by Jayne Faith
“I take it you got my message,” I said, glancing at his shadowed face. In the light of passing street lamps he looked older than I remembered.
“I was informed,” he said. He didn’t look at me, but there was a lilt of amusement in his voice.
And then with a jolt, a realization struck me. It was something he’d said last time we’d met, but it hadn’t really sunk in at that moment. “How long ago did you say you ki—took over the body of the mage?”
“Over five decades ago.”
“You’re . . . immortal? I mean, not just impossible to kill, but ageless? There’s no way you’re that old.”
He heaved a heavy sigh, as if it were something tragic. “That’s right. This body stopped aging when my soul replaced its original owner’s.”
“I don’t mean to sound self-involved,” I said, the words coming reluctantly. “But does that mean I’ve stopped aging, too?”
I spoke the question, but I couldn’t bring myself to truly examine the implications of it, not yet.
With a flick of a glance at me, he gave his head a small shake. “Your situation is different. I can’t say for sure.”
“Since the reaper joined me, I’ve begun to heal very quickly from injuries. I recovered fast from the Baelman attack, too,” I said. I could tell he wasn’t enthusiastic about discussing these things, but I couldn’t help myself. Who else could I talk to?
“The reaper has a vested interest in keeping you whole,” he said.
“That’s what I figured.” I paused. “You really can’t die?”
I pulled up to a red light and watched him out of the corners of my eyes. He was drawing random lines through the condensation on the passenger side window.
“Nope. I’ve tried, believe me.”
“You’re that unhappy?” I asked quietly.
“This isn’t my world. This body doesn’t belong to me.”
I gripped the wheel. “I suppose I’d feel the same way if I got stuck in the in-between and couldn’t ever leave.”
“The in-between?”
“Yeah, the gray, misty place. Where the souls wait to be reaped. That’s where you want to get back to, right?”
“Yes.” He pointed ahead. “It’s green.”
I took my foot off the brake and drove through the intersection. We’d reached Federal Way. “Should I keep going?”
“Yes, a little farther.”
“You can go there, though, right?” I asked. “You can still reap souls?”
“Yes and yes, but I can go there only as a visitor, as you can. I can’t dwell there in this form. And I don’t reap anymore.”
“But you must want to,” I said, thinking of the soul hunger.
“I feel the pull, but I resist. When, or if, I make it back to the in-between as you call it, I’ll resume my duties as an angel of death.” He said it heavily, and a realization struck me.
“You punishing yourself?” I asked. “For Rogan?”
He sighed as if he didn’t want to answer, but after a moment said, “I suppose that’s the best way to explain it, yes.”
I saw the first sign for Gregori Industries and gave him a sharp look. “Is that where you wanted to go?”
He nodded. “This is where the last Baelman was born.”
Ice-cold fingers seemed to grasp my heart, and I couldn’t respond right away. I drove a few more yards and then pulled off to the side of the road opposite the corner of the Gregori Industries campus, shifted into park, and killed the headlights. I left the engine running.
I twisted so I could face him. “You mean those creatures are created here? In a—a lab?”
His brows rose. “You didn’t know?”
“I thought they came through the Rip!” My voice had slid up half an octave.
“Baelmen were eradicated centuries ago.” He gestured up ahead to the main entrance to the Gregori grounds. “But recently someone in there figured out how to bring them back.”
Someone.
That someone had to be Jacob Gregori—my uncle, though only a couple of people knew I was related to the infamous tycoon. It wasn’t a fact I cared to broadcast. Gregori Industries had been engaged in cutting edge work that intersected technology with magic when the original Rip tore through Manhattan and spilled demons into our world. Though the conglomerate had never been proven responsible in court, everyone knew something had gone awry in the Gregori labs that caused the permanent inter-dimensional tear in New York and later in a few other places, including here near Boise.
“At least they haven’t discovered how to make more than one appear at a time,” Atriul continued. “Thank the devil for small favors.”
