Realm Walker rw-1

by Kathleen Collins

  As she read through it again she punched Ben’s number in on her desk phone. “Nichols,” he answered.

  “Hey, it’s me. Thought I’d let you know the Librarian just tried to take off my head.”

  “That’s odd.” He sounded distracted. “We haven’t had a report in over six months. I thought she was calming down. You weren’t foolish enough to try to take one of her books were you?”

  Juliana glanced at the spell book. “No, but I took one in with me.”

  Ben laughed. “Never take a book into the Library you intend to keep, Norris. You should know that. You are lucky you didn’t lose your head. I’ll send a team in to check on her.” He sighed. “Now, while I’ve got you, I need a favor. A pain in the ass lady keeps calling. I’ve tried putting her off but she’s not going to go away. Give her a call, see what the problem is.”

  The last thing she felt like doing was dealing with a pain in the ass that thought her problems were more important than everyone else’s. But Ben was her boss and occasionally she had to do what he told her. “All right, it beats sitting around twiddling my thumbs anyway.”

  “Thanks. If she doesn’t call back, I’ll owe you.”

  She disconnected with Ben then picked up the receiver and dialed the number he’d given her. “This is Walker Norris, I understand you have a problem. How may I help you?”

  “Are you going to help me or just brush me off like everyone else?” The woman’s voice grated on her nerves like a banshee screech.

  “Let’s see what I can do. What’s the problem?”

  “I want you to arrest my neighbor. He’s a werewolf.”

  She swallowed a laugh. “Is that so? And has he threatened you in any way?”

  “Why should I have to wait until he threatens me? His existence is a threat. I’ve lived in the neighborhood for forty years and never had to worry about keeping inside during a full moon before. Those things just aren’t natural.” She paused, no doubt waiting for Juliana to agree.

  She didn’t know what kind of people this lady thought they had working at the Agency but she could guarantee anyone she sent over would scare the old woman a lot worse than the neighbor did.

  “Well, ma’am...” She heard whistling coming down the hallway. She recognized that whistle. “What’s your address? We’ll send someone right out.”

  “1346 Rose Lane. Just under the bridge.”

  Juliana jotted down the address and hung up as Nathaniel stepped into view.

  “They told me you were around,” he said and perched on the edge of her desk.

  “What are you doing here?” She leaned back in her chair and propped her feet on the edge of the desk.

  He gave her a sad smile and tapped his temple. “Appointment with the shrink. I’m not allowed out until the quacks clear me. Post-traumatic stress and all that. How I’m supposed to be stressed by something I don’t remember, I have no idea.” He narrowed his eyes and looked her over. “What I want to know is since when does a badass vampire like Thomas Kendrick get so protective of a pup like you?”

  She gave him a little shrug. Her relationship with Thomas was complicated at best. She wasn’t sure she could explain it in a way that made sense to anyone else. She wasn’t sure it even made sense to her.

  “So that’s how it’s going to be, huh? I’ll go ask Ben. You know he’ll have it all wrong. Up to you.”

  “Go ask him. He won’t tell you anything. I think he’s afraid of Thomas.”

  “Everyone is afraid of Kendrick.”

  “It’s not like he’s a sociopath, he’s just Thomas.”

  Nathaniel looked at her for a moment. “You really aren’t scared of him at all, are you?”

  “Why should I be?” Thomas might have ripped her apart emotionally, but he’d never harm her physically.

  He shook his head. “Never mind, crazy lady. You just go hang out with your vampire and leave the rest of us lowly minions to quiver in fear.”

  “Speaking of minions...”

  He sighed. “What do you want?”

  “Ben gave me a call. Want to go? I promise I won’t tell.” She gave him her best puppy dog eyes. He might not be allowed out until he got a psych clearance, but he was like her, the waiting drove him nuts. Talking to an old lady wasn’t going to hurt him any and it would give him something to do. Besides, she needed to go back to the summoning scene and make sure nothing had been missed. Something of hers had been used to summon the demon and she needed to find out what it was.

