The Trail of Ruins

by Shannon Reber

  I felt it jab my skin and felt the small trail of blood that ran down my neck from it. I had shoved the baton into my pocket, my arm touching it through my jeans but the way he held me prevented me from getting it out.

  I was helpless. If I moved at all, he could indeed cut my throat. I would bleed out on the forest floor.

  Frank Voca’s face turned red, his hands shaking as he stared at Knox. “What are you doing?” he asked like he had no idea what was going on.

  “I’m getting out of here, Frank. You want to come with me, use the book for something fun, I’m cool with that,” he said like he hadn’t even noticed what I’d done to that book. He gripped me even tighter and I heard a nasty smile in his voice. “Hot little piece like this, she’s got to have some money laying around.”

  My temper started to bubble up. I hadn’t been that close to losing it in quite a while.

  I needed to think rationally. I couldn’t let my temper have its head without a plan. The only advantage I had right then was the demon that still lingered around. If it was possible to convince the thing to help me, that was my best option.

  I’d never communicated with a fallen angel before. And the idea of making a deal with something that felt so evil didn’t seem like a good one. It seemed like a downright stupid plan, actually.

  I met Daw’s eyes, surprised to see no reaction on his face at all. I didn’t think that meant he didn’t care. Likely, what it meant was that he had been in quite a few life-threatening situations in his life and was simply used to it.

  As our eyes met, he winked. And it hit me in the face. Daw was Quinn’s brother. She was an inventor. She wouldn’t have bestowed one of her inventions on ONLY me.

  He didn’t react at all. He just fiddled with his phone as he dropped something on the ground that he’d taken from his pocket. My eyes practically bugged out of my head when the knife at my throat started being pulled away. Whatever was on the ground was some kind of magnet that was only pulling at the knife.

  Knox grunted, fighting to bring it back but the magnet was far too strong.

  Since Knox’s arm moved with the blade, I yanked the baton out of my pocket and brought the handle down like a club into the same bundle of nerves in his leg. He gasped in pain, clutching at his leg as he stumbled and fell to the ground. I pretended he wasn’t there, simply moving to stand next to Daw.

  Knox cursed when the knife flew out of his hand, attaching to the thing on the ground next to Daw. He scrambled to his feet but faltered, his eyes fixed on something behind us.

  Normally, I would think that was a trick to distract us. Right then, I knew it wasn’t. A light shone all around us, blotting out the feeling of evil that had pervaded the forest.

  And a glowing, white figure stopped next to me. Aldora. The second sight of the Valkyrie was even more staggering than my first sight of her had been.

  Her gauzy wings hardly looked powerful enough make her fly. She looked more like an angel than what I’d imagined a Valkyrie looking like.

  She tipped her head down in a gesture of respect. “Over and over, I find you in a heroic situation. You are an amazing woman, Madison Meyer,” she said in her voice that was like music.

  I motioned around to my team. “Without my friends, you would be escorting my soul to my afterlife today. These guys are the real heroes.”

  She looked from me, to Daw, to Simms, to Roy, and nodded. “You have all done well. You have the respect of my people as well as our thanks,” she said and turned, holding out her hand to the little revenant. “Deke Holtz, you have a place in paradise. Your suffering is over,” she said, her voice so melodic, I wanted to beg her to keep speaking.

  Deke looked around at all of us before he looked at Frank. “I don’t think you’re a bad man but I think you are mean,” he informed, all his fear gone.

  Frank swallowed hard. “I’m sorry,” he said simply, his eyes still swimming with tears.

  Deke shrugged. “Thanks for the cookies,” he said and turned to look at me.

  I smiled at him. “Deke, do you want me to tell your dad and your sister anything?” I asked, liking the idea of being able to give them a tiny piece of comfort.

  Deke turned his eyes down. “My mom . . . something happened to her, didn’t it?” he asked, his voice shaking with sorrow.

  I nodded, not explaining what his mom had done.

