Chasing Shadows (The Initiative Book 1)

by Kindra Sowder

  “Looks like you may be stuck with the ugly scars,” I said to myself. I wasn’t thrilled about the prospect of having this on my body permanently, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it according to the doctor despite how quickly I healed.

  The door cracked open, and I saw one of McGrady’s perfect amber eyes peeking through as he asked, “Ye in hur talkin’ tae yerself?” He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him, checking me over as he did do.

  “This is horrible. It’s ugly, and there’s nothing I can do about it,” I complained, pointing to the nasty wounds on my stomach that would be there as long as I lived.

  His eyes moved over my body, barely registering the terrifying scars and a blush creeping onto my cheeks as I remembered I was only wearing a pair of underwear and no bra.

  “It’s not so bad.”

  I reached into my bag and picked up my bra, slipping into it and hooking it in the back quickly followed by the rest of the clothes he had brought me to put on so I could visit with Constance Rillieux. Hopefully, she would have some answers.

  “Are we ready to go?” I asked, hoping that the doctor had already filed my discharge papers which sometimes had a tendency to take up most of the day. That wouldn’t leave me with enough time to speak to her and see what the demon inside of her had to say before the Vatican showed up to exercise it.

  “Th’ discharge papers ur finished so noq jist waitin’ fur ye. We don’t have a lot ay time fur ye tae gab tae ‘er. Ah was only able tae give ye a half hour visit. Th’ Vatican’s priest is on th’ way so she’ll be exorcised by tha’ efternoon at th’ latest.”

  “Alright,” I quipped as I pulled my shirt over my head and pulled my hair out from within the collar, “then let’s go. I’ll feel better once this is done and over with.”

  I threw on the rest of my clothes and my shoes, and we were out of the building, in McGrady’s government issued Grand Cherokee and on our way to the Initiative’s Preternatural Prison located closer to the swamp on the outside of New Orleans. I had fallen asleep and, before long, I was being shaken awake by McGrady’s warm hands and coddled by his gentle, masculine voice.

  “Izzy, loove. We’re hur.”

  I sat up and stretched, taking in our surroundings. The swamp was a dark shadow next to the bleached brick building we were parked in front of, its vast expanse sprawling out into the distance. The building was enormous, containing not just possessed Voodoo priestesses, but also other preternatural beings that has caused so many problems we had no choice but to lock them away. This included werewolves, vampires, and even a couple dark fey. This particular prison was almost filled to capacity, so we had to send some of the lesser beings to other facilities, holding the more powerful ones we came across in the maximum security prison we were now at with the minimum security prison off in the distance. The Initiative had a pretty sweet set up.

  “I’m ready. Well, part of me is,” I said as I opened the car door and swung my feet out.

  “An’ th’ other part?” he questioned, watching me closely as I stretched again and set my feet on the ground, turning back toward him to look in his eyes.

  “Terrified.”

  “‘En ur ye sure ye want tae do this?”

  My eyes moved to the building in front of us from our position in the middle of the nearly empty parking lot. All official parking for those who worked here was in the back, so it explained the lack of vehicles in this lot. We were both wearing our guns because my weapons hadn’t come in yet, so I felt safe enough.

  “Absolutely.”

  I closed the door, and he got out of the car, following me toward the front door as he clicked the button on the key fob to lock the vehicle behind us. It was muggy outside, causing my shirt to stick to my skin as my sweat mixed with the residue of the shea butter I had used on my nearly healed injuries. The grounds were nicely kept, keeping with the swampy motif that it was surrounded with. The bald cypress trees hung low, the moss hanging off of them swinging in the slight breeze that I couldn’t feel past the stifling humidity.

  If I didn’t know better, I’d say I was swimming toward the building instead of walking. I lifted my foot over the curb and put it down on the sidewalk, the door now within reach and, as I put my hand out to take the handle in my palm, I felt the oppressive energy of Constance Rillieux inside which almost caused me to change my mind about this whole thing. I paused and took a deep breath in through pursed lips, opening the door and letting the cool air wash over me. It caused my sweat to congeal on my flesh, but I kept going and took the few steps toward the front desk where a rather large woman was sitting with horn-rimmed glasses and a white button-up shirt that had a small stain from what I assumed was her lunch barely hiding underneath the collar.

