The Medusa Files, Case 1: Written in Stone

by C. I. Black

  “Yes, I am.” And that terrified her. She could have killed Gage. She would have killed him if Lachlin hadn’t knocked her out.

  “But you haven’t gone crazy and you held it together when faced with the pit beast.”

  “I hear it was just a lesser one.”

  Lachlin barked a soft sensual laugh. Everything about him, even when he was being a prick, was sexy. “You really are a snake charmer.”

  “I wish you’d stop calling me that.”

  He offered her a lazy smile. “I mean it with my best intentions.”

  “Which is awfully close to your worst intentions, I’m sure.” Outside, Gage shifted and Rika slid a pair of tweezers out of Clayton’s chest, removing a bullet. “Shouldn’t he be in the hospital.” Or dead. And where was the blood? Admittedly, his jacket was black and soaked with rain, but he should be lying in a pool of blood given how many times he’d been hit.

  “He’ll heal. It’ll take a while, though. Bullets disrupt the magic sustaining him.”

  “I don’t understand what that means.”

  The smile returned. “I know you don’t, Kitten.” He set her gun on the armrest between the front seats, opened his door, and got out.

  “Prick.”

  “Wouldn’t you like to find out.” He sauntered away, oozing bad boy sex.

  Morgan bit back a sigh, grabbed her gun, and eased out of the SUV but didn’t chase after him. Instead, she holstered her sidearm and leaned against the vehicle. Its front end had crumpled against the pillar and blood slicked the crushed hood. The pit beast lay in a heap between the SUV and the pillar, still a terrifying monster of teeth and claws even if it was dead.

  This was her world now. Whether she wanted it or not, this was her new reality.

  She snorted. Reality was overrated.

  White lightning shot through her chest and she hugged her ribs. They really hurt, which meant they had to be at the very least cracked. But Gage was right. If they didn’t figure out where Kate was, the chances of finding her alive, or at all, grew even more slim.

  Gage glanced up from Rika and Clayton. His gaze caught Morgan’s and she pulled her attention to her feet. She was dangerous and it was foolish of her to have forgotten that. She’d just been so caught up with the thrill of the hunt and her determination to save her friend. She could never afford to forget that again. Next time Lachlin might not be around to knock her out. In reality, she should be locked up for everyone’s safety.

  Footsteps crunched in the wet gravel, and Gage’s army boots stepped into sight.

  She didn’t know what to say. How did someone apologize for almost turning a person to stone? ‘I’m sorry’ just didn’t seem enough.

  His hand eased into sight, holding a pair of sunglasses. “You lost these.”

  “I think I need more than a pair of sunglasses.” A locked psych ward would probably be a good idea.

  “A little bit of practice might help as well.”

  “More than just a little.” To do that, she had to accept what she was. And really, that was the only way she could guarantee anyone’s safety. Locking herself away only made her a bomb that could explode at the slightest provocation.

  “We’ll help you with this.” He shifted closer and his sensual scent wrapped around her. “I’ll help you.”

  She flicked her gaze up—she couldn’t help herself—and met his bottomless brown eyes. A glimmer of the power and darkness she’d sensed earlier burned there. He was dangerous, too. Perhaps more dangerous than she was.

  He didn’t flinch from her gaze, holding it instead, holding her. She could have killed him back in the tunnel and she could kill him now, but he remained focused on her as if he knew her. Or perhaps he just knew what it was like to be her. Something she wasn’t even sure about anymore.

  She dragged her attention to Clayton and the others. “Is he going to be all right?” She couldn’t believe she was asking that, but now the impossible was entirely possible.

  “He’ll be out of commission for a while. His magic will have to focus on healing his body, but he’ll be fine. The only thing that can drop him is a powerful magic-voiding spell, or an inferno.”

  “Really?”

  “He’s a golem. A magically animated wooden statue to be precise, although there’s more to him than meets the eye. He’s got too much personality for just a golem.”

  “Of course he does.” Now she really needed to read that encyclopedia back at Gage’s house.