  When he held out his hand, she handed him the slip of paper with the address.

  “I’m only doing this because I feel guilty about trashing your house,” he said, lest she assume he was only being helpful. He stood and gave her a little salute before heading down the hallway. She took the opportunity to hit him square in the ass with a rubber band.

  * * *

  After she and Jeremiah scoured every inch of the summoning scene and came up with nothing, she dropped the book back off at the Apocryphan for safekeeping. Then she spent the rest of the evening combing the town, looking for the demon. Alone. She’d tried to call Thomas several times, but his phone kept rolling to voicemail. It was well after two when she finally made it to her couch and it was almost dawn when her phone rang, awakening her from her much-needed slumber. If she ever woke up on her own again, she’d consider it a miracle. Cursed phone.

  “Yeah?”

  “We’ve got another one.” Jeremiah sounded as tired as she felt.

  “Hold on.” She grunted as she shoved herself into a sitting position. “All right. What do I need to know?”

  “Single victim. Male. He’s one of ours but they haven’t identified him yet.”

  Her spine straightened, panic racing along it like imps to a fire. “Then how do we know he’s ours?”

  “The demon left a message.” He sounded sick. “You better just come down here.”

  “Where am I headed?”

  “1346 Rose Lane.”

  Her heart stuttered in her chest and she sucked in a painful breath. “Just under the bridge?”

  “Yeah. How did you know?”

  Nathaniel was dead and it was all her fault. The mantra kept repeating in her head as she waited for the portal. As she stepped through to the yard of a little blue house surrounded by chaos and a white picket fence. As she shoved her way past techs and agents, ignoring those that called her name.

  She stumbled across the threshold and ran into someone. Hands grasped her upper arms, shook, demanded her attention. She looked up to find Jeremiah frowning at her. “What is it? What’s the matter?”

  “Where?” she breathed. “Where is he?”

  His brow furrowed and his frown deepened. He stepped to the side giving her an unobstructed view of the living room. The air froze in her lungs. Her heart slammed to a stop.She closed her eyes, put her hands on her legs and bent forward. She sucked in a tortured breath. Slowly, she raised her head, forced herself to face the massacre before her. There was no other word to describe it.

  A shattered, ragged form hung on the far wall, a fireplace poker shoved through the mangled remains of his face to hold him in place. Nothing recognizable remained. No wonder they hadn’t identified the remains yet. A large patch of semi-congealed blood colored the wall behind him and pooled on the floor. Splatters decorated the furniture. But it wasn’t the body that made it hard to breathe, that made her rub her sternum with her knuckles hoping to ease the ache that had taken up permanent residence.

  Foot high letters carved into the plaster covered the wall to the right. “Where’s my Walker?” She read the words aloud. Her. It wanted her. Her lips trembled and a sheen of tears blurred her vision. She pushed Jeremiah aside and tripped out the door. Acid boiled in her stomach and burned her throat as she vomited into the bushes. She kept going until there was nothing but dry heaves.

  She stood up and wiped her mouth with the back of a shaking hand.

  “Who is it?” Jeremiah asked from behind her.
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  “Nathaniel.” She turned to him. “It was supposed to be me.”

  “Don’t think like that. It could have been anyone.”

  She shook her head. “You don’t get it. This was my call. I got him to take it for me so I could go home and crash.”

  “So this was a trap?” His voice was cold, hard.

  It took her a minute to understand what he was saying. Her eyes widened.

  “Who told you to come here? Who sent you?”

  “I did.” Ben’s voice breaking into their conversation made her jump. “But the woman asked for her.”

  “You didn’t tell me that.” She furrowed her brow. “You made it sound like I was doing you a favor.”

  He looked pale, uncomfortable. “She didn’t ask for you by name. She asked for a Walker. ‘Maybe that one that saved the mayor last year,’ she said.” He shrugged. “And since you weren’t doing anything, I figured why not.”

