When he had reconnected with Seraph—the emissary sent by his people to monitor Brenna’s banishment—the man had sworn Brenna mourned. She had not even looked at a man since her exile. She had not shared either her blood or her body since their marriage. But he had not believed it.
He had been a fool.
Chapter Ten
Brenna closed her eyes, but visions of the past assailed her mind. She pressed her forehead against the cool bedroom door and tried to focus. She didn’t know what had possessed her to expose herself, in more ways than just dropping her glamour. Perhaps it had been the shock of Marissa’s death, losing Xavier, and the stress of the past few days combined. Regardless, Gray now knew far too much. She had let her desire for him and her need for him to understand her overwhelm her sense of self-preservation. She could only wait and hope her trust hadn’t been foolish.
The attraction she felt was becoming dangerous, and she still couldn’t understand why it was happening. Though Dunham had died before they could complete the bonding ritual, she still felt tied to him—body and soul. Yet, here she was, panting after another man a mere century later. With each breath, she was betraying Dunham’s memory.
It was her fault he was dead. She had been the opening her father needed to catch his rivals unaware. If they had never married, Dunham would be alive.
Brenna released a long shaky breath. She would do better.
And to think she had let Gray convince her to deputize the others as hunters. It was a horrible idea. Each of them had only a modicum of self-control, much less the good sense to stay out of danger. Even so, it was easy to see it from Seraph’s point of view. With headquarters compromised, multiple agents dead, and a mole in the organization, he needed warm bodies—or room temperature ones at any rate—particularly since all of his extra hunters were focused on finding the missing deviants.
No one would work harder to avenge Marissa than her friends. Sending her remains to the house had been nothing less than a declaration of war.
Brenna stripped off her stained clothes. They smelled of ash and death. She tossed her clothes in the burn pile and put on fresh ones. No amount of soap would wash away the reminder of Marissa’s death.
Taking a bottle of body spray from the dresser, she drowned herself in the scent of violets. For now it would cover the smell. She had just tied her hair in a quick braid when the air turned cold.
With a sigh, she turned toward the bed and waited. “Hilda, I know you’re here.”
There was a chill across Brenna’s bare arms as Hilda appeared. Her form wavered in the candlelight, betraying a weakness in her power. Concerned, Brenna reached out to touch her, but Hilda pulled away.
“Gray has outstayed his welcome. He needs to leave.” She crossed her arms across her chest. “I don’t trust him.”
Brenna tried not to roll her eyes. At the first sign of trouble, Hilda always chose a scapegoat. Apparently, this time it was Gray. “What did he do?” She settled back on the bed. It could be awhile before Hilda finished.
“It doesn’t matter what he did. I’m your friend. Marissa is dead and you’re in charge. Not him. I want him gone.” Hilda began to pace the space in front of the bed. “You think I would provoke him? Even if I did, that doesn’t give him the right to retaliate. He’s still new here. I have seniority!”
Brenna shook her head. “So he’s supposed to sit back and let you abuse him?”
“I didn’t abuse him.” She paused, genuinely scared. “He abused me.”
“What did he do?” Brenna asked, but she was afraid she already knew.
“He trapped me in corporeal form.” She paused again. “It drained me. How could he do that?”
Brenna groaned, cursing Gray in her head. This was the reason she had never shown anyone the full extent of her powers. It would terrify them. Apparently, Gray didn’t care. “You need to be careful around Gray. Our people have power over the dead.”
“Are you necromancers?” Hilda’s posture tightened.
“No. This isn’t about reanimation.” She paused, torn as to how much to tell Hilda. “We can stop the dead from existing.”
“That’s not possible. You can’t kill the dead.”
“It’s not exactly easy to explain but yes, we can.”
Hilda stepped back to put more distance between them. “Wait, you can do it too? Why didn’t you warn me?”
Brenna shook her head. “Gray isn’t going to hurt you unless you are a threat to him. I’ll warn him to—”
“You should have told me!” Hilda cut in. With a wounded look, she disappeared.
Brenna took a deep breath. Hopefully Gray and Hilda would learn to play nice. There was no time for this juvenile drama. She grabbed her black leather coat off the glider and slipped it over her sweater. She needed to find Gray and assess the damage.
The wooden planks groaned beneath her weight as she moved down the narrow hall. If they were still alive when this was over she was going to have the floors redone. She had been after Marissa to do it for ages, but there had never been enough time.
Gray stood at the top of the stairwell. His hair rioted around his head as if he had walked in from a windstorm.
“We need to finish our conversation,” he said. His shoes creaked against the floor. “You have to let me apologize. I jumped to conclusions. Too many.”
At first she was surprised, then wondered if it was a ploy. She tried to move past him down the stairs, but he blocked her path.
“Wherever you’re going, it can wait. This is far more important.”
His ego was astounding. She couldn’t believe he was making this about him. “I’ve had enough emotional torture for the day. We can talk later.”
He didn’t move. “Those scars could have come from your attack on Orien. I’m sure his men fought back.”