  Deke took in a shaky breath and shook his head. “I don’t want them to be sad. It wasn’t Skylar’s fault that I got sick. It was just . . . time for me to go. Can you just tell them I love them?” he asked, a cough shaking his whole body.

  “I’ll tell them. I promise,” I said, my chest aching as my body went cold.

  He smiled at me before he reached out to Aldora. “I’m ready,” he said, a peaceful look on his face.

  Aldora waved her hand and for half a second, I saw what looked like a bridge leading to a light. It was such a staggering sight, one that showed the beauty that death could be when it was time. Deke didn’t hesitate for even a moment. He stepped forward without looking back, walking to the light . . . walking back to paradise.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  So it turned out that being an employee of the FBI was even more bureaucratic than I had thought it would be. First Simms officially arrested Knox and Frank. Then we had to get them to the FBI field office, where statements had to be taken and eighty-seven papers had to be signed. After that, the questioning began.

  The thing I had always loved about working for Erkens was that when the case was over, I was done. It didn’t work that way with the Arcane. There were laws for the use of magic and the fact Frank had dug up three bodies, used magic on them, then had summoned a demon to kill Deke’s soul meant he would be in prison for a while. I knew he deserved it but my sympathies were still with him.

  It was lucky for us that Aldora had shown up when she did. The demon couldn’t survive in her presence. If she had waited for even a few more seconds, it was likely the thing would have killed us all.

  Despite the fact Iris Libben’s resurrection went against the natural order, the Valkyries had chosen to allow her to remain. She was whole. It would have been wrong to tear her soul free again. Her husband and son needed her. I hoped they would all be okay.

  It was clear they’d have to move. They had to start a new life in a place where no one knew that Iris had died. Her husband had agreed without the slightest qualm.

  After a few hours, I was ready to strangle somebody. I needed to find Ian and Spencer but every time I started to leave, someone would stop me. It felt like the world conspired to keep me in that stupid office.

  “Madison, you’re making me nervous,” Daw complained as I paced back and forth in the office we’d been taken to.

  I didn’t answer. My eyes were fixed on my phone. Ian, Spencer, and Erkens’ phones were still at Bertie Suile’s house. Was it possible their phones had just been left there? Where would they have gone?

  I was ready to throw my deal with the FBI out the window. I was not a rule-follower. They would just have to deal with that.

  I whirled toward the door at the same moment Simms walked in. “There’s news,” he said, flopping back in the chair. “Iris Libben ID’ed our guys but she also said there was another guy around. We had a composite done.” He tapped his keyboard a couple of times before my phone dinged.

  I brought up the picture he had sent me and my blood ran cold. “Kip,” I whispered, turning it to show to Daw.

  He slouched in his chair and rubbed his brow. “If he's the one pulling the strings, that means this whole thing was just a setup . . . but why? What was the purpose?”

  I thought back over everything that had happened. The chief had called Erkens in on the case. He had assigned Bukowski to work with us. Bukowski had looked VERY stressed out that morning like he had been given some bad news.

  What if he'd figured out that Kip had set the whole situation up? What would Kip do when Bukowski confronted him? I knew Bukowski well enough to
know that's precisely what he would do.

  With my heart in my throat, I turned and ran. I knew Daw, Simms, and Roy were behind me. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered other than to find out if my fear was justified.

  Because we’d ridden in with Simms, I ran to his SUV, pleased that Roy was right by my side. Daw and Simms got into the front seats, both of them looking back at me.

  I gave them Bertie’s address, my eyes glued to my phone as I turned on Bukowski’s GPS. He was there with the others at Bertie's house. What did that mean?

  Gruesome images floated through my mind as I started searching for Kip. I took the composite photo and entered it into my facial recognition software, checking traffic cams for that face.

  I looked up when the car slowed. Bertie’s house. Right across the street from the city of the dead. Please. Please let me be wrong.

  I dove out of the SUV before Simms had even come to a stop and barreled toward the house. My heart pounded so hard, it felt like it would explode from my chest. Black spots floated in front of my eyes when I saw that the front door wasn’t quite closed.

