Death's Door (Supernatural Security Force Book 3)

by Heather Hildenbrand

  Gran snorted. “Big talk is usually just overcompensation for a small—”

  “Gran,” I warned.

  Milo smirked.

  “Conjuring portals is easier than you think,” Z said, apparently intent on ignoring Gran’s shit-talking. Probably smart. “You only need the right materials and an incantation. The incantation is actually searchable on the internet.”

  “No, not modern magic,” I said, shaking my head. “Old-school. Untraceable.”

  He regarded me dubiously. “Didn’t I hear something about you being wanted by the agency?”

  “Maybe.”

  “If I help you, does that mean I’ll be wanted to?”

  Gran snorted. “Whatever helps you sleep better at night.”

  “Z, trust me,” I said. “No one wants you.”

  “Damn,” Milo said. “Burn.”

  “You know what I mean. I don’t want to be caught up in anything illegal.”

  This time, I had to laugh.

  “Z, this entire treasure room you have is illegal.” I held up my bloodied bag. “And if you don’t help, I can just turn this bag over to the SSF. Let them run a trace on the blood spilled inside. I bet you’ll be wanted then.”

  “All right, all right.” He sighed. “If you want untraceable magic, it’s going to be a little trickier, but I can do it.”

  “Oh, almost forgot,” I said, “we need a follow-up spell that will make it look like the world inside the portal has just been destroyed.”

  Z blinked like he was simply absorbing the next crazy thing thrown his way. “This is high-level dark magic you’re asking for. My advice is to find a warlock to do it for you.”

  “If you’re offering.” I shrugged.

  “Hell no.” He pinned me with a look. “None of this gets traced back to me, got it?”

  I smirked. “Got it.” Wiggling the bag, I said, “Now, tell me what we need.”

  He sighed. “First off, you’ll need a few herbs and oils.”

  “Which ones?” Milo demanded.

  Z glanced warily at Milo. “That bottle of goatskin oil there.”

  “The one beside the rabbit’s foot?” Milo asked, following the direction of Z’s finger.

  “You’ve got it.” Z jerked a thumb at another shelf. “And the herb mixture there above the drum.”

  One by one, Z listed off the ingredients, and Milo fetched them. When they were done, Milo’s hands were overflowing with bottles, jars, and bundles of herbs.

  “Here, put them in my bag,” I said when he nearly dropped one.

  Milo came close, and I held the bag open. He pulled back, peering inside.

  “That bag is coated in blood.”

  I smirked at him. “Apparently, it’s a serum that makes you ageless.”

  “Oh, well in that case.” Milo carefully added the load he carried to the bag, swiping his finger through the blood as he did so.

  I watched as he rubbed it over his hands like lotion. “You’re disturbing,” I told him.

  He winked. “Maybe, but I’ll be disturbing long after you’re dead.”

  “Crazy ass,” Gran muttered.

  I shook my head then looked back at Z, who watched us with strange horror. “Is that it?” I demanded.

  “One more thing.”

  “Point it out,” I said, impatient to be finished. Even in my own body, these heels sucked.

  “It’s not something I have lying around,” Z said cryptically.

  “Well, what is it? Where can I find it?”

  “The what and the where are up to you,” he said. “For this to work, you’ll need a sacrifice. Something or someone has to die.”

  “Easy,” Gran snorted at Z. “We’ll use your self-respect. It’s clearly already dead.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “You would think sacrificing my dignity to walk in there in the first place would be enough to satisfy this stupid spell.”

  Across the room, Milo ignored my ranting and admired himself in the mirror. We’d left Z’s place and, per my ongoing deal with Jax, gone back to his penthouse apartment in the business district.

  Well, after a quick stop for burgers.

  “God, why do these always taste better at two in the morning?” I asked, patting my belly and leaning back in my chair as the food settled in my gut.

  “One of life’s great mysteries,” Jax said from where he stood by the window. He’d abandoned staring moodily out the floor-to-ceiling windows and instead studied me. Hands shoved into the pockets of fresh pants and a hint of stubble along his jawline, he looked like dessert.

