Dark Protector

by Alexis Morgan

  “Penn said you wanted to talk to me.”

  “I left something on your desk.”

  “Don’t make me guess. I’m not in the mood.”

  D.J. stood up and stretched. “It’s a nice puzzle for you to figure out.”

  Devlin led the parade into his office. A bunch of small, wadded-up rags were piled in the middle of his desk. “What the hell are those?”

  He picked one up. It looked like a small drawstring bag that had been slit open across the bottom. The fabric was thick and soft, but other than that unremarkable.

  “Where did they come from?” He suspected he already knew the answer. If they didn’t have something to do with the Others, D.J. wouldn’t be bothering him with them.

  “We found them under one of the guards who was slaughtered.” Cullen held out his hands for Devlin to toss him one. “We’ve already run some preliminary tests on a couple of them.”

  “And?” He wasn’t going to like the answer. He just knew it.

  “They came from across the barrier.”

  Devlin dropped the bag as if he’d been burned. Feeling foolish, he poked at the pile to show that he wasn’t really afraid of any possible contamination. After all, when they collected the bodies of the Others, they all came into contact with their clothes without injury. Maybe. No one really knew what factors caused the Paladins to become more violent. It might come from their frequent exposure to the aliens and their artifacts.

  “Anything else special about them?”

  “They were all slit open with the same knife—standard guard issue, by the way. We found the knife, but no fingerprints or identifying marks.”

  Devlin untied the knot that held a bag tightly closed. It took a little effort, but it was possible. Cutting them open meant whoever wielded the knife was in one hell of a hurry.

  “Any residue inside the bags?”

  D.J. nodded. “A couple had some crystalline dust in them. It’s nothing we recognized, although that’s no surprise. Research is repeating the tests. They promised to have the new results back to us by tomorrow.”

  No one had ever been either brave enough or stupid enough to cross the barrier to check out the world on the other side. Considering how much the Others risked on a chance to escape, the place had to be the stuff nightmares were made of.

  Something about the bag nudged at a memory, but it wouldn’t quite kick loose.

  “Any idea what these things might mean?”

  Cullen ticked off his ideas on his fingers. “First, they’re not from here, so the Others must have brought them across. Second, they must have held something of value, because the Others normally only bring weapons and the clothes on their backs with them. And third, someone on this side must have agreed about the valuable nature of the items, or they wouldn’t have killed the guards to get their hands on the stuff.”

  The fourth, unspoken possibility was that it hadn’t been the Others who slaughtered the guards. That didn’t bear thinking about, but it tied in with the attack on Devlin himself. A human had gone rogue. If Cullen wasn’t willing to bring up the possibility, he had to.

  He turned away from the pile of bags to face his friends. “There’s something about my latest death that you should know. We were on a routine check of the barrier when a portion of it came down with no warning. Luckily, only a dozen or so of the Others managed to get across before we got it repaired. While Trahern and a couple of his men stayed behind to make sure it didn’t happen again, the rest of us took off after the escapees. I tracked two of them who were heading up toward the surface.”

  He closed his eyes, trying to recapture even the smallest of details, but most of the rest was clouded by remembered pain. Cullen prodded him.

  “What happened to the Others?”

  “We fought. I remember killing one about halfway up the north tunnel, but the second one disappeared while we were fighting. I had started to search for him when from out of nowhere, he came flying at me swinging an ax. I don’t know where the hell he got it, because he didn’t have it with him when he crossed over.” Of its own accord, his hand reached down to rub the ache in his leg. “I managed to hold him off for a few seconds, but then someone else came out of the darkness. He was the one who gutted me.”

  “Did you get a good look at him?”

  “Not his face, but I remember his hands.” He held one of his own out in front of him. “His skin was this color, not pasty gray. I was killed by a human, not an Other.”

  “The hell you say! We’ll kill the son of a bitch twice over!” D.J. glared around the room, as if their unknown enemy might be lurking in a corner. His quick temper had him pacing like a caged lion.