  “Now come on.” He pressed the sunglasses into her hand. “We need to figure out where your friend is and we’re running short on time.”

  “You should send me back to the house.”

  “That’s what Lachlin would say.”

  “In this case, I think he’s right.” She put on the glasses but didn’t feel reassured.

  “I’ll do that once we figure out where your friend is. Right now, let’s focus on finding anything that might help. Come on.” He headed to the silver truck.

  Focus on the job. She could do that. Kate needed her to do that. She drew in a steadying breath, sending stabbing pain shooting through her chest. Right, don’t do that. “Do we have identification on the two men?”

  “The boar ogre’s identification was destroyed, but he was definitely Rentz’s muscle back at the Whale and Ale.”

  “Which means Rentz could still be involved in this.”

  “Yes. But so far we’ve found no connection with the bakeneko.”

  “Bakeneko?”

  “A cat-like race. Most of the myths about them are from Japan, hence the Japanese name, but they aren’t exclusive to the area.” Gage opened the silver truck’s driver’s side door. Cat-man, the bakeneko, sagged on the passenger side, his eyes wide and empty. There was nothing indicating how he died. “And unfortunately, the only way Lachlin could stop him was to blast his mind.”

  Morgan glanced over the truck to Lachlin. He looked up as if he knew she was watching him and offered a wry smile. When this was over, she needed to find out what everyone could do. Clayton could survive being shot repeatedly in the chest, Lachlin seemed to know what she was thinking, and Gage… there was more to Gage than he let on. But all of them gave off an air of secrecy, a desire not to be exposed, and she had a feeling she’d have to tread lightly when asking questions.

  Gage pulled out a wad of receipts and used burger wrappers from the tray beneath the steering wheel. “And we have no idea if this is from the kidnappers or the actual owner of the truck.”

  “So we have nothing.” They had less than nothing.

  Something dinged and Rika straightened. “The algorithm on the photo is done.”

  Please let there be a clue.

  Rika handed the tweezers to Clayton, who didn’t look hurt at all, rushed to Lachlin’s SUV, and pulled out her tablet. “We got something, but I’m not sure it’ll help.”

  Morgan and Gage joined her. The picture of Kate was now brighter and sharper. The wall behind her was still dark, but it was clear it was cinderblock flecked with hints of peeling paint. There had to be something here, some small detail that would indicate where Kate was.

  “There’s a hint of a door along the right side.” Rika drew her fingers across the tablet, made the picture larger, and shifted it to reveal the edge of a heavy door.

  Gage leaned closer. “That door is too industrial looking for a house basement.”

  “So warehouse, maybe?” Rika said.

  Morgan stared at the picture. There was something on the door, the line of a symbol, or something.

  “It would have to be abandoned or owned by one of the kidnappers for no one to have noticed anything,” Gage said.

  “What’s that on the door?” Morgan asked. It curved. Two lines running side by side with one… no, two lines running between them.

  Rika enlarged the picture even more.

  “What is that?” Gage asked.

  There were more than two lines. They only had the edge of the image, it was barely notice
able, but it looked like… “A waterwheel.”

  “Doesn’t the old Black Mill distillery use the waterwheel as part of its symbol?” Rika asked.

  “Yes, and we saw a bottle of that on Rentz’s table.” Which didn’t make Rentz more or less of a suspect. Tusk-man, the ogre, would have seen the bottle as well. Anyone familiar with the north side of town knew the old Black Mill distillery was on the river’s edge because the symbol was painted on the side of the building. Rumor had it the company was planning something with the abandoned property, but there’d been mention of that from the moment Black Mill had moved to their new facility closer to the expressway fifteen years ago.

  Rika tapped on her tablet and pulled up an aerial map of the area. “With the property that size, it would be easy to keep someone there without drawing attention.”

  The distillery’s building was on a full acre of property, now mostly overgrown, on the edge of town. It sat in the river’s narrow valley below the Rosemount Bridge, and its closest neighbor was a farmhouse on the other side of the river and up the rise.

  “It’s the best we’ve got. Rika, you stay with Clayton and continue searching the bakeneko for anything else. Lachlin, Morgan, you’re with me.”

