Chase the Darkness

by J. D. Tyler

  “We’re going,” Jacee told Micah, leaning in for a kiss, which he gladly gave.

  “Don’t forget to check in. Text me.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I will.”

  “I mean it.”

  “’Bye!”

  She trotted out the door, and he shook his head. Women. It was so funny-strange: he’d never thought he’d share his life and space with one and deal with all the day-to-day mundane things like “Check in when you’re out shopping so I’ll know you’re safe.” But now? Yeah. Lucky bastard.

  With Jacee gone, he went to meet his team. They had some time yet, but it was best to be prepared in case Parker was early. The team would get into position and wait, all day if need be. Sometimes the job could be really boring.

  But he’d take boring over the last time he met up with the monster any day.

  Once Nick and Jax had surveillance under control, he and the others walked over to the hospital. Noah was overseeing the transfer of the last patients, some of whom appeared confused. A couple were complaining about being inconvenienced, and Micah was glad he didn’t have to work with strangers like that all day. He’d go nuts.

  Once in the building, Micah, Aric, Kalen, and Ryon situated themselves in the basement-level stairwell. Keeping Parker from realizing he was actually in the basement instead of on a regular floor posed a problem, so they’d spent two days rigging the elevator to appear to be taking him to the first floor. From there, they’d put up directional signs designed to keep him away from any outside-facing walls—and thus from realizing there wasn’t an outside on his floor.

  What if, what if? Too many hazards.

  Micah shut out the negative internal voices and focused on listening to Nick through his headset. This time around, that was their best way of communicating, since there were too many enclosed spaces and hiding spots to see every team member.

  Every half hour that ticked by was interminably long. The worst of it was they couldn’t even talk to make the time pass quicker. Shifters had notoriously awesome hearing. One scuffle at the wrong second, and the game was over. The headsets, however, were designed for their ears only, and were safe from anyone on the outside overhearing conversation coming through them.

  At last, Nick’s voice broke the silence.

  “The target is on site. He’s approaching the entrance on foot, so I’m assuming he flew in and shifted a safe distance away.”

  A pause. Less than a minute later, “Noah has intercepted the target and is redirecting him. The target appears visibly unhappy about the change in rooms.”

  Stay cool, Noah.

  “Target is on his way down.”

  “Copy that,” Micah said, palming his pistol. “We’re ready.” He didn’t dare speak again.

  A pause. “Target is off the elevator, heading your way.” Pause. “He’s outside the room, looking in. Damn, he’s suspicious.”

  Go in, you fucker. Go in!

  “Target’s turning back! He’s on the run! Apprehend him!”

  Fuck!

  Micah and his teammates spilled from their hiding place and cut off Parker’s escape. The man skidded to a halt in the middle of the hallway, then turned and fled back the way he’d come. At the end, he disappeared around a corner.

  “Dead end,” Nick called out. “You’ve got him cornered. But watch out! He’s armed!”

  Just then, Parker popped into view and fired three shots in their direction. Just behind Micah, a couple of the bullets struck flesh. Micah, Ryon, and Kalen flattened themselves against the wall, but Aric was lying on the floor, bleeding. And cursing.

  “Motherfucker!” Crimson was spreading across his left shoulder and his left side, soaking his shirt.

  Lunging for him, Micah dragged him off to the side and leaned him against the wall. “Aric’s down,” he called into the headset. “Two gunshots, shoulder and torso.”

  “Backup’s on the way,” Nick said. “Hang on.”

  Parker fired more shots, but they ricocheted down the hallway without striking anyone. Seemed they were at a stalemate. Until the fucker ran out of ammo.

  “We’ve got him pinned, but—” Micah began.

  Just then, Parker’s hand appeared around the corner. And in his hand . . .

  A grenade. Jesus Christ.

  Micah yelled, “Fuck! Grenade! Hit the floor!”

  They dove, and the explosion came, deafening in its power. But the grenade hadn’t been lobbed at them, much to Micah’s shock. As the debris and smoke cleared, he got up on his knees, looking around. The damage wasn’t to their end of the hallway, but Parker’s.