  She ran a hand across her forehead. She’d managed to keep the mayor from being devoured by a succubus he picked up at a sex club on New Year’s Eve. It got her more publicity than she wanted and the scandal got the mayor fired. He probably wished she’d just minded her own business. Some days, so did she.

  “Did you trace the call?” Jeremiah asked.

  Ben shook his head. “Didn’t realize there was a reason to until right now. I’ll get someone on it.” She watched him walk off with his hands shoved into his pockets.

  “You believe him?” Jeremiah spoke close to her ear so only she could hear him.

  “I don’t know. I find it hard to believe my boss is working with the demon trying to kill me. I know I’m a pain, but there are simpler ways to get rid of me.”

  “Why don’t you go home? We can handle this.”

  “I can’t. You know that.” She turned and walked back into the house.

  Chapter Sixteen

  When she walked in the door later that morning, she fell backwards onto the couch and lay still for several long minutes. She’d saved Nathaniel only to have him killed by the demon anyway. The investigation at the house had yielded few clues. According to the neighbors, the couple that owned the house was on their honeymoon and would be for several more days. Bloody handprints on a sofa where the demon sat to observe his work were the only helpful clue in the whole mess. The only advantage they’d gained from her friend’s death was the knowledge that the new host was humanoid.

  She rolled off the couch and plodded to the bathroom. She’d taken a scalding shower when she got home the night before but she needed another one. After adjusting the temperature of the water, she climbed in. Closing her eyes, she shoved her head under the water. She held it there, images of Nathaniel flashing through her brain. Salt coated her lips as hot tears combined with the water running down her face. Sobs wracked her body and she sank to the floor. Wrapping her arms around her knees, she leaned her head against the wall.

  Finally, her tears dried, her shaking breaths slowed. And she did something she swore she would never do. She dropped the shielding she wore around her mind like a cloak and reached out for her mate. She tried to call Thomas again while she was still at the scene, but he didn’t answer. Hadn’t answered any of her calls since then. And now when she attempted the only form of contact left to her, she found nothing. Just black emptiness where their connection should be.

  He had shut her out. Just as completely and thoroughly as she’d been doing to him for years. Damn him. Couldn’t he pick a more convenient time to throw his hissy fit? Anger chased away the fog of grief enough that she could get back on her feet. As she scrubbed her face with her hands, she put her own shields back in place. She turned off the shower. Water sprayed as she shook her head to get rid of the excess. She stepped out into a cloud of steam and dried herself off. Then she ran the towel down the mirror to clean a section. Her eyes were puffy from crying, her face was drawn and pale.

  This case was kicking her ass. With a sigh, she dropped the towel on the floor and headed down the hall to get dressed. Soon she wore her normal work wear of dark jeans, a sleeveless top and army boots. Then she raided the weapons.

  On her right thigh she strapped a twelve-inch knife, on her left went two sterling silver stakes. Most Walkers carried wood. She preferred silver because they did double duty on vamps and shifters. A stake through the heart wouldn’t kill a vampire, but it would keep most of the younger ones pinned in place for a time. Her gun, badge and sword completed the ensemble. She slid on a pair of regular sunglasses before stepping out of the house and locking the door behind her. She hoped it stayed secure because she wasn’t coming back until she’d hunted this damn thing down and destroyed it.

  She called for a portal to take her to where Thomas had found the corpse the day before. The area had been thoroughly swept but maybe she could find something they’d overlooked.

  Once again Juliana found herself on the outskirts of the End. If there was anywhere a demon should feel at home, she guessed it would be Devil’s End. She started walking the streets, unsure of where she was heading, but too keyed up to sit around waiting for a lead.

  Briefly she thought about knocking on doors as she passed, but it would be a waste of time. For one, the street patrols would have already done it and for another, no one around here saw anything even if it happened a foot from their face. That’s just the way things worked in the End.