  Slowly, I pushed it open and my knees gave out. The acrid smell of gunpowder mixed with the metallic scent of blood made my stomach roll. I had already lost Ian once. I couldn’t handle losing him a second time.

  After a moment, a sound registered in my mind. I got to my feet so fast, I almost toppled over. It was a gasp, followed closely by a groan. Someone was alive.

  I darted in and looked around, my heart dropping down into my stomach. Bertie lay on the ground in front of her recliner, moaning as she clutched at her bloodstained arm. Not far from her, Bukowski lay on the ground, a gaping hole in his chest.

  Blood was everywhere. On the walls. On the floor. Even on the ceiling. There was hardly a surface in the small living room that wasn’t covered by it.

  I sank to my knees next to Bukowski and with shaky fingers, checked for a pulse. I knew there wouldn’t be one but I had to check.

  The coolness of his skin mixed with the lack of pulse made everything real. Kip had murdered Bukowski. There was no other explanation. But why?

  Simms swore, rushing over to Bertie as Roy sniffed the air.

  I tore my eyes away from the wound in Bukowski’s chest, looking for any sign that the others were there. On a cluttered table inside the door, four cell phones lay in a neat line. It was like a taunt.

  I crouched there, staring at the phones. Were Ian, Erkens, and Spencer gone too? Had I lost them all in one horrible blow?

  Daw took hold of my arm and guided me to my feet, then out onto the step. In the few hours we’d known each other, he truly had become family. I trusted him and I knew he trusted me as well.

  I didn’t speak. What I did was check the facial recognition app on my phone. The sight that met my eyes was like a fist to the solar plexus.

  Kip Theron’s face had been captured in a traffic cam on the west side of the city. He was driving Erkens’ truck. I enlarged the image as much as possible and a mix of terror and hope rose inside me. In the bed of the truck, three figures were covered by a tarp. There was no blood anywhere I could see.

  Were they okay? Where was he taking them? Why? But I already knew. The only answer was that the PSA had hired Kip to bring in the medium they were looking for. The fact they got Spencer as well must have been sheer luck. I had no idea why Kip would have taken Erkens.

  All I knew was that I was done. They had taken the man I loved, one of my best friends, and a man who was family to me. This. Was. War.

  EPILOGUE

  TC Erkens opened his eyes and groaned. His head was fogged like he’d been drugged. Had he been drugged?

  He shifted around, trying to take stock of himself. He didn’t feel any injuries. He didn’t see any blood. But the lack of clarity in his mind worried him.

  He turned his head as he heard a groan next to him. It took him a minute to be able to focus. Ian. He wasn’t the kid’s biggest fan. Right then, the sight of him was downright wonderful.

  “Ian?” he croaked, his voice cracking like some prepubescent kid.

  Ian groaned, rubbing his hands over his face as he sat up. “What happened?” he asked, his voice just as hoarse as Erkens’ was.

  “No idea,” Erkens humphed, looking around the area they were in.

  What he saw was a simple, box-like room that held nothing other than them. There wasn’t even a place to go to the bathroom.

  He shifted into a slightly more comfortable position and tipped his head back to look at the ceiling. “Do you remember how you were caught?” he asked, vague images floating through his mind of two men, some kind of tranq-dart, and then the world going black.

  Ian swallowed hard before he spoke. “Knox got in his car and started driving. We followed. He pulled into this random parking lot and all of a sudden, that Kip guy set off some kind of smoke bomb. It wasn't normal smoke, though. It knocked Spencer out. I kind of think it might have nixed his power. Tria thinks that's what Quinn's been working on, a way to nix magic. That's why she got weird when--”

  “You're rambling,” Erkens cut in, a pit forming in his stomach.

  If Spencer had been taken, that might start a war. There was no way Hades would allow his son to be held and experimented on. They had to get out of there before the other shoe dropped.

