by Sandy James
“Who texted you?” Megan asked, trying to peek at his screen.
“Not a text. An alarm. We’ve got another girl missing.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah. Shit.”
“Where’s she from? Aurora? Like the other girls.”
Tapping a few commands, he tried to get more information. “Not Aurora. Looks like this girl’s from Naperville.”
“Close enough.” She started gathering her equipment and shoving it in her duffel. “So we go to Naperville and see if we can find a trail that leads to Maksim Popov.”
After he snatched his towel up, he stuffed it in his bag while he considered his options. If he let her go with him, he’d have a chance to see her work. On the other hand, she still had the potential to lose control. This might be one mission he’d be better off working alone until he had a handle on just how unrestrained Megan was.
“Joeman? We’re going, right?”
No way he could exclude her this time. Plus, the more he saw how she worked a case, the better he could help her. “Yeah, we’re going.”
* * *
Megan was grateful Johann had given her such a great fight. Her muscles burned, but the other fire that could have easily been popping from her fingers or her hair stayed dormant because she was exhausted.
Not that she expected to need her powers. This mission was a waste of time. The missing girl had already turned up. Police had acted on an anonymous tip and found her at a truck stop with a creepy guy she’d met in a chat room.
Since they were already near Aurora, Megan proposed they try to figure out where Maksim Popov was staying and tail him for a few hours. Johann had agreed, which came as a surprise. At least he was willing to listen to her ideas.
When she was in Avalon, she’d learned to keep her suggestions to herself. Artair liked to be in charge and didn’t take it well when she offered her opinion. He always listened to Rebecca, though. He had to. She was not only the Amazons’ Guardian but his wife.
Sparks had been another Fire, which made her bossy. Megan had always deferred, not contradicting someone she admired so much.
Damn it all if those excuses didn’t smack of rationalizing her own cowardice. She hadn’t avoided speaking her mind because she was afraid Artair or Sparks wouldn’t listen. She’d kept her mouth shut because she was afraid to be wrong and get her sisters or her Sentinels killed.
Just like she’d let her partner kill that kid.
“He’s gotta be about ready to go,” Johann said. “He’s been in that restaurant for almost two hours.” Then his stomach growled.
She found a smile. “Hungry?”
“Starving.”
“Me too. Wanna grab some Taco Bell?”
“Fast food? I’ll pass. Thinking about a nice steak. Look…there’s Popov.”
The Sentinel had fantastic eyesight. All Megan saw was a guy with long hair striding from the restaurant into a waiting limo, followed closely by a shorter guy. “You’re sure?”
“Positive. That’s Popov and his assistant.”
“Then let’s go after him.” She fired up the Mercedes and eased out of the parking spot.
The limousine was two cars ahead, taking a leisurely pace in the late-night Chicago traffic. All of her training came back—how far to distance her car, how to vary her speed so the limo driver wouldn’t pick up on her tailing behind.
“Like riding a bike, isn’t it?”
She chuckled, not shocked that Johann knew about her past. “Yeah, it is. Although I thought only Rebecca and Sparks knew I was a cop.”
“No, you told Artair.”
“I did?”
The conversation she’d had with her sister and her first Guardian had been early in her training. They’d talked about their lives before being Amazons, and Megan had shared a little of her time as a police officer. She hadn’t realized Artair was listening in.
“Yeah,” Johann replied. “But even if he hadn’t, I’ve have seen your records. I’m your Sentinel, after all.”
“Artie’s my Sentinel.” Then she processed what he’d said. “What records?”
“You think I’m going into training a bunch of superstrong women without doing a good background check? You’d be amazed what I can find on the Internet without magical help, let alone what I can discover with it.”
Her heart seized. Not that her past was too colorful… But to have him know everything about her? “Wh-what did you find?”
“Relax, Megan.”
She snorted. “You’re telling me to relax? After finding out you’re snooping into my life?”
“There were just some things I needed to know. Like about your partner and what happened to that kid.”
He’d said it in such a matter of fact voice. No emotion. No recrimination.
“You know about…that?”
“Yeah.”
Why were the memories still so fresh? “I should’ve saved that kid.”
“From what I read, no one blames you.”
“I blame me. It was my partner who shot him.”
“Exactly. Your partner. Not you.”
She shook her head. “Same diff. Partners are supposed to act as one and trust each other.”
Trust. The hardest thing in the world for her to give.
No wonder. When she’d trusted her partner, he’d betrayed that trust by ignoring everything she’d told him about Hector Fuentes.
And Hector had died.
“Megan…cut yourself some slack. You can’t save the world.” He chuckled. “Well, maybe you can now. But you did everything you could that day. You were a damn good cop.”
“Careful, Joeman. That sounded like a compliment.” Sharing the burden with him somehow made it a little lighter. “Did you play Sherlock Holmes with my sisters too?”
“Of course. I needed to know about all you girls.”
Narrowing her eyes, she shot him a sidelong glare. “Don’t call us girls.”
He held up his hands. “Fine. Fine. Relax.”