A tremor of unease settled in her belly. It had never occurred to her that he wouldn’t believe her.
“You’re right,” she said. “They wouldn’t have sat on the ground and waited for me to kill them.” She paused to control the anger in her voice. “But why would I lie? Unless you’re a member of Dunham’s clan, my confession is meaningless.”
“True.” He was closer now, his warm breath brushed across her forehead. “And if I were a Vires, I would have killed you on sight.”
“Because I am the evil bitch who killed him,” she finished.
“Exactly.” He searched her face. “But I’m finding that harder and harder to believe.” He leaned down, and brushed his lips across her forehead. “I’m beginning to see why Dunham loved you.”
She held him back. “You say that like you knew him.”
“I did.”
Her pulse raced as he leaned forward once again. “Who are you, really?” she asked.
“I’ll tell you when the time is right.”
“I have no reason to believe that.” She paused. “I’ll figure it out eventually.”
Once again she tried to push past him. This time he let her go. She tried to gather her thoughts as he followed her down into the empty kitchen. “You have to trust me if we are going to work together,” she said, filling a glass with water from the sink. Her body tensed as he moved behind her. She could feel the heat of his body against her back.
“I had hoped you would trust me.” He placed his hands on the counter on either side of her and leaned over her neck. “I believed your confession. What I don’t understand is why you felt it was necessary.” His breath tickled the back of her ear.
“It was an olive branch. You should take it at face value.” She turned around, their bodies pressed together. He reminded her of Dunham. Like a dog with his favorite bone, he refused to let the matter go.
“Why do you care so much?”
Ignoring the question, he traced the curve of her lip with his fingers. He was going to kiss her again. She knew she should pull away, but couldn’t. The heat of his breath tickled her lips as he bent his head. His lips explored her mouth, tastin
g each crevice, tongues meeting in the ancient dance they both craved. He grabbed her thighs and lifted her onto the counter as she wrapped her legs around his waist and pressed him more firmly against her body. Lost in the familiarity of his touch, all she could focus on were the sensations. So much like Dunham…
Abruptly she came to her senses. Pushing at Gray’s chest, she tried to untangle herself from his body.
“Why do you keep doing this to me?” she slipped down his body until her feet touched the floor, she side-stepped away from him. “I don’t even know who you are.”
He let her go, watching her circle around the kitchen. “Would knowing change anything?”
She shook her head. “It would make me feel like less of an idiot.” Taking a deep breath, she moved farther away. “I need to get to headquarters. I have a file in my office with research on ancient rituals and runes. It might help Lucy with the map.” She had a partial copy of the file here, but this gave her an excuse to grill Lucy about the lab results on Marissa. “I might as well take the bag from Adare since I’m going.”
Gray shook his head. “No. Let me examine them first. Seraph said he would pick them up when he comes to administer the oath to the others.”
She nodded and backed out of the room, hoping he didn’t realize she was in fact fleeing.
The drive to headquarters passed in silence. Her mind spun so erratically she couldn’t tolerate music or noise. The tunnels were strangely silent as she deactivated the locks into the inner sanctum. Even inside the only sound was the tapping of her heels on the linoleum floor. Her sense of unease grew as she found the reception box empty. Neither Lucy nor the succubus who covered for her when Lucy was in the lab were there.
Seraph would never leave the entryway unguarded.
She slid her athame from its strap at her back. The blade gripped in one hand, she closed her eyes and opened her senses. It took a moment to focus in on the noise, a distinct clicking sound, similar to cicadas.
Demons.
The sounds grew shriller as she moved down the darkened hallway. It was impossible for demons to have breached the building. The security measures were impenetrable, both mechanical and magical. Even she couldn’t break in. Someone had to have let them in. She prayed the others were still alive.
She sensed movement at the end of the hall. Blade gripped tightly in one hand, Brenna pressed her body against the wall. The demons did not appear to have noticed her presence. They continued to converse in their guttural language as she neared. The best she could tell, there were three, maybe more. If their hosts were weak, it shouldn’t be a problem to take them down. She palmed her blade, and peered around the corner toward the noise. No. It wasn’t possible.
Three creatures stood in the hallway. Eight feet tall and wide as linebackers, they were free of their hosts. The unfortunate humans who had carried them to the compound lay strewn at their feet, broken and bloody. When the demons were ready to return to the surface, they would repossess the hosts, using them as a disguise. Outside of the hosts the demons were far more dangerous.
She used her power to cloak her presence and moved forward. When she was within several feet of them, she unleashed a wintery blast of magic through the hallway to envelop the demons. They struggled against the icy storm, clawing at the empty air around them to no avail. Crystals coated their bodies, neutralizing their power and rendering them helpless.
Amazed the spell had worked so well, she approached the blocks of ice, touching each cocoon with care. She hadn’t used the hex in over a century and she was afraid it might backfire. With the demons firmly entrapped, she swiped the cold blade of her athame across both her palms. Lifting her hands to the air, blood flowing down her wrists and arms, she completed the curse. The blocks exploded into shards of ice. The demons were gone, banished behind the Veil.