  Morgan turned to the SUV and its destroyed front. “We have no vehicle.”

  Gage strode to the truck, opened the passenger side door, and pulled out Cat-man’s body. “Yes, we do.”

  “This is a terrible idea,” Lachlin said. “She shouldn’t be coming with us.”

  “I agree. I’ll stay with Rika and Clayton.” As much as she wanted to be a part of this, it wasn’t safe for Gage or Lachlin.

  “This isn’t up for debate. You can keep it together, Morgan. Besides, if they have a second pit beast, Lachlin and I will need all the help we can get.” Gage got into the truck and slid across the bench to the driver’s side.

  “Speak for yourself,” Lachlin said, but he motioned for Morgan to get in. “Really, the odds of them having a second pit beast are impossible.”

  “Still not odds,” Clayton said.

  Lachlin glared at Clayton, but it felt half-hearted. Morgan climbed in and Lachlin followed, wedging her between him and Gage.

  She was not going to think about how close they were.

  Gage turned on the ignition and gunned it onto Lexington. If they were wrong about the distillery, Kate would likely be dead, but it was the only lead they had. And if Gage was wrong about Morgan, he could be dead as well.

  CHAPTER 11

  Morgan got out of the truck. Rain ran down her neck beneath her collar and beaded on the sunglasses. They were going to be a real pain in this weather, but she wasn’t going to risk taking them off again. Gage had parked at the mouth of the long, forested road leading to the distillery, so they could approach on foot and hopefully have the element of surprise.

  “I borrowed a nearby satellite,” Rika said over the earpiece. “I can’t keep it for long, but I can confirm there are no heat signatures outside the building.”

  “I’m sensing that as well,” Lachlin said.

  Gage drew his side arm. “What about inside?”

  “There are two near the northwest corner,” Rika said.

  Lachlin closed his eyes and frowned. “One is definitely human. She’s conscious, angry, and planning. I don’t think she’s hurt, or if she is, it isn’t consuming her thoughts. I can’t tell what the other one is. I’m getting nothing from him other than a presence.”

  “Well, that narrows the list down to about two dozen Kin,” Gage said.

  Lachlin snorted. “And let’s not forget the handful who I can’t sense and won’t show up on Rika’s scan.”

  “So even though we’ve checked, there’s still a possibility we’re going in blind and we have no idea what we’re up against?” Morgan drew her side arm.

  Gage raised an eyebrow.

  “That’s about right,” Rika said. “And I’ve got nothing more from our known kidnappers that could help.”

  “All right, eyes open, ready for anything.” Gage glanced at Morgan’s gun again. “Lachlin, take the rear. Morgan, in the middle. Your focus is Kate. Once we find her, get her out of there. We’ll cover you.”

  She nodded and turned her attention to the thicket of branches from the winter-barren shrubs and trees, searching for signs of assailants or traps. Going in with Gage and Lachlin was a terrible idea. She couldn’t control her powers and she was just as likely to kill one of them, or Kate, as she was the kidnapper.

  At the thought, fire licked around her eyes. Damn it. Stay calm. She could do this. She really had no choice in the matter.

  She hustled up the road with the guys, ignoring the rain as best she could, her senses straining. A hundred yards down, the road curved and opened into an overgrown lot with the sagging distillery building at the back.

  Dead stalks of weeds and grass claimed most of the wide gravel area in front. The building, a three-story structure, sagged, tired and weather-worn, at the river’s edge. The remains of the waterwheel, the symbol of the distillery, jutted over the rushing water, swollen with the day’s rain. Grey boards covered the few windows on this side of the building on the first floor and half of the windows on the second floor.

  It didn’t look as if there was an available entrance on the front and they would be exposed to anyone looking out a window if they approached. Their team wasn’t large enough to split for multiple entries and their time was short. The longer they took, the greater the chance any remaining kidnappers would realize their friends had failed—if they hadn’t figured it out already… and if, in fact, the heat signatures inside were a kidnapper and Kate.