My phone was vibrating a specific pattern my pocket. I recognized it as the SC app, and suspected it was Lagatuda calling. I pulled out the device and hit ignore but then quickly held the symbol that would open our channel, hoping that would keep him from another call attempt—or worse, coming out to check up on me.
“Something wrong?” Atriul asked.
“No, I’ll call him back later.” I stuck the phone back in my jacket. “Can you tell me how you know the Baelman I killed came from Gregori Industries?” I asked.
“Through my network,” he said.
My eyebrows inched up. “Network of . . . people like you?” I didn’t need to give away too much about Atriul to Lagatuda.
“In a sense. Necromancers and others who have unique abilities in that area.”
“So is this a project that was approved at the top, or did it come from someone else within Gregori—a rogue scientist perhaps?”
It was as close as I could get to naming Phillip Zarella while Lagatuda was listening. Zarella was a scientist and the most notorious human rights criminal since Hitler, and most of the world believed he’d been killed several months ago in a prison escape attempt. But I knew Zarella was living right here on the Gregori campus under Jacob Gregori’s protection. Yet another fact I had no desire to reveal. If I did, I’d have to explain how I knew he was there, and I couldn’t do so without exposing way too much about myself. It wouldn’t do any good, anyway. Gregori had special status for his campus that prevented police and military forces from storming the place. And from what Jacob had implied, the government knew he had Zarella there and were willingly permitting the arrangement.
Atriul gave a humorless laugh. “Oh no, it’s all approved at the highest levels.”
So Jacob was behind the creation of the creature.
“Why, for the love of all that’s good in the world, would anyone want to unleash the Baelmen?” I asked.
It didn’t make sense, from what I knew of Jacob Gregori. I didn’t agree with a lot of his practices, but his mission in life was to close the Rip, to save humanity from the scourge of demons. Even if the Baelmen weren’t Rip-spawned, bringing them into existence seemed counter to Jacob’s aim.
“A Baelman is the perfect assassin,” Atriul said. “Like you, others would assume they were some new type of demon and most likely wouldn’t even think to look for a human culprit. And if by chance a Baelman is killed, a new one will be ready to take its place within a month on the next new moon. A steady supply of untraceable killers.”
Except the Baelman had been traced—back to Gregori Industries.
I firmed my mouth into a hard line.
My mind spun, thinking of alternate possibilities. Maybe Jacob was hiring out the Baelmen as assassins? Some of the things Jacob did were reprehensible, but I didn’t really see him going into the business of hiring out hits. He must be the one ordering the kills.
“We know the next one is coming on Halloween, with the next new moon,” I said. “And you’re saying that it will originate here, from the Gregori campus?”
“I believe that’s correct.”
“How do we stop it?” I asked.
“You know that better than I do, having killed one yourself.”
“Yeah, but I almost died doing it. I might not be so lucky next time.”
“Sorry, I don’t have any tips for you there.”
“Wait,” I said. “I thought you told me you’ve been tracking Baelmen.”
“Yes. Tracking. Not trying to kill.”
I looked at him in confusion, trying to read his expression by the glow of the numerous Gregori Industries security lights. I thought I caught the mournful look I’d seen on his face a couple of times before and had a guess as to why he would want to try catching up to a Baelman. He’d been looking for a way to end his human existence, to kill the body he inhabited so he could be released back to the place he considered home.
Atriul straightened and leaned forward. “Someone’s coming.”
I squinted into the semi-darkness. He was right. Three people were approaching at a fast jog—men, from their bulky, tall builds—and it looked as if they carried weapons.
I flipped on the headlights.
I recognized the uniforms. Three of Jacob’s men were headed straight for us.
Chapter 16
I REFLEXIVELY REACHED for earth magic and touched my stun gun, though I knew my service weapon wouldn’t be much use against the assault rifles Jacob’s men carried.