  My skin heated just thinking about it, and I shoved the mental images away before he could read me. The sight of him standing over Rourke’s ripped throat still bothered me and put a serious damper on my lusty feelings toward the tall-dark-and-murdery alpha.

  I brushed a crumb off my jeans and swiped my hand over my mouth then washed down my burger with a swig of root beer. Fergie sat on my lap, dragging her stubby fingers through the ketchup before licking them clean.

  The idea that she thought it was blood wasn’t lost on me. I averted my eyes so I didn’t think on that too deeply and lose what was left of my appetite. As a distraction, I thought of Adrik. He’d stopped by just long enough to drop Fergie off with the security team at the front door and then had promptly left again to check on the wards, which had sent some sort of disturbance through the force—or however these things worked for Nephilim.

  Gran had gone with him; a fact that left knots in my stomach. My sympathy for Adrik was only outweighed by my fear over what he might hear while they were gone. Gran’s stories were unpredictable. But, hey, if he could survive babysitting Fergie, chances were good he was up for it.

  Besides, it wasn’t like he’d had a choice. Gran had decided to go, and so she was going.

  Glancing up at Milo, I snatched up a fry and took a bite. “You look ridiculous, you know.”

  He turned away from the mirror and ran a hand down the velvet smoking jacket he’d put on. “Are you kidding? I look incredible. I call it my Hugh Hefner vibe.”

  I snorted. “Funny. I thought you were going for Mr. Bean.”

  Milo’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t hate just because you can’t look this good in a smoking jacket.”

  I gave him an evil smile and let my skin ripple with the change. When Milo caught sight of the face I’d conjured in place of my own, his jaw dropped. Then, just as quickly, I let it drop, and my features slid back into place.

  Milo marched closer, shaking his finger at me. “Gemini Judith Hawkins, don’t you ever do that again.”

  “Why?” I taunted. “You can’t handle the competition?”

  “Very funny.” Milo looked caught between throwing something at me and backing away slowly.

  “I second Milo on this one,” Jax said. “I can’t handle a world where there are two of him.”

  I laughed, but when Milo started forward again, his palm raised and sparking, I held up a hand. “Okay, okay, I promise never to be you again.”

  “Thank the Angel for that,” Jax said.

  Milo shot him a dirty look then flounced haughtily into the empty chair across from me.

  “If you promise not to use my middle name,” I added.

  “Ugh. Deal.” Milo unwrapped a burger and took a huge bite then moaned. “This should be illegal,” he said around a mouthful of food.

  “I mean, considering we’re fugitives right now, pretty much everything we do is illegal,” I told him. “Even eating.”

  Milo snorted then took another bite. “Burgers this good are definitely a crime.”

  “You said that about the breakfast this morning,” Jax said dryly.

  “Don’t act like you’re better than us,” I warned him. “You scarfed down two burgers on the elevator ride alone.”

  “So what?” Jax said. “I can multi-task. It’s the mark of good parenting.”

  I rolled my eyes, pretending I hadn’t noticed the mysterious phone call
he’d stepped out to take. Or the way his security people never said anything in front of me. It reminded me of Z. An insecurity I could work out later. Or never.

  “Can we get back to the plan?” I asked. “You know, the part where we get back out there and take down an evil Nephilim trying to kill me?”

  “We have a deal,” Jax reminded me. “No leaving until we all agree on the next step.”

  “And until Adrik and Gran return,” Milo added.

  “How am I supposed to sleep with everything going on?” I asked.

  Jax’s eyes gleamed. “I’m sure I could think of something that would wear you out.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” I said tightly.

  I grabbed a fry and shoved it into my mouth to distract myself from the buzzing in my lady parts.

  Milo grinned knowingly and took another bite of his burger.

  For the next few minutes, I concentrated on Fergie. Not hard, considering the mess she’d made with the ketchup. I’d forgotten how she’d worn just as much as she’d consumed when she took down Patrice. This looked kind of similar.