  The End was her territory. Whenever the Agency needed to send a representative, they sent her. She wasn’t sure if it was because of her proximity or because they thought she blended in with the locals. Unfortunately, the second option seemed most likely. Even as familiar a face as she was in the area, it was unlikely she would get any more information than the patrols had. Especially when it became known a demon was involved. No one wanted to cross a demon.

  A couple of blocks down, at the end of a dark alley, stood a nondescript door with a red rune of a double-armed cross blazing above it. She smiled. That was Michael’s mark. He told her once he’d taken it from the Holy Order of Inquisitioners. She didn’t ask why, there were some things she didn’t want to know about her friends. At least she wouldn’t have any trouble getting information from anyone here. If they knew, they’d tell her.

  She knocked on the door. A Neanderthal-looking vampire with one eyebrow answered the door, filling the opening entirely. She didn’t recognize him.

  He frowned down at her. “What do you want?”

  “Here to see the boss,” she answered.

  That one eyebrow rose and he looked her over. “Leave your weapons or you stay here.”

  “I stay here then. You go fetch.”

  He growled and narrowed his eyes before stepping back and slamming the door. She waited for a ten count and then followed after him.

  “Someone’s here to see you, boss. Left her outside,” the Neanderthal said as she crested the stairs. A tall, gaunt blond male with waist-length hair drew two blades and pointed them at her throat. A petite brunette pointed her gun at Juliana’s chest and the Neanderthal flexed his hands into fists as he turned to face her.

  At the desk beyond them sat a vampire with brown hair and eyes so dark they were almost black even when he wasn’t in a rage. As usual, he needed a shave. Michael.

  “You never call, you never write,” she said, looking at him, but watching the others from the corner of her eyes.

  “Leave us.” His eyes never left hers.

  The others hesitated only a moment then put weapons away and headed down the stairs.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked once they were alone. His voice was odd, remote.

  She clenched her teeth. Her anger, already riled by the fact he hadn’t contacted her, flared at the thought he didn’t want her there. Thomas may toss her world upside down, but she’d be damned if she was going to lose one of her best friends because her mate snapped his fingers.

  In a blink Michael was around his desk, pushing her body against the wall. He placed his hands on either side
of her head, boxing her in. He studied her for a moment before leaning forward. He sniffed her neck, causing her pulse to race more than it already was.

  “You smell like Thomas. You’ve had his blood, yet you’ve come to me.” He spoke in her ear. “Why are you here, my friend, when you are truly his again?”

  “I don’t see what one has to do with the other. I tried to call you. Important things have been happening.”

  He dropped his arms and stepped back. “If they were so important you should have left a message.”

  “Some things you don’t leave on voicemail.”

  He frowned. “Such as?”

  She paused, debating how much to tell him and in what order. “This may take a while.”

  “In that case, can I get you a drink?”

  “Why not?” She followed him over to his desk and dropped into one of the chairs in front of it. He poured drinks at the bar on the far side of the room.

  He handed hers over before sitting with his own. “Talk.”

  She swirled her drink and took a sip. “I’ve been demon hunting.”

  He sat up straight in his chair. “What kind?”

  “If you’re asking what its affiliation is, I have no idea. It could belong to any of the dark gods. I can tell you it’s first-level though.”

  “A first-level demon is wandering around in our realm? Are you certain?”

  “It reanimated a corpse, talked to me and ran away. Yeah, I’m pretty damn sure.” She suppressed a shudder as an image of the dead inkmage flickered through her brain.

  “And you’re positive the host was dead?”

  She laughed, a hollow little sound. “I blew out the back of his head. Trust me, he was dead.”

  He paused for a moment. “Have you asked your father about this?”

  Michael was the only person in her life who knew who her father was. The reasons for this were simple. Number one, she knew he wouldn’t try to kill her simply because her father was one of the gods of the dark fae. Number two, Michael had been sitting beside her hospital bed when her father came calling with her sword strapped across his back. They’d hit it off immediately.