he did deserve it. I felt bad for my hostess. I turned my head towards Adelle and managed, “Sorry.”
“Don’t you apologize,” she returned stiffly. Tears hovered in her eyes, but I thought they were born more from anger than any other emotion. “Georgie needed a comeuppance. I’m sorry he’s ruined this dinner party, though.”
Izora came and put an arm around her mother’s shoulders, squeezing gently. “Nothing’s ruined, Mama. Although the food will be if we don’t get it out of the oven. Let’s set the table and eat, alright?”
Adelle wiped one cheek, nodded, and went for the oven. It took me another moment of standing there, my hands shaking. I had to breathe deep and steady to shove my anger down. The buzz of the adrenaline high slowly faded and only when I felt like I was in control of my temper again did I dare to move. I shifted to get out of their way, drawing Mack with me. As I moved, I studied him from the corner of my eye. I knew Mack was angry with Georgie, and didn’t think much of him, but still. If Don ever treated me that way, I’d be way more than hurt. I wasn’t sure if Mack still held any sibling love for a man who had routinely persecuted him growing up and treated him just as badly as an adult.
Some of this must have shown on my face, as Mack popped up on tiptoes to give me a quick, chaste kiss. “It’s okay. I was actually afraid of Georgie showing up and staying, so you did us all a favor by getting rid of him. We have a good chance of having a pleasant time tonight now.”
“Yeah? Then I’m glad.” Still ready to go outside and pummel Georgie, but if Mack was willing to let this go, I’d follow his lead.
Hopefully the rest of the night would go much better.
It didn’t. Not entirely. We’d had plenty of food and waited a good half hour but none of the rest had come. The remaining two sisters, Lani and Rafaela, had at least texted their mother and said they couldn’t come. The brothers, Atley, Fred, and Nyle had just flat not shown up. Edmée and Cali had, of course, made an appearance, and another cousin named Lastie who I’d gotten a good impression of. Mack had shrugged, as if this was to be expected, but I could see that it left a ding in his heart that his siblings couldn’t even be happy for him. Mama Adelle was ready to flay her children alive. I expected ears rung after we left. I was just as angry on Mack’s behalf because I didn’t like to see my lover hurt from this.
The people who loved him down here were sweet and supportive, but the silence from the rest of the family was very loud. It would be a long, long time before I was willing to come back down to this area of the country again. After we got Mama Adelle back down here with the car, I voted to steer clear of it altogether.
Mack had had about as much of this homecoming as he could stand, and wanted to leave. Sooner rather than later, and I didn’t blame him. Thankfully our exorcist arrived today.
The nearest airport was Baton Rouge, naturally, so we left early to fetch Eli and her anchor. I was very short on details when it came to just who we were picking up. I wasn’t even sure if the anchor was male, female, nonbinary, or what. Since neither of us knew who to look for, Mack had made up a quick sign just in case.
We stood in the waiting area just outside of Baggage Claim. Like most airports, the color scheme was monotonous – grey
carpet, grey chairs, white square pillars and white tiled ceiling. I checked the monitors first thing, confirming their flight had landed. It had, and even a few minutes early. Good, they should be out soon.
People spilled through the doors, so Mack pulled out his sign and held it high up on his chest. I kept a look out for anyone who might be wearing an FBI jacket. Most of the time, our division didn’t. For the obvious reason that our acronym was PAD which, no. Really glad we’d gotten our vehicle on short notice and they hadn’t had a chance to put any of the FBI decals on it. I would put that off for as long as possible, too.
A woman with an interesting left arm caught my eye. It was metal from the elbow down, looking somewhat steampunk, matching the Renaissance-type red vest and dark pants she wore. Her hair was flaming red—I doubted it was natural—and pulled up in a twist. She looked fun, like a person who would get up to mischief with you. It might have been the pert, upturned nose giving me that impression.
She stopped dead in the middle of the hallway, tilted her head back, and called out strongly, “MACKENZIE LAFAYETTE!”