  Cullen, always the calm one in the group, shook his head. “No, we won’t. Retribution will have to wait, because we need him to talk first. There’s obviously more going on here than just an attack on Devlin.” He laid it all out for them. “Devlin gets killed—nothing special about that. But judging by the fact they’d brought along an ax, I suspect they meant for it to be permanent.”

  Devlin’s breath caught in his throat. He’d been thinking the same thing, but he didn’t like hearing that he was right. No one came back from dismemberment. “Then what stopped them?”

  “You hadn’t been dead long, maybe only a few seconds, when we found you. Chances are they heard us coming and panicked.” Cullen frowned. “Come to think of it, there were two dead Others by your body, but I don’t remember either of them having an ax. If you didn’t finish the second one off, then your killer must have.”

  D.J.’s smile was chilling. “Their partner was tying up loose ends. Can’t trust anybody these days.”

  “Then there’s the little matter of my sword being found stuck in the barrier,” Devlin said. “With all the power shimmering along that stretch, the bastard’s lucky he didn’t get fried.” And too damn bad that he hadn’t, although Cullen was right. They needed to question the son of a bitch before exacting any revenge. He’d have to content himself with being the one who convinced the traitor to start talking. His hands clenched into fists in anticipation.

  “Too bad you never saw his face. Any of the guards have it in for you?”

  Devlin walked over to his weapons and ran his thumb along the edge of a knife. It was already sharp, but he needed something to keep his hands busy. He picked up a whetting stone. “None of them are fond of us. But, no, not that I know of. I make a habit of cooperating with them. I might not like to be herded around at gunpoint, but it’s their job.”

  And their vigilance kept Laurel safe from a potentially rogue Paladin. For that reason alone he would put up with Purefoy and his buddies. Devlin stroked the knife slowly over the stone, letting his mind move down different pathways. “I think you are right about it being a guard or someone else in Ordnance. No one else could access the tunnels without setting off an alarm. Besides us, there’s no one else who would know the tunnels well enough to pull off something like this.”

  “Do you think it was planned, or spur of the moment?”

  “We don’t know enough yet to make that guess. I could have walked in on something without realizing it.” He poked at the bags with his knife. “I’d bet my favorite sword that someone has made a deal with the devil. Those were made to hold something small, something valuable enough to kill for.”

  D.J. picked one up by its strings. “The material is thicker than you’d expect—maybe to cushion the contents. Or could be to muffle sound.”

  “We’re just playing a guessing game now.” Devlin set his knife down. “D.J., I assume you can slip in and out of the Regents files without being caught.”

  His friend’s smile was feral. “Who do you think designed their security system? Of course, they don’t know that.” He laced his fingers together and then pushed them out to arm’s length in a knuckle-cracking stretch. “What are we looking for?”

  “I’m not sure yet. Start with the guards’ schedules the night I was killed. We might not be able to pinpo
int our culprit, but we should be able to eliminate a few names. Those on duty at Research, for instance.”

  “Will do. I’ll also check out financial records. If someone is dealing with the other side, there’ll be a money trail somewhere.” He dropped the bag and headed for the door.

  “I’d better go with him,” Cullen said. “He’s good, but not infallible. Once he gets on the scent, there’s no turning him back without someone there to jerk his leash.” Cullen followed his friend out of the office. “Watch your back, Devlin. They’ve come after you once. They’re likely to do so again.”

  What kind of fool would form an alliance with those bastards?

  The shrill ring of his phone cut off his thoughts, as he grabbed the receiver and snapped, “Bane here.”

  “You’re late for your appointment.”

  Laurel was the last person he wanted to see. “I’m canceling.”

  “No, you’re not. Dr. Neal rescinded your release until you finish up the tests he ordered. You can come quietly like the good little soldier you are, or I can send the guards.”

  “Keep those watchdogs of yours away from me, Doctor, and your needles, as well. I’m busy.”