  “Shit, did the asshole blow himself up?” Ryon asked, then coughed.

  Aric snarled. “One can hope.”

  Kalen dusted off his leather coat. “Let’s go look. Stay here and hold down the fort, Red.”

  “I plan on it, Goth Boy.”

  Cautiously, the three of them crept to the end of the hallway. Micah went around the corner first, and drew his weapon. Only to find himself staring into the sunshine. Open, empty air.

  “Son of a bitch!” he yelled in frustration. “He blew a hole in the wall and escaped!”

  “I’ll be goddamned.” Ryon gave a disgruntled sigh. “Back to square one.”

  Kalen kicked at a piece of Sheetrock with one booted foot. “And now we have a hell of a mess and a shitload of repairs to do. My mate’s going to kick my ass.”

  Micah shook his head. “Let’s check on Aric and get him upstairs. We need to make sure Tyler’s protected at all times now, too. Parker will know he helped us.”

  “Clusterfuck,” Kalen bitched.

  Ryon snorted. “With extra clusters on top of the fuckity fuck.”

  “Come on, idiots.” Micah hurried back to his brother-in-law, who was in pain, but more pissed off than anything. A good sign with Aric. The bleeding had slowed, but he still needed attention.

  They got him upstairs, and the staff whisked him away. More than an hour went by as they dealt with the aftermath, and Micah finally remembered to check his phone. He was relieved to see that earlier he’d gotten a text from Jacee saying they were having a good time. He wasn’t looking forward to Rowan’s reaction when she learned Aric had gotten hurt, and decided he wasn’t going to be the one to tell her.

  Aric had insisted they wait until she got back. It was his ass.

  He did text his mate and tell her, Mission failed. Parker got away. Tell you more when you get back.

  She didn’t reply, so he tried their mental link. Jacee?

  Sorry. Just got done with lunch and saw your text. Why do we text when we can communicate like this, anyway?

  He smiled. I don’t know. I guess it’s a modern habit. And I can’t always talk mentally if I’m supposed to be on a mission.

  True. So that bastard got away!

  Yeah. Listen, Aric was injured. He’s going to be fine, but I just wanted you to know in case Rowan wants to come back early.

  You want me to tell her? No way! That’s a dirty, rotten trick, trying to get me to do it.

  Didn’t work?

  Not unless it’s really serious.

  Could’ve been, but he’s okay. Really. He said he wants her to stay and have fun.

  Damn. If it was me, I’d still want to know, Micah.

  You’re telling her.

  Yep. Whatever she decides is fine.

  You know, baby, personally, I’m so okay with you coming home early and holding me. I’ve had a bad day. He put plenty of pout into the suggestion, and heard her laugh through their link.

  You are so transparent. I’ll see you soon.

  Love you.

  Love you more.

  With a relieved sigh, he shut their link. Then he pitched in and started helping with the cleanup in the basement.

  * * *

  Lunch and shopping had been fun. Rowan and Sariel had been awesome, and they were well on their way to becoming good friends.

  It had been a bit strange to see Sariel in his gui
se as an ordinary brown-haired young man, and Jacee thought once more that it was sad he couldn’t show the world his true self. Yet he clearly enjoyed himself despite having to assume a different form.

  He was this joyous sponge, soaking up every bit of information, no matter how trivial. And yet at times he would say something like “My brothers would be amazed by this!” Then he’d look so sad for a few moments that she wanted to cry.

  His sorrowful mood never lasted long, and he was soon chattering again about everything.

  The mental conversation with Micah, however, put a damper on her mood. Her friends noticed as they were leaving the restaurant in Cody.

  “What’s up all of a sudden?” Rowan asked.

  Jacee debated how much to tell them. The truth was always best, though, even if you thought you were doing the right thing by holding back. “Parker Anderson got away.”

  “What? Why didn’t Aric tell me through our link?”

  “Um . . .”

  Rowan closed her eyes for a few seconds. Jacee knew she was trying to speak to her mate, and when Rowan opened her eyes again, she was starting to look panicked.

  “He’s not answering me. What’s going on?”