Mack jumped, startled for a split second. I saw mischief kick in a second later, and he responded in kind, “ELIANA FORSYTHE!”
“There you are!” She strode toward us, cutting through the throng. Oh yeah, she was quite the character. I understood most of our exorcists were.
What intrigued me was that not one, but two men followed her. Was she training someone as well? Both men looked late-thirties to me, of a similar age to Eliana. You couldn’t make any assumptions based on age and think youth meant trainee. I was a prime example of that.
Eliana came straight to Mack with her flesh hand outstretched. “Good to meet you, Mack.”
“Thanks, you as well. This is Brandon, my anchor.”
I shook hands with her, approving of her strong grip. I hated limp-fish handshakes.
Gesturing to the two men behind her, she introduced them with a wave. “My anchors and husbands: Booker and Quinn.”
Come again? I’d never heard of having two anchors. A triad, really? As startled as I was, I liked the idea she’d been able to do that. It proved our division really was that open minded. “Glad to meet you all. You’ve got luggage?”
“Just the carry-ons,” Booker said in a soft-spoken voice. He was lean but fit, with thick dark hair and taupe skin. He looked up at me with curiosity through black, square-framed glasses—Booker wasn’t exactly tall, barely hitting my collarbones—as if I wasn’t at all what he’d expected. The feeling was mutual.
“We’re parked in short-term,” Mack said, encouraging them to follow. “We figured it would be easier. You have a good flight?”
I fell into the rear with Quinn, holding out a hand and gesturing to one of the roller suitcases he was dragging. “I can take one?”
“Sure, thanks.” Quinn was not short, but he was so stocky he initially appeared that way. A powerlifter was my guess. The cords stood out on his hands and forearms, and while he had a small waist, his thighs were massive. There were small diamond studs in both of his ears, a gold chain around his neck that peeked out from beneath his white shirt, all of it a sharp contrast against his ebony skin. The man looked badass. I was abruptly glad he was on our side. He peered up at me with sharp eyes. “Not often I see another man of color in the ranks.”
I snorted. “Tell me about it. I think you and Booker are the first I’ve seen. We’re a bit whitewashed.”
“Yeah. Seen that for myself. I understand you and Mack are new?”
“This is my second official case. We’ve been working together for a little over three months, now. How long have you been at this?”
“About three years.” He pointed to his fellow anchor and exorcist ahead of us. “I was recruited three years ago to be an anchor. Got thrown in with those two to train with. Then they decided they liked me too much and wanted to keep me.”
Eli turned to give a saucy wink over her shoulder. Booker just chuckled.
“Got a bit of a stink about it,” Quinn said, rolling his eyes at the memory. “No one was really supportive at first. But Eli put her foot down, Booker threatened to quit altogether and take her with us, and they finally gave up and let us be.”
I had the feeling that was the oversimplified version of the story. “We didn’t have any trouble whatsoever. But Mack was pretty adamant when he first joined that finding an anchor for him was a pipe dream. When he met me, and changed his mind, our boss leapt on the chance to get him properly bonded.”
“I bet. Brandon, if you don’t mind the question, what were you before joining up?”
I didn’t mind, as I had the same question. “SWAT. You?”
“SEAL.” Gesturing ahead, Quinn indicated Booker. “He was a ghost hunter. Don’t let him fool you, though, the man spars with me regularly. He can take someone down when he’s of the mind to. We’ve basically divided it up so Booker is direct support for Eli. I watch their backs as they work.”
That made sense, as Eli was down to one good arm. I imagined she needed direct support. I appreciated Quinn reading me in like this and gave him a nod. “Good to know.”
The conversation stalled there while we loaded bags and people into the Tahoe. I was very glad it had a third-row seat, as we abruptly needed it with five adults. Mack sat in the middle with Eli, probably to swap notes with her, and that left Booker in the very back and Quinn sitting up front with me. I didn’t mind, as it was a great chance for me to pick another anchor’s brain. I’d meant to do it with Ken, but never got the chance, what with the situation hitting the fan.