“You know what, Joeman? You always seem to know exactly how to piss me off.”
“What did I do now?”
“If you tell me to relax or rein it in one more time—Shit. They’re pulling off here.”
Not good. This area was dark and empty, and the limo driver would have to be a fucking idiot not to notice a Mercedes following into such an isolated area. She jerked the steering wheel to go the opposite direction of the limousine.
“Where are you going?” Johann asked. “Stay with him.”
“Nope. We’re parking for now and going on foot from here.”
* * *
“See anything?”
“Not yet.” Megan strained, trying to make herself taller.
It wasn’t easy. Standing on Johann’s shoulders was tough enough. Stretching up on tiptoes only made her less steady. But the window into the warehouse was so high, this was the only solution. She had to find out exactly who Popov was there to see.
The inside was dank and dark—like the setting of some cheesy spy movie. The alley smelled of trash and human waste.
“I still think this threat’s an Ancient,” she insisted. “In fact, I’m sure of it. Call it Amazon intuition, if you want, but—”
“Keep your voice down.”
“No one can hear us. Trust me.” This time, when she stretched, she bobbled on his shoulders. “Damn it, Joeman! Don’t let me fall.”
Johann slipped his hands farther up her legs to wrap them around her thighs. “I’ve got you. You’re safe with me.”
Those words calmed her. She was safe with Johann, just like back in another warehouse, in another city, when he’d rescued her.
Movement caught her eye. “Popov’s here.�
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The singer strode into the light and then just stood there. His assistant hung back, halfway hidden by the shadows.
“What’s he doing?” Johann asked.
“Waiting.”
“Then so will we.”
Settling in, she was ready to stake out the site until a squeak and a rustle made her startle. “Was that a rat?”
“Probably.”
“I hate rats.” The words were no sooner out of her mouth than she saw a fat rodent scurry across the gutter—coming right at her.
She squealed, throwing a fireball at the dirty creature, catching its fur on fire. The rat fell from the gutter to land on the pavement at Johann’s feet, nothing but a burning carcass.
Johann almost dropped her as he stomped the remaining flames.
Megan’s balance on her shoulders was precarious enough when he stood still. His dancing around the burning rat made her lean like a chopped tree about to fall. “Hey. Stand still. I can’t see inside anymore.”
“Get down from there. Now.”
“But I haven’t seen who’s coming to meet—”
“Now, Megan.”
Grumbling all the way to the ground, she obeyed. “What’s your problem?”
“What in the hell were you thinking?” His hands were on his hips as he glared down at her. “Using your powers? They’ll see us.”
She rolled her eyes. “No one’s gonna see us.”
“You threw fire! Of course they’ll—” He sniffed.
She’d smelled it too—the disgusting and ominous odor of decaying flesh.
“Smells like—”
“Revenants.” She pulled her dagger, wishing she had her sword.
Instead of reaching for a weapon, he grabbed her hand and tugged. “We’re getting out of here.”
The first zombie stumbled toward them, smack in the middle of the alley they needed to use for retreat. Whether Johann wanted to fight or not, there was no choice.
Megan jerked her hand free and charged.
“Megan! Wait!”
As she got closer, she realized her mistake. In the dark, she hadn’t seen the rest of the revenants who were now joining the first. And they weren’t class threes—thoroughly decomposed and not much of a threat—like she’d assumed. They were ones, fresh from the grave and ready for the kill.
Someone with great power was behind Popov, but she’d lost her chance to find out who.
Johann was at her side in the blink of an eye. He plunged his dagger into the first revenant’s skull.
More zombies piled into the alley, and the futility of the situation hit her. Exhausted or not, she needed her powers. Her fear for Johann gave her strength. “Back up, Johann. Now.”
“A little busy.”
“Back the fuck up!”
The Sentinel did as she asked. The moment he was out of range, Megan thrust her hands out, sending streams of fire from her palms, turning her into a human flamethrower. Whoever was in the warehouse would see the bright light, but at that moment, she didn’t give a damn. She was getting Johann out of there safely.
One by one, the revenants dropped. As soon as a path cleared, she closed her hands into fists to stop the fire. “Follow me.”
* * *
“Damn it,” Johann muttered as he sprinted after Megan. She’d done it again, and this time, they’d both been put in danger.
They had to dodge the burning zombies, but at least they were getting away. The moment she’d fried that rat, he’d known they were in a world of trouble. Popov had to have magical backing, and no one would ignore the burst of flames. The revenants’ appearance confirmed that someone with power—a demigod, a necromancer, even an Ancient—was behind the singer’s rise. Megan’s impulsiveness had cost them their best chance of figuring out who’d helped Popov, and she’d endangered them both.
No wonder the goddesses were so pissed.
They ran back to her car. Megan held the remote but didn’t unlock the doors.
“We need to go,” he insisted.
“I don’t want that smell in my Mercedes.”
“What smell?”
“Revenants. Worse, burned revenants. I’ll never get that stench out.”