I felt the tingling flow of Atriul summoning his magic next to me.
I could have started the engine and sped away, but I didn’t. Jacob already knew it was me, and his men weren’t going to gun me down on the side of the road. I didn’t think so, anyway.
“Stay here,” I said to Atriul and carefully swung open my door and stepped out with my hands raised. They were well-trained men and not likely to be too jumpy with their triggers, but I didn’t want to give them any excuse.
“Hi there,” I called. “You know me—Ella Grey. I have a stun gun on my belt, but I’m not going to draw it. And, uh, these aren’t the droids you’re looking for. Does that work on you guys?”
Atriul snorted a laugh, and I almost cracked a small grin. Maybe he was more human than I’d assumed.
The soldiers weren’t laughing, but at least they weren’t pointing their guns at me. They’d stopped several feet away.
“Mr. Gregori sent us to escort you onto the campus, ma’am,” one of them said in that formal, staccato speech style common among military men. “He’d like to speak to you.”
I felt myself harden. If Jacob had sent the assassin, he had a hell of a lot to answer for. Could he know that I’d discovered he was behind the Baelman? He wasn’t stupid. Atriul had been tracking the Baelmen and might have already drawn Jacob’s attention for that, and Atriul was sitting right here in the passenger seat of my truck. Jacob was more than capable of doing that math.
Regardless, I wasn’t going to walk into a trap.
“Sorry, but I prefer neutral ground,” I said, my voice chilly.
The lead guy nodded, and the three of them turned and jogged back toward the entrance to Gregori Industries.
Just as I slid back into the driver’s seat, something hit me: my channel with Lagatuda was still open. I could only imagine what he made of Jacob’s invitation. The way the crew-cut guy had spoken to me left no doubt that there was some familiarity between me and Jacob Gregori. My only hope was that with the phone stuffed into my pocket and the men several feet away, Lagatuda had missed at least part of the exchange.
I turned off the open channel between me and Lagatuda.
When my phone vibrated, I jumped.
It was Jacob. I answered.
“I know it’s you behind the Baelman. Now Supernatural Crimes knows it, too,” I said, irritated by his boldness and my own carelessness with the SC app. “Your fences aren’t going to protect you from a murder charge.”
“I care about you, Ella, and I’m only trying to warn you,” he said, ignoring my accusation. His smooth voice only pissed me off more. “Your blond friend and her witches are dabbling in things they can’t control. They’re going to tear the Rip wide open, and I can’t let that happen. But I’ll make you a deal. I’ll spare your friend if you promise not to interfere with the rest. It’s an offer you should take. You can’t protect them.”
I was yelling, telling him where he could shove his deal, when he broke through my tirade with his icy calm.
“The creature brought me the scrying mirror, Ella. I know all about you.”
My blood ran cold as words died in my throat. I took a breath to resume my hollering, but he’d already disconnected. I stared down at the phone in my clenched fist, my pulse pounding in my temples.
I slammed the heel of my other hand into the steering wheel. He’d admitted to it. He’d already killed one woman and attempted to murder two more. I’d nearly lost Deb.
And he had Jennifer’s scrying mirror. That meant he knew everything about who I was—my necromancy, the reaper soul, and probably the underworld magic I could command.
My head swam as anger pounded through me. I squeezed my eyelids closed and tried to get my breathing under control.
Deb. She’d sworn to me that she and the other witches weren’t involved in anything dangerous. No black magic, just a few dark-edge practitioners in the group. It wasn’t like her to lie outright. But since she’d told me, I’d thought it odd that she was friends with dark-edge witches. That didn’t seem like her, either.
Trepidation quelled some of my anger. I needed answers. I tapped call under Deb’s name.
“Hello?” Her voice sounded groggy with sleep. I hadn’t realized it was so late.
“Deb, we need to talk, and it can’t wait,” I said.
“Okay.” Her voice sharpened. “I’ll be at your place in thirty.”