  Ketchup, ketchup, ketchup, I repeated to myself as I wiped her down.

  When I started to pull away, she grabbed my cheeks with her palms and pressed her slimy mouth to chin.

  “Mwah.”

  The kiss was wet. And disgusting. And from a demon.

  But my heart warmed anyway.

  “Momma,” she said when she pulled away, and I found myself smiling back at her like a dope.

  “Awww, she kissed me,” I said, glancing up. “And called me Momma.”

  Milo stared back, looking slightly horrified. But Jax strode forward, a proud smile on his handsome mouth.

  “That’s our girl.” He scooped Fergie into his arms, tossing her high, and she shrieked with laughter. “A sweetheart and a genius.”

  “Yeah, a real prodigy,” Milo muttered.

  I resisted the temptation to shift into his doppelganger again. “Whatever, don’t hate just because you don’t have a genius demon baby,” I told him, shoving his words back at him.

  “Oh, yeah, I’m green with envy—”

  From the hall came a muted thud.

  We all froze, silent and listening.

  A second later, a familiar voice floated toward us from the direction of the bedrooms. “Butter my ass and call me a biscuit, is that Roadburger I smell?”

  Gran rounded the corner, a tiny pinprick of a bug buzzing toward me. She headed straight for the table so fast that she nearly plowed into Fergie’s abandoned ketchup smear before catching herself at the last minute. She landed, instead, on the wrapper of my burger.

  “Woohoo, it is Roadburger,” she cawed. “Where’s mine? I want a double stack.”

  “Here, I saved you some of mine.” I pushed my fry container at her, which still held two fries and several crumbs from my burger.

  “The hell?! This ain’t no double-stack. This here’s a zero-stack,” Gran protested, but I tuned her out, knowing full well she wouldn’t even manage to finish that.

  Her ranting was washed out by the sight of Adrik rounding the corner into the open living room. Black jeans hung low and lazy off his chiseled hips. His shirt was clean, and his hair hung over his forehead, still damp from a shower. Even from here, I could smell him, and my fae senses were practically writhing with pleasure. No cologne. Just…Adrik.

  His eyes sought me out and never wavered once they landed on mine. His expression remained hard as stone, but I’d come to know him well enough to see the relief behind his stoic stare.

  He was glad to see me.

  Or maybe just glad to see me alive.

  I’d take it.

  I licked my lips, trying to act unaffected. But the sight of him standing there, onyx wings tucked away, amid all the contrasting gray-and-black tones that cut through the modern lines of Jax’s luxury penthouse was strangely fitting.

  The charged silence between us might have been less awkward if there weren’t a room full of people witnessing it. Including the owner of said penthouse—who currently wanted to “wear me out” before bed.

  Milo cleared his throat. “Glad you two made it back.”

  I blinked, tearing my gaze from the Nephilim who made my ovaries ache.

  “Yeah,” I said in a voice that didn’t sound like mine.

  I looked over at Gran in time to witness her burp hard enough to send her stumbling with the momentum.

  “Take it easy,” I warned her.

  “Roadburger isn’t something you take easy,” she said. “You gotta go hard with this stuff or you ain’t doing it right.”

  Milo held up his Coke. “Amen to that.”

  Her words were enough to end whatever tension I felt, so I looked back at Adrik, this time with all my brain cells (mostly) intact.

  “You hungry?” I asked, gesturing to the bag of food.

  He shook his head and remained where he was. “I’m good.”

  “Well, if you change your mind.” I shrugged then asked the question that really mattered. “How’d it go?”

  “Wolfrick and Tony are fine,” he said. “The house’s wards are still intact.”

  “And Fiona?”

  “She went home to get some things and sleep for a bit, but Wolfrick says she’ll be back tomorrow. Tony remained calm and clear-headed during her visit.”

  Milo and I exchanged a look.

  “That’s good,” I said.

  At least we had a trick up our sleeve until we could come up with a cure.

  “You going to hit up your buddy Faith soon for that cure?” Milo said, echoing my thoughts.