“Get your ass in that car,” he barked like a general giving orders. “We’re getting out of here.”
“Don’t tell me what to do!” Sparks shot from her fingertips.
So much for her learning control. “I’m your Sentinel. I tell you to jump, you ask me how high.”
“Fuck that.”
He growled low in his throat. “Get in the car, Megan. Now. We’re getting out of here.”
She kept mumbling under her breath as she crawled into the driver’s seat, slamming the door hard enough to make the car shake.
She hadn’t even started the engine before his temper got the better of him. “What in the hell were you thinking? Don’t you know what’s at stake?” The last words were a slip. Hopefully, she wouldn’t realize he’d meant that her future as an Amazon was at risk.
“We didn’t have our swords. Daggers weren’t going to cut it with that many revenants. So, yeah, I knew what was at stake and I was thinking I’d get you out of there in one piece.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about. What were you thinking when you burned up that rat?”
She shuddered. “God, I hate rats.”
“I noticed. The one you set on fire brought revenants down our throats. And thanks to your phobia, we don’t have a clue who’s behind Popov.”
“An Ancient.”
“What?”
“My money’s on an Ancient.”
Johann shook his head. “We’re not jumping to any conclusions. It could be a demon.”
Her features hardened. “You never listen to me. If I’d have said it was a demon, you would’ve said it was an Ancient. By the way, the sky’s blue, Joeman.”
The woman was picking the wrong fight. This had nothing to do with who was giving Popov power—this was about Megan always thinking she was right. “Not right now it’s not.”
“See? All you really want to do is fight with me.”
“I’m not fighting, I’m stating a fact. It’s nighttime, and the sky is black. I’m also stating a fact when I say you need to look before you leap. A rat isn’t a threat. You shot fire before you even thought about what it would do to our mission. Same thing you did with Penyardin.”
“You’re never gonna let that go, are you?”
“I will when I know you’ve learned something from that mistake—just like I want you to learn from this one. Now, we’re back to square one.”
She shook her head. “No, we’re not. We know it’s Popov. He killed those girls.”
“You were a cop.”
“I was a bad cop.”
“I told you before, that’s bullshit. You were fantastic. Get yourself back in that mindset and think about the facts instead of leading with your heart. You want to nail Popov? Then tell me, what evidence do we have—not assumptions, but hard evidence that could be used in a courtroom?”
“The tickets.”
“And?”
“He’s prowling around abandoned warehouses in the middle of the night.”
Johann glanced at his watch for effect. “It’s eleven o’clock. Hardly the middle of the night.”
A couple of weak sparks shot from her hair.
“Seriously, Megan. Could you arrest him on what we’ve got?”
“My Amazon intuition—”
“Answer the question.”
She nibbled on her bottom lip for a moment. “No. Okay? No. Happy now? You made me feel stupid.”
“No, I’m making you think.”
It was a good start.
Megan woke to the scent of coffee calling to her like a siren’s song. She hadn’t had any nightmares—not even about rats—and wondered at that miracle. Perhaps having another person in the condo was comforting. She didn’t want to admit that Johann brought about her peaceful night. No, anyone else would have helped too.
Yeah, right.
Stumbling into the kitchen, she stopped short.
The place was immaculate. No dirty dishes in the sink. No pile of fast-food cartons. The attached living room was neat as pin down to the crocheted afghan being folded over the back of the couch. How he’d run the vacuum without waking her was beyond understanding. She had no clue where she even stored the vacuum cleaner.
She grabbed a ceramic mug from the cup tree and poured herself some of the coffee. The first taste of hazelnut made her sigh. Breakfast was laid out on the kitchen island. A wheat bagel and a banana. Johann was playing Sentinel again, trying to get her to eat healthy. Once she smeared the bagel with a boatload of butter, it would be edible.
She put her cup down, tore the bagel into halves and shoved them in the toaster he’d placed on the counter, the one she’d never bothered to take out of the box. Opening the door to the refrigerator, she searched for butter. Instead of the normal moldy leftovers and take-out cartons, Megan was greeted by a smorgasbord of food. A gallon of milk. Fruit. Several packages of meat. Yogurt. Eggs. And butter. She grabbed the small tub and turned back to the island.
How in the hell had he managed all this? The cleanup. The breakfast. The shopping. Glancing up at the clock, she almost dropped the plastic tub.
Noon. She’d slept the better part of the day away. Perhaps a little sloth was worth the strength she’d gained. No doubt, she’d be having restless nights again soon, especially when Johann went back to Avalon.
After spreading her bagel with the butter, she grabbed her coffee and a banana. As she headed toward her computer to check her e-mail, a note caught her eye.
Out for a jog and to do some recon. Need to buy a tux for the party tonight. Meet you at the art museum at eight. Be on time. For once. And dress up. J
Thinking of the dress Freya had given her, Megan’s stomach knotted. She had no idea how she’d look in the ridiculously fancy dress. She didn’t know how to be a lady, and she had no idea what he’d think when he saw her in something that would make her feel like a fish out of water.