  “Can’t see the east wall,” Lachlin said.

  “Only other logical place for a door.” Gage inched closer. “Are both heat signatures on the northwest side?”

  “Yes,” Rika said.

  “Good. Fast and quiet.” Gage motioned them into action.

  They rushed across the lot to the south face of the building, their footsteps crunching in the gravel.

  Adrenaline beat through Morgan and the fire in her eyes flickered in response. But the usual thrill of the chase was missing. Kate was in danger…

  And Morgan was a danger.

  They reached the shelter of the south wall, which provided some respite from the downpour. Lachlin examined the forest behind them while Gage glanced around the corner. Morgan strained to hear anything inside. Nothing. The only sounds were the rush of rain and the hiss of wind in the trees.

  “Emotionally, nothing has changed inside,” Lachlin said, his voice soft.

  “Loading dock, thirty feet down.” Gage jerked his chin at the corner.

  “What are the odds they’ll be expecting that?” Morgan asked. If whoever planned the kidnapping had a clue, they would be prepared for Gage and his team. If the kidnappers were amateurs, the odds were less, but anything was possible.

  Lachlin shrugged. “With the way our luck has been going, I’d say whoever’s inside knew we were coming the moment we hit the driveway.”

  “Glad we have Mr. Positive on our side,” Morgan said.

  Gage shot her a wry smile. “He has his uses.” He rushed around the corner, forcing Morgan and Lachlin to follow in silence and keep formation.

  A concrete slab jutted from the side of the building about thirty feet away, as promised. Beyond it, half a wooden shed leaned against the building. The other half was a pile of wood and stone debris.

  Gage hopped onto the loading dock platform. Morgan eased up behind him, mindful of her ribs. Sagging, broken doors stood partially open, revealing a dark interior. She tipped her sunglasses down. Machinery and shelves and things Morgan couldn’t identify in the gloom loomed around them. She wasn’t going to be able to see anything with the shades on, which meant she was going to have to go in without them. Just great.

  “This way.” Gage motioned them forward.

  Morgan shoved the sunglasses into her jacket pocket. She followed Gage, creep
ing into a vast, three-story space toward a massive, towering vat. Pipes ran from it, snaking above them, disappearing into the darkness.

  Pale bands of grey light cut this way and that from the boarded and broken windows, making it difficult to see what was in the deepest shadows, and rain rattled on the tin roof, making it impossible to hear the soft sound of anyone hiding nearby.

  Something flickered at the edge of her vision. She glanced back and Lachlin frowned. The grey light from the partially open door framed him, accentuating his sleek build. Fog curled along the floor, snaking around his feet.

  Except the fog didn’t look right… maybe? It seemed too dark for fog, more like smoke, and yet in the gloom it was hard to tell.

  Lachlin’s frown deepened and his gaze followed hers to his feet. His eyes widened. “Ah, shit.”

  The smoke turned into a shadowy clawed hand, seized his ankle and jerked up, tumbling him forward into Morgan.

  She grabbed him, her ribs screaming in protest, but the smoky hand yanked him back, throwing him to the ground.

  The rest of the smoke coalesced into a human shape, a man about Lachlin’s size. Red eyes glowed from a cloudy face with a sharp nose and elongated canines.

  Morgan pointed her gun at the smoke-man as Lachlin twisted and kicked. Lachlin’s foot passed through the creature’s body, drawing a laugh.

  Gage grabbed Morgan’s shoulder and pulled her back. “It’s a smoke demon. I’d say your friend is here.”

  Lachlin jerked against the hand still holding his ankle. Gage’s fire whip crackled to life and snapped through Smoke-man’s arm. The demon’s body lost shape and the smoke pulsed, expanding as if with each breath. Lachlin wrenched free and scrambled back. The smoke billowed and split, forming two smoke-men.

  “Get moving.” Gage cut his whip through both smoke-men. They burst apart and reformed.

  Lachlin fired into one of them, the bullet passing through it. They laughed together and the one Lachlin had shot leapt at him, a solid fist cracking him in the jaw. The other split, becoming two and split again.