“See you soon.” I disconnected.
She hadn’t asked what I wanted to talk about. Maybe she already knew. Maybe she’d been expecting it.
I blew out a long breath and turned to Atriul, who’d been watching and listening to it all—my exchange with Jacob, my little outburst, my call to Deb.
“You and Jacob Gregori have exchanged phone numbers?” he asked, seeming to choose his words carefully.
I stared straight ahead for a moment. “We’ve had run-ins before.”
I pulled away from the side of the road and flipped a U-turn.
He made a little noise of interest but didn’t ask any more questions. I definitely wasn’t going to offer additional information.
“Had enough human drama for one night?” I said wryly.
“I’ve lived among you for long enough, nothing really surprises me anymore.”
“I bet,” I said. “Speaking of human things, I want to be able to get in touch with you. You know, preferably with a method from this century that doesn’t involve using demons as carrier pigeons. Any chance you have a phone?”
“No,” he said. “Thus far I’ve found such a device unnecessary.”
“Just how isolated are you?” I tossed him an incredulous look, but he ignored my question. “In any case, I think we need to remedy that.”
I pulled into the brightly lit parking lot of a gas station and left the engine running.
“I’ll be right back,” I said.
I ran in and bought an inexpensive burner phone plus three months’ worth of basic service. Back in the truck, I tore the package open, activated it, and showed him how to use it.
“See, you can go on the internet, too.” I peered at him. “You know what that is, right?”
He barked a laugh. “Just because I’ve had no use for a mobile device doesn’t mean I don’t know what it is.”
“How do you keep in contact with the network you mentioned?” I asked.
“Necromancy. Demons,” he said. “Occasional face-to-face meetings.”
I wanted to know more, to fire off a bunch of questions about underworld magic, but Deb would be arriving at my place soon.
“Where can I drop you?” I asked. I took the turn off Federal Way that led to Broadway, a street that would take us most of the way back to my part of town.
“The end of Reserve is fine,” he said, naming a street that led up into an older neighborhood of th
e East Boise foothills.
I pulled over to let him off where he’d requested.
“Don’t forget to keep the phone charged, and carry it will you,” I said as he stood with one hand ready to close the passenger door.
He lifted the phone in a little salute and dipped his chin once.
As I drove away, glancing at his duster-clad figure in the rearview mirror, I couldn’t help a stab of curiosity about his living situation and what his home was like. Did he rent? Where did he get the money to pay for housing? Did he have any decorative flourishes, or did he prefer to be strictly utilitarian? Did he have a jar of mayo in his fridge? What was in his medicine cabinet?
Somehow it was really hard to picture him doing mundane household things like sitting in front of the TV pairing socks from a pile of clean laundry, or balancing on a ladder cleaning leaves out of the rain gutters.
But he’d laughed at my Star Wars reference. Maybe he was a movie buff.
When I reached my apartment Deb’s Honda was already there.
My insides tightened. I’d never not wanted to see my best friend. She was the one person in the world whose presence I always preferred over my own solitude. But I couldn’t imagine why she’d tied herself up with a group of dangerous witches, and I dreaded her possible answers to my questions.
I killed the engine and sat there for a moment gathering myself and then got out and trudged up the walkway to my front door.
A cozy billow of air greeted me inside, and Damien stopped talking mid-sentence when he looked up and locked eyes with me. He and Deb both looked at me in that guilty way that made me pretty sure I’d been the topic of discussion.
She gave me a tiny smile. “Do you want to go in your bedroom?”
I shook my head as I peeled off my jacket. “Damien might as well hear this, too.”
I sat down on the leather ottoman, wrapped my arms around my middle and hunched forward.
Sucking in a small breath, I fixed my best friend with an unblinking look. “What have you and your friends been doing to draw the attention of an assassin?”
I didn’t want to reveal Jacob Gregori’s connection just yet. It was more important for me to first get the information I needed from Deb.