  “Micah said he was injured, but he’s okay,” Jacee rushed on. “He’s probably getting treated right now.”

  Rowan paled. “Injured how? What happened?”

  “He didn’t say, just that Aric’s fine and he said for you to have fun. That’s all I know.”

  “Oh. Well, if he said that, it can’t be too bad, right?”

  “Right.” But her friend still looked worried.

  Sariel took Rowan’s arm. “We can return if you’d like. It’s not a problem. We’ve already had plenty of fun for one day.”

  “If you guys don’t mind, I would like to check on him,” Rowan said, worry etched on her face.

  “Then by all means, let’s—” Sariel gave a soft grunt and his eyes widened in surprise as he jerked backward. Two holes appeared on his shirt, and blue—not red—liquid, began to spread across his chest.

  “Blue!” Rowan shouted.

  Jacee lunged for him, intending to catch him. She managed to grab his shirt and stuck her hand right on one of the strange blue bloody spots. But pain exploded in the back of her head, and she stumbled and fell. She hit the ground, head spinning. Shouts reached her ears as she was picked up and bodily thrown. Her palms scraped on carpet as she landed and fell limp.

  She heard Rowan yelling at their attacker.

  Then she knew nothing more.

  * * *

  Micah wasn’t too worried when Jacee missed the next check-in text. It hadn’t been that long since he’d spoken to her via their mind-link, so he let it go. For a while. But when he sent her a text and she didn’t answer, he grew uneasy.

  Still, she’d missed one last time, and things had been fine. Really, though, he couldn’t believe Rowan hadn’t insisted they come home when she’d heard Aric had been injured. The man was the love of her life, and it would be unlike her to just keep shopping like it was no big deal.

  That concerned him more than anything. Aric, too, when Micah walked over to the ER and stepped behind the curtained partition to ask if he’d heard from Rowan.

  Aric frowned. “No. Come to think of it, I’m kind of surprised. You told Jacee about me, you say?”

  “Yeah. She was going to tell Rowan, and I figured they’d be back by now.”

  “Huh. Well, let’s don’t borrow trouble just yet.”

  Turned out they didn’t have to borrow it. After Zan did a bit of healing on Aric’s wounds, Aric was bandaged and released. As he and Micah were standing outside, inspecting the blown-up wall, trouble came roaring up the driveway in the form of the sheriff’s car.

  The men jogged over to greet Deveraux, others coming out of the buildings to see what was going on. It didn’t take long to spot Blue lying on the backseat, bleeding from a chest wound. Micah’s heart damn near stopped.

  “What happened to him?”

  The Fae had shifted back to his real form, and his wings were taking up the entire back of the car. He was gasping for breath, but struggling to push himself upright. Jesse got out and ran to open a back door and help him, leaning inside. Micah and Aric joined them, and Micah was aware of others crowding around the vehicle.

  “Parker Anderson shot me,” Blue gasped. “He just walked right up to me and pulled the trigger. Probably thought I was some regular guy and didn’t realize I couldn’t die that way. But I was out of commission for a few minutes, and he got away with the women. I’m so sorry. I’ll take whatever punishment I deserve once we get them back safely.”

  “Blue, shut up,” Micah growled. Fear rode him hard, but this wasn’t Blue’s fault. “You’re not to blame for this. I shouldn’t have let her go with that monster still out there.”

  Aric agreed. “Me, too.”

  “I should’ve protected them,” Blue said, clearly ashamed.

  Jacee? Baby, where are you? No answer.

  Micah shook his head, rage building. “You couldn’t help what happened. But we’re going to get them back. Did you see which way he went? Did he say anything?”

  “No. But I believe Jacee got some of my blood on her after I was shot, when she grabbed me. If she did, we can trace her that way. Or, rather, a Sorcerer can.”

  From the other side of the car, Kalen nodded. “His blood is a Fae element we share, and I can track the source. If she’s got some on her, we’ll find her.”

  “Then do your thing,” Micah said. “I’ve got a monster to kill.”