  She had her own fair share of stubbornness. “They are not my watchdogs, Devlin.” The use of his first name was deliberate, a less than subtle nudge that there was more between them than just the patient-doctor relationship.

  His bad mood wasn’t her fault. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to ward off a headache. “I’ll come back when I can, Laurel. There’s something going on here that requires my attention.”

  “Devlin, I know your job is important, but you can’t do it if you don’t take care of yourself. Now get over here before I send in the troops.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Please.”

  With the mood his men were in, the last thing he needed was a bunch of armed guards showing up to drag him away. It didn’t bear thinking about.

  “Fine. Give me a couple of hours.”

  “Do you want me to send a car?”

  “No. I said I’d be there and I will.”

  He slammed the phone down, effectively ending the discussion. Picking up his knife, he stared at it for a long second. Then with a flick of his wrist and a string of obscenities, he sent it sailing through the air to stab the wall across the room. He stomped over to yank it free, wishing he had a living target for his anger.

  There was no use in trying to get any work done with the mood he was in; he might as well go to the Armory to repair the edge on his sword. Though the Regents employed arms masters to keep the Paladins’ weapons in top condition, Devlin preferred to do the job himself.

  Most of the Paladins found some way to temporarily forget the war they fought each and every day. For Devlin, the hours he spent honing his blades brought him some peace. Repairing his sword would ease some of his anger before he had to report back to Research. The last thing he needed was for their damn tests to be skewed because of his bad mood.

  On the way out, he caught Cullen’s eye. “Dr. Young called. Seems Dr. Neal has ordered more tests to make sure I’m fit for duty. It’s bullshit and we both know it, but if I don’t jump through the hoops, there’ll be hell to pay.”

  His friend gave him an odd look and then nodded. “Watch your back. We know some of the guards might be involved, but that doesn’t mean they’re the only ones.”

  Which meant he was probably a fool for walking the streets of Seattle alone, but he’d be damned if he’d let some sniveling guardsman scare him into hiding. Besides, it was broad daylight. If someone was going to come after him, it would be more likely under the cover of night. He left the building and slipped down the alley past Penn.

  “Keep your eyes wide open, Devlin. You want me to shadow you for a while?”

  “No.”

  “I figured as much.” Penn settled back into position. “Cullen said for you to check in when you get to Research.”

  Damn Cullen. He should have known his friend would have put the word out as soon as they suspected there was a problem. He could take care of himself, and they all knew it. The only reason he didn’t go charging back in to pound some sense into the man was that he would have done the same if the situation had been reversed.

  “Okay—this time. But tell him I don’t need a baby-sitter.”

  “Will do.”

  Chapter 6

  The minute hand crept toward the twelve. In another sixty seconds, Devlin would officially be late. He took perverse pleasure in making them wonder if he’d show up. Once he was inside the building, he tossed his knife and throwing blades on the counter as he sailed past the guard station.

  “I’m here. Let’s get on with it.”

  Three of the guards snapped up their rifles and scrambled after him to form an escort. Damn, he hated incompetence. If they were under his command, he would have kicked their asses for being so slipshod. He didn’t bother to wait for clearance into Laurel’s lab. He shoved the doors open and let his ragtag companions follow as they would.

  Inside, Laurel was nowhere to be seen. He turned on the corporal at his side. “Okay, where is she?”

  Before the young soldier could sputter out an answer, Dr. Neal appeared from behind some filing cabinets. “Dr. Young isn’t here right now. I’m filling in for her.” He nodded at the guardsmen. “Thank you, gentlemen, for showing Mr. Bane in.”

  After they were gone, Dr. Neal looked up at him over the top of his glasses. “Mr. Bane, I know how frustrating it is for you to have to follow our protocols, but I would appreciate your making some effort in that direction.”

  “Doctor, if I had gone rogue, I’d have had time to kill the whole bunch of those half-trained buffoons before any of them got off one shot. Shaking them up once in a while helps keep them on their toes.”