  Ian grimaced but didn't comment, his eyes changing color as he stared at the wall.

  Erkens blew out a breath. “Please tell me you’ve got some kind of plan on how to get us out of here. I need some good news,” he snapped, his head still fogged by whatever drug had been used on him.

  Ian got to his feet, steadying himself on the wall for a beat before he walked to the door.

  Erkens rolled his eyes. There was no way the door would be unlocked. The kid was an idiot.

  But the knob turned easily as Ian tried it. The kid glanced back at him and shrugged a little. “My plan is to get out of here however I can. You with me?” he asked, not waiting for an answer before he walked out of that white room.

  Erkens got to his feet, nervous not to have his sidearm at his hip. Something told him he was going to need it.

  Erkens had been a cop more than half his life. He had gotten used to the fluctuations in anxiety level. A case would go from boring the pants off him to massive spikes of adrenaline. In all his years, he had never felt more afraid than he did right then.

  His hands were balled into tight fists as he stepped out the door. He had to be ready for whatever was coming. He wasn’t ready, though.

  It looked like a hotel of sorts. It was a long, white hallway with doors on either side. None of the doors were closed or locked in any way he could see.

  At the end of the hall, there was a door with a palm scanner. That door appeared to be metal and if he was right, led out of that prison-like space.

  His mouth fell open as he peered into a common area at the end of the hall. A few people glanced up, giving him sad smiles. There were fifteen or twenty of them and they ranged in age from a two-year-old to a man who looked close to ninety.

  Ian glanced back at him. There were tears in the boy’s eyes. “I always wondered how the PSA convinced their workers to sign the contract. This has to be it. They’re holding someone as hostage to keep their people in line.”

  Erkens wanted to shrug that idea off. As he looked around, he knew Ian was right. They were there because the PSA was coming for Madison.

  His eyes narrowed. He had a bad feeling that if Madison was sent some kind of message telling her that he and Ian were being held, she would do whatever they told her to do. She was a highly intelligent woman but the wounds from her past were her weakness. Losing the people she loved would break her.

  “Would you look at that,” a voice said and a young woman stepped over to stand next to Ian. “If it isn’t Ian Gregory.”

  Erkens’ mouth went hard as he recognized Adrian Ezra. He had thought the wraiths would have killed her. She must have found someone to protect her.
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  Ian stepped away from her, his eyes cold slits of fury. “I guess this means my prayers that you were dragged to the underworld weren’t answered,” he said in a cold voice.

  Adrian tipped her head to the side and folded her arms. “Such a handsome face and such a stupid boy,” she needled, taking a small step closer to him. “I’ve been wanting to ask you how you knew about the way my dad died. But see, that became very obvious very quickly. I wonder if they know you’re a medium,” she said, looking at her nails like they were the most fascinating thing she had seen.

  Erkens took hold of Ian’s arm, guiding him away from the girl. He knew Ian was in serious danger. If Adrian chose to share the information she had worked out . . . Erkens didn’t even want to contemplate the idea.

  Ian pulled his arm free and shoved his hands into his pockets. “She’s going to tell them but we already knew that. Tria has a plan. What I need is for you to find a way out of here. Get out. Find Maddie. Tell her--”

  “You,” a voice said from behind Erkens.

  He turned to find a man in a guard’s uniform with his hand wrapped around a baton. He stepped closer, planning to disarm the guy and use the baton to club his way out of there. The problem was, another guard was with him.

  That man used his own baton to lock Erkens’ arms and shove him into a wall. Helplessly, he watched as Ian was dragged away.

  “I’ll find a way to get you out of here, I swear,” the guard said in a voice only loud enough for Erkens to hear.

  He froze where he stood. He knew that voice. But it couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible.

  Slowly, he turned but all he saw was the back of a figure in a guard’s uniform walking away. Could it be? Was it possible that after so many years, he had been with the PSA?

  The guard glanced back as he got to the exit and Erkens’ mouth fell open. It was him. His son was alive after all.

  Author’s Note