  I sighed. “Adrik’s tried looking for her, but she hasn’t been to work in days.”

  “That Faith girl needs a good smack,” Gran piped up.

  “He means call her, Gran. Not physically assault her.”

  “Well, she could stand to have some manners instilled in her hide. No one ghosts my granddaughter.”

  Milo chuckled.

  “I don’t think Faith is open to instruction from me,” I said. And to Milo, “I’d love to, but I don’t know where she lives, and it’s not like I can wander around until I spot her.” I looked around the room. “None of us can.”

  “Maybe you could send a message,” Jax said. “Through your friend.”

  “My…?”

  “The woman who came to the window at Milo’s mother’s apartment,” he prompted.

  He meant Starla.

  “Right,” I said. “My friend. Yeah, I don’t actually know how to contact her either.”

  I hadn’t given it much thought what with the chaos of my life, but it was a little strange that Starla hadn’t popped up. She usually had an uncanny knack for finding me even when no one else could.

  “Who came to my mom’s?” Milo demanded. “And why didn’t you tell me?”

  I shot Jax an accusatory glare.

  “We need someone who doesn’t have a target on their back,” Jax pointed out.

  I scowled. “I hate when you make sense.”

  By now, everyone had turned to look at me, and I could feel the questions about to be tossed my way.

  “Fine, if you must know, I’ve been gathering information for a member of the SSF.”

  “You’re a double agent?” Milo screeched.

  “No,” I said quickly. “I like to think of it as a side hustle. Like a second job.”

  “You know, I think side hustles are smart. I keep seeing those little crocheted throw pillows on Etsy. You know, the ones with cute curse words on ’em. I could do that. Make some side money.”

  “Gran, it’s only side money if you also have main money.”

  “I have main money,” she said with a sniff.

  “Stealing dollars from the tip jar at the dive bar down the street doesn’t count,” I pointed out.

  “Buzzkill,” she muttered and went back to licking the fry I’d left out for her.

  “So, this agency friend,” Adrik said, entirely too s
erious. “Who is it?”

  Damn.

  “I can’t say,” I said, and his perma-scowl deepened. “Before you argue or threaten me, I have to tell you that I made a vow of silence before taking this assignment. I don’t plan to break it for anyone.”

  “She has something on you,” Jax said flatly.

  “No,” I scoffed, “of course not.”

  “What did she promise you?” Adrik asked.

  Double damn.

  “Nothing. Look, you’re not the only one who knew the council was corrupt. I was approached during my time at the Tiff and offered to help.” I hesitated then added, “I recently learned Faith is helping them too.”

  “Wow,” Milo said. “Never thought I’d see the day that brownnoser went against her ten-year plan.”

  I thought of the way Faith had faced down that demon inside my apartment. And how she’d somehow gotten a list for Starla I hadn’t been able to get a whiff of. “I’m starting to think there’s more to her than we thought.”

  “Does that mean she’ll get what we need for Tony?” Milo asked.

  “Maybe. First, we have to find her.”

  “Which brings us back to the whole wanted fugitive thing.” Milo sighed and shook his empty Coke, rattling the ice with a look of disappointment.

  “I’ll find her,” Adrik said, and my stomach did a weird little flip that gave me a mental image of Faith and Adrik doing unspeakable things together.

  Things I’d murder Faith for.

  Things that made me want to break something.

  Insecure? Yes. Petty? Damn right. But Faith was a vamp, which meant the “undead” in her made her immune to Adrik’s whole sex-can-kill energy.

  “No way,” I blurted. Then added, “I mean, you’re a fugitive just like the rest of us. You can’t afford to be spotted.”

  His expression lightened into something like a smirk—if that were possible without moving one’s lips. “I spent most of the day at the Delta building with no issue. I can stay out of sight.”

  I pressed my lips together just in case they got any ideas about voicing the details of my weirdo-jealous anxiety.

  “Tony needs our help,” Milo said resolutely. He looked at Adrik. “If you can find Faith, it would mean a lot to Gem and me.”

  I glared at him.

  “What?” Milo asked.