Brenna closed her eyes. She sensed the presence of other demons, but could not pinpoint their location. The spell had been a costly one, and drained her to a point where further confrontation would be reckless.
A bloody line trailed from the bodies of the hosts down the corridor. There was nothing more she could do here on her own.
Heart pounding, she made her way back to the main corridor, where the sounds of a fight now drifted toward her. Her escape route was blocked. She cursed herself. If she had relented and taken Gray’s blood, her powers would be at full strength.
She said a quick prayer and turned the corner. Seraph stood in the passage, flanked by four other men in riot gear with enchanted batons meant for crowd control rather than battle. Before them all stood a creature unlike anything she had ever seen, like a mutated demon encased in a shell of granite from neck to knee. Towering over the men, it screeched as they blasted it with spell after spell. Brenna gathered her reserves and joined in the fight, adding her own power to Seraph’s attack. The incantations hit the beast and sent it flying into the white wall. Its blood absorbed into the plaster. Seraph took advantage of the stunned creature and struck out with his sword, taking its head. He sent the remains back beyond the Veil with a sweep of his arm.
Seraph turned to Brenna, giving her a slight nod as he wiped his sword clean, his men taking defensive positions at all the doors. “There are more in the lower levels. We will take care of them. I need you to go back home. I have a feeling that’s their next stop.”
“What are they after?” she asked, slipping her blade into its sheath behind her.
Seraph sighed. “No time to explain. Go home. You can protect the others, but not if you’re here. Go!”
Gray stared down at the bloody contraptions. He had been examining the case of torture devices since Brenna had left, but had yet to find anything useful. He leaned down to tie the bag closed so the items were secure.
As he left the shed, he noticed one of the IRT’s black cargo vans parked outside the chain-link metal fence encasing the courtyard. Although it was hard to make out the profile of the driver, it looked like Lucy.
Strange. The gargoyle hardly ever left headquarters.
He moved toward the van, the frozen ground crunching beneath his feet. He was only a few feet away when the driver’s door swung open and Lucy fell to the ground. She stared at him, blood streaming down her face, one broken winglet crooked over her shoulder.
“I didn’t have a choice,” she said, her voice raspy with pain. She had barely breathed the last word when a creature appeared at the door and wrapped its claws around her neck.
Gray took a step back. Demons were forced to maintain host bodies on this plane, but this creature had molded his host into another form. Claw-like talons stretched from the man’s fingertips and bright blue scales had replaced his skin.
The creature sniffed the air, its gaze settling on what Gray held in his hands. Gray shot the metal case back into the shed with a spell, placing a ward over the door to secure it. The creature huffed as it pushed Lucy away to pursue Gray. She hit the dirt face first and lay unmoving. Gray reached to the sky and called upon the elements. It was his best chance out here in the open. The clouds darkened, thunder reverberated around them as Gray tapped into full expanse of his power. He would need it.
Lightning slammed into the creature’s midsection. Stunned, it fell backward onto the dirt.
Lucy took advantage of the commotion to escape. She crab-walked back to Gray. A stream of blood trailing behind her.
“Get in the house,” he yelled, keeping his attention focused on the demon amidst the wind and thunder. It was struggling to free itself from the host. The body of the host hovered in the air, green mist streamed from every orifice. The human would never survive such abuse.
Unable to pull free, the demon gave up and embraced its host once again, launching itself toward Gray.
“You die now.”
Gray rolled to the side as the demon shot its own lightning. The bolt forked and one half caught him in the chest, slamming him into the side of the house. He stumbled to his feet and raised shaking arms as smoke rol
led off him. Once again, he called upon the elements, this time however he needed to free his power. Gray unsheathed his katana and gripped the blade with one hand. The wind morphed into a massive funnel cloud. Reaching his bloody hand to the sky, Gray pressed it into the swirling mass. It exploded into three fiery vortexes.
The demon struggled to stand, now trapped in the midst of the fiery wind. The host’s clothes caught fire as the vortexes converged on him.
Gray focused the remainder of his power in his hands, pulling the magic and mundane apart. The spell dragged the host free and tossed the demon back behind the Veil. The funnel cloud dissipated as though it had never been.
The host fell to his knees and collapsed. Gray sheathed his blade and moved toward him. His pulse was thready. Hefting the man’s body over one shoulder, Gray summoned the bag of artifacts back to him. With both of them in hand, he headed for the house.
The house smelled like fresh blood. Brenna froze on the threshold. Although it was silent, clearly something had happened. “Gray?” she called as she moved toward the stairwell.
No answer.
The sense of wrongness only grew stronger as she climbed the stairs. She felt someone in the hallway above.
“Mira?”
The vampire looked down over the banister at the top of the stairs. “You’re back. We were attacked. Gray is trying to heal someone from your team, but he’s pretty weak.”
Brenna hurried up and grabbed her by the shoulders. “Where are the others?”
Shadows of Fate (Shadow Born) Page 13