  From beside me, McGrady’s voice echoed through the painfully white halls behind the woman who was typing away furiously at her computer. The name plate on her desk read Alice Savoy; her bleach blonde hair pulled back in a tight bun that it seemed to pull her skin back and raise her eyebrows almost like she had recently gotten a facelift.

  “Jonas McGrady an’ Isabelle Van Helsin’ wi’ th’ Initiative. We have an appointment tae see Constance Rillieux,” he ordered, the woman barely seeming to register him as we stood there and watched her type, her fingers bouncing loudly off of each key.

  “They’re ready to see you. If you’ll take a seat to my left, Warden Lacour will be with you shortly.”

  I had to hold back a scoff when I realized her voice sounded so much like Jane’s at our office that if I hadn’t seen her face, I would’ve thought it was her. We took residence on the black plastic chairs and stared at the sterile walls, not sure what to stay to each other as we waited for the warden to make it to us. Typically, every other time I had been here, I was led to the warden’s office, but this was something completely foreign to me. It only caused me to think that something had happened and that this was one way of beefing up the security by not letting random people walk through the halls without a government official, which technically we were.

  We had been waiting for what felt like an eternity when I finally heard the official footfalls of brand new dress shoes, Warden Lacour making his way toward us as we stood and took the few steps to meet him. I put out my hand, and shook his, McGrady following suit.

  “Van Helsing. McGrady. We’re glad to have you at the Initiative’s Maximum Security Lockup. I have to say it’s been a while since I’ve seen either one of you here. Your request to see Constance Rillieux was a welcome surprise,” Warden Lacour said with a cheerful lilt to his voice as he ran his fingers through his slicked back, ginger red hair. His freckles stood out against his pale skin, making him look closer to his early twenties than his true thirty-five.

  “And looking as young as ever, Warden. What’s your secret?” I joked as his blue eyes met mine and turned to look at McGrady.

  “Don’t tell anyone, but,” he leaned in close to us and whispered playfully, “I bathe in the blood of virgins.” We all laughed at the obvious joke, and he stepped to the side and held his arm out to signal us down the hallway. “Now, if you’ll come this way I’ll take you to the secure visitation ward within the prison. We have to place Constance in the room with the bulletproof two-way mirror as arranged because of the depth of her possession.”

  “Hoo secure is she, Lacour? As ye knoo th’ safety oov Van Helsin’ hur is our number one priority besides th’ murder oov one oov our own.”

  “As secure as we can make her. The best repellent we have found to ensure Miss Van Helsing’s safety is this,” he stopped and pulled a long chain out of his suit pocket, letting the pendant hang in the air between us. “The sigil of the Archangel Michael seems to hold her at bay, so I do ask that you wear this while you are in the room with her. And the FBI has requested to be present while you see her considering the death of one of your ag
ents and the possible connection between her possession and the murder. Another was killed the same night you were attacked.”

  “The same M.O?” I asked as I took the necklace from Lacour and put it over my head, so the pendant came to rest directly over my heart.

  “Yes. Exactly the same,” he answered as we continued to make out way farther into the prison.

  The particular visitation room they placed Constance in was toward the center of the jail so it would take her longer to make it to an exit door just on the chance she made it past the guards and the Initiative agents that worked within it. We walked to the room in silence after the affirmation; the only sounds we could hear were our breathing and our footsteps echoing off of the walls. It didn’t seem as if we had been walking for long when we made it to the gray steel door that was keeping Constance contained in the room. Even if you bound someone that was possessed by something so powerful I could feel its energies through the thick door and outside of the building, there was no guarantee they would remain bound. I was beginning to think it would’ve been a very good idea to contact Leeland’s about my weaponry, but it was too late for that.