We stopped for fast food to feed everyone’s bellies and then loaded back up to drive to Lafayette, an hour and a half away. We called Falisa on the way so she would know to meet us at the dorm building. Quinn and I swapped stories and pointers with each other as we drove, and I could hear a lively conversation going on in the back. It gave me warm, fuzzy feelings. I loved being part of a good team dynamic. It was one of the few things from SWAT I missed.
At Eli’s request, we went straight to campus so she could check out the dorm and come up with a plan. I pulled into what had become my usual spot right off to the side, and we piled out of the SUV. My guard was up as we approached the front door. Someone had already put boards up over all the windows, and it made the nice building look like something haunted and ready for demolition. Which wasn’t far off from the truth.
Eli sauntered up to the front door, Mack using our all-pass key to unlock it for her, and she barely had a foot inside when she stopped dead.
“God, it’s awful in here!” she exclaimed. “Mack, is this what it was like on day one?”
I couldn’t sense anything, not really, but an unnatural chill lingered in the air strong enough to raise goosebumps on my arms. It was something colder, damper than air conditioning could produce. I rubbed my bare arms to try and shake the feeling.
“No,” Mack said grimly. “It’s worse. By about a factor of ten I would say. Cher, you stick with me.”
I’d have no way of knowing something was coming down without him. I had no equipment on me just then. To reassure us both, I put a hand on his shoulder and kept it there.
Eli strode in to stand in the middle of the foyer. There was nothing hesitant about her stride. A queen walking into her own domain would have that kind of confidence. She turned her head, looking every direction as her anchors came to stand at either side, flanking her. “I don’t see it but I sure can see the evidence of it. They didn’t clean up in here.”
True. Glass shards were all over the place.
“We told them not to,” Mack explained. “It was too dangerous.”
“Smart call. We’ll want to clean up some, though, or risk getting cut to ribbons as we work.” She turned and met Mack’s eyes, giving him a serious nod. “It was a good call, stopping where you did and bringing me in. As it is, I think it’s going to take all of us to get this one done. It’s a lot of area, I can tell just from the outside of the buil
ding.”
I had a bad feeling about this. “By all of us, do you include Delaney?”
Eli grimaced. “We’ll need his eyes for this. Like I said, it’s a lot of ground. And we’ll have to move very quickly.”
“I’ll watch him,” Quinn promised me. “And squash him if he starts saying something he shouldn’t.”
I wasn’t all too happy about that. But it wasn’t my call, either. “Okay. What do you want us to do?”
“Help them haul the equipment to the front door. Don’t go inside just yet, though.” Eli turned to her anchors. “Someone want to pitch in and help them? I’m going to be setting up seals around the building to ward this place in.”
Quinn and Booker immediately turned to each other and did a quick game of roshambo. Booker won, and Quinn shrugged in resignation. “I’ll go with. Do not come back in here without me, you got it?”
Eli put her good hand on her hip, exasperated. “We’re not stupid, Q.”
Booker backed him up. “No, but you’re excitable. And you make interesting decisions when excited. I got her, Q.”
Grumbling something I probably didn’t want to hear, Eli glared at them for a second before addressing Mack and me. “You game to bust this place tonight?”
“Ready and willing,” Mack promised. “I’m ready to get out of here.”
“Then go get the stuff. I’ll start the prep.”
It was a lot of salt, lights, and such to haul over. Nothing had been unpacked, so we took the time to get the oil lanterns prepped with oil in them and the wicks wet, tested the batteries in the flashlights, etcetera. We wanted to be ready to roll out as soon as Eli gave us the word. With that done, I went to check on her. Eli was down on her knees, a fat piece of chalk in her hand, scribbling something on the sidewalk. I had to squint a bit to make it out. We’d covered the basics in wards, suppressants, and barriers in basic training so I recognized it. I wouldn’t be able to duplicate it, but at least I knew what it was. The circle, with all of its squiggles, was meant to lock a spirit in. Unless something came along to wipe that circle out—like water—it would stay stable for ages.