  Mac and Noah tried to get Blue to go to the infirmary, but he refused, waving them off and climbing out of the car under his own steam. Kalen touched the blood on his brother’s shirt, spread it on his fingers, and closed his eyes. Then he began to chant a spell, his voice hypnotic. Micah had seen him work a few times, and it never failed to awe him.

  A few moments later, the Sorcerer’s eyes opened. “Six miles from here, in the forest. I’ve got her pinpointed.”

  Quickly, they loaded up in the SUVs. Aric refused to be left behind, and nobody blamed him. A couple of measly gunshot wounds were not enough to keep a wolf from his mate.

  Blue took to the sky, following them that way. Micah knew the prince must have felt horrible. He never joined in on missions unless specifically called, claiming he was a lover, not a fighter—even though he was, ironically, probably the deadliest of them all.

  It didn’t take long to find the road Kalen directed them to and, a few miles beyond that, the ramshackle cabin almost obscured by undergrowth. Careful to park a good distance away, they set off on foot. Not fucking around this time, Micah had already shifted into wolf form by the Escalade, as had several others. His wolf was stronger and faster. More lethal.

  That would be what counted.

  He was going to tear Parker Anderson into very small pieces. There wouldn’t even be enough left of him to feed the worms.

  * * *

  Jacee awoke to find herself bound with her hands behind her back, sitting in a corner of the main room of a filthy cabin. Thankfully, Rowan was right beside her, and a glance showed that her friend was pissed as hell at their captor. If her brown eyes could kill, the creature would have been dead.

  But crazy people didn’t care. Parker was one of those special kinds of insane bastards who got off on seeing others suffer for the hell of it.

  At the moment, he was smiling to himself, showing yellowed teeth, singing a song with garbled lyrics that made sense to nobody but him. He was sitting at a table, puttering with some objects on top of it, arranging. Rearranging. Picking one up, inspecting it. Putting it down and selecting another.

  Jacee frowned until she realized what he was looking at—tools. Pliers, wrenches, hammers. A couple of small handsaws. Garage tools of all kinds. Suddenly she felt as though she’d been dropped into a terrible episode of Criminal Minds. And she wanted out. Now.

  A glance at Rowan showed her friend had
made the same realization, and some of her anger had bled to fear as well.

  “Your mates won’t think you’re so pretty by the time they get you back—if they get you back.” Parker picked up a pair of pliers. “I think this one will do for a start! Who’s first?”

  * * *

  Micah crept through the foliage to a low window, careful not to disturb so much as one leaf or twig. His Pack was equally stealthy. They listened, hard. For any sound, any movement at all.

  The plan was to get a bead on the monster. Wait until he was in a different room from the women and then strike.

  But when Micah heard Jacee’s bloodcurdling scream, that plan went to hell.

  Without a second thought, he backed up, got a running start at the window, and let his feet fly, digging into the turf. He hit full force, shattering the glass into a million shards, not even feeling the pain on his muzzle.

  What he saw took the rage in his heart, blackened it, and boiled it over, like tar.

  Parker was holding a pair of pliers, twisting a vulnerable piece of flesh at the curve of Jacee’s exposed breast. Torturing her, as so many of the women had been tortured under Bowman’s rule back then.

  No. No more. This ends here, and now!

  Parker’s face twisted in anger at the interruption, and he shifted into his monstrous form just as Micah launched himself across the cabin. Jacee scrambled out of harm’s way, and the battle was on.

  The two of them collided, opposing forces with years of pent-up hatred consuming them. The huge, awful bird was a strong enemy. A deadly fighter. He countered Micah’s moves, blocked his attempts to go for the neck. They crashed around the small space, tearing up furniture, cracking the walls, breaking windows.

  Micah rolled, getting in a good rip on the creature’s leg with his teeth, enjoying its screech of pain. Talons sank into his back, and he cried out and rolled again, dislodging them. The tide turned when his Pack joined the battle, distracting the monster.

  They tore and bit at the creature. Came at him from every angle, and soon he was strictly on the defensive, unable to get in any more good blows. For all the creature’s strength and hate, he was missing two vital things—

  Love and Pack.

  Without those things, an enemy was doomed. Parker seemed to realize this and, too late, tried to double his efforts. It was in vain.