  “That’s not your responsibility, although I will mention the incident to Colonel Kincade. It would seem that some of the newer recruits are a bit lax. And in light of what happened earlier, you’d think they’d know better.”

  A sick feeling settled in Devlin’s stomach. “What happened?”

  “Nothing of concern to you. Have a seat and roll up your sleeve.”

  While Dr. Neal wrapped a tourniquet around his arm and patted the inside of his elbow to raise a vein, Devlin looked around the lab for any clues about what had happened earlier.

  There was a good-size dent in the side of a filing cabinet that hadn’t been there before, and one of Laurel’s potted plants was definitely looking a little worse for the wear. What had gone on in the two hours since he’d talked to her?

  Dr. Neal noticed that Devlin was looking everywhere except at his arm. “Still hate needles, I see.” There was a wicked twinkle in his eyes as he applied a small bandage to the wound. This one had kittens on it. No doubt they’d been on sale, too.

  “I want another X-ray on that leg. It was a worse-than-usual break, and I know it’s still bothering you more than you will admit. You’ve been favoring that leg, especially after taking over the fighting in the tunnels.”

  “My leg is fine.” And how would Dr. Neal know a damn thing about how he felt after fighting those two Others? Were the tunnels wired for cameras, or had one of his friends been talking behind his back?

  “Then the X-ray will show that, won’t it?” Dr. Neal calmly pushed the button on the intercom. “Please escort Mr. Bane to Radiology. You’ll need to wait to bring his films back to me.”

  Devlin left without a word. If Dr. Neal didn’t want to talk about what had happened, maybe one of the guards would. It didn’t take a genius to know that he was making them more nervous than usual. What the hell had happened? If something had gone wrong with one of his friends, he would have heard about it before he’d left the Center.

  The technician in Radiology was new. She positioned Devlin’s leg on the table and then scurried behind her shield to take the X-ray. That was the last he saw of her until she practically shoved an envelope containing his films at him.


  “Tell Dr. Neal that I’ll pick up the X-rays later. No need for you to bring them back. No need at all.”

  Then she disappeared back into the warren of hallways and exam rooms. Damn, if she was that skittish around him, she wouldn’t last long working for the Regents. He and the others were unpredictable at the best of times. At their worst, it took cool heads and steady hands to keep them under control.

  At their worst.

  Aw, hell, had somebody crossed the line? Kincade had brought in some reinforcements from other sectors to help out while Mount St. Helens was throwing her weight around. If one of them had been too far gone to save, he wouldn’t have necessarily heard about it. Son of a bitch! Maybe he was jumping to conclusions, but the explanation felt right.

  Every Handler knew the day would come when they would have to put down one of their charges. Most of the time one of the more experienced doctors would step in to assist, but what if Laurel had been alone? If a Paladin had a reputation of being close to the edge like Trahern, she might have had another doctor on standby just in case. But with an unfamiliar patient, she may not have had any warning. No one knew what pushed a Paladin over the edge to becoming Other.

  He stepped up the pace back to the lab, forcing his escort into a trot to keep up. Inside the lab, Devlin tossed the films down on the counter in front of Dr. Neal.

  “Who was it?”

  The older man looked up from the chart he’d been reading. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “I doubt that you knew him. He was a recent transfer from another of the Pacific Rim sectors.”

  Devlin felt a little guilty for feeling relieved that the dead Paladin wasn’t one of his friends. “How did she handle it?”

  Once again, Dr. Neal didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “She took it hard. No surprise there.” His dark eyes filled with grief. “We all do, you know. It isn’t easy to hold the power of life and death over a man, especially one who has spent his life keeping the rest of us safe.”

  “Where is she?”

  “I sent her home.”

  She shouldn’t be alone, but Devlin didn’t say so. The last thing either of them needed was for her boss to get suspicious about Devlin’s interest in her. He nudged the envelope to bring Dr. Neal’s attention back to the matter at hand.