  “Okay. Against our protocol, I am letting you keep your gun, just in case. In cases of possession like this some have been able to make it out of their binds and out of the room. If you have to, I do recommend using it. The Vatican won’t be happy, but you’d be safe at least. That’s what matters at this point.” A slight woman with deep black hair, high cheekbones, and a straight, aristocratic nose rounded the corner and stopped beside Lacour; her jacket emblazoned with large yellow letters spelling out ‘F-B-I.’ “This is Special Agent Miranda Stephenson, and she will be sitting in with you while you speak with Mrs. Rillieux and asking questions where necessary. If you believe, she may have some intel on this the FBI wants to know as well.”

  “Isabelle Van Helsing of the Extermination Sector,” I introduced myself as I shook her hand, noticing she was also brandishing the sigil of the Archangel Michael. “And this is Jonas McGrady of the Retrieval Sector.”

  Her brown eyes studied me as she spoke, “I’ve heard a lot about you Miss Van Helsing. Some very impressive work with your previous cases. Maybe one day we can look forward to having you with the FBI.”

  “I hate to tell you agent, but my heart is with the Initiative. Always has been since my parents,” I explained, pointing and nodding to the door. “So, how about we get started?”

  “Sounds good,” she replied as she nodded, adjusting the pendant over her heart.

  “Agent Stephenson?” I asked, turning to look her in the eye as McGrady and Warden Lacour walked to another door five feet away where the observation room for this particular visitation room was located.

  “Yes, Miss Van Helsing?” Her authoritative tone was smooth and clean like she had practiced it in front of the mirror for months when she first gained her position.

  “I understand that the supernatural can be a scary thing. You are used to working with normal, non-preternatural beings. Are you sure you are comfortable with being in here during the questioning?”

  “Yes, Miss Van Helsing. I want to be in that room. It is up to me to help bring this killer to justice, and I want to be a part of this,” she replied. “I’ll be the first within the FBI to deal directly with the supernatural without becoming a part of the Initiative, and I don’t want to miss this experience no matter how scared I am.” Her hand moved up to the pendant resting on her chest like it comforted her in a way. I didn’t blame her, considering it seemed to be the only thing that worked against whatever was possessing Constance until the exorcism took place.

  I nodded and said, “Alright, agent, I’ll let you have your place in history then. Just be prepared for anything. The supernatural can surprise you, even if you’ve been working with them as long as I have. We can even talk battle scars later. My newest one is a shocker.” I looked her directly in the eye and decided to be direct with her. “I’ll even be honest, this is the first time I’ve dealt with a possessed individual, so I have no idea what to expect, which is why they are on the other side of the glass.” I pointed to McGrady and Lacour, who were entering the observation room.

  Her face seemed to turn a sickly shade of green as I opened the door and walked in, making sure she was close enough to me just on the off chance whatever was inside Constance chose to lash out. Granted, all I had was a gun for a little while longer, but I wouldn’t be shy about shooting anyone with it.

  I took a quick glance at the two-way mirror, trying not to make it obvious that someone was behind the glass, but the supernatural always had a way of knowing.

  “Hi Mrs. Rillieux, it is good to see you again,” I said as I made my way to sit across from her at the metal table in the cold metal chair that was in the room. I had no idea why metal was a good idea, but I thought I could tell why. These were made out of iron from the look of it and would also help to protect from whatever entity possessed her. This was the only room prepped for an interrogation of this kind, and I had to say I was grateful for it.

  “Well, Miss Van Helsing, the food here is awful if you can even call that dribble food,” she answered as she took in my appearance, and smiled as her eyes met Agent Stephenson’s. “Who’s your new friend, Isabelle?”

  “Hi, Mrs. Rillieux. I am Special Agent Stephenson of the FBI. How are you today?” She stood against the far wall behind me and crossed her arms in an attempt to close herself off further from whatever was in the room with us now.

  The energy was dark and oppressive, pushing on my body and my ribs making it difficult to breathe, but I pushed forward. I had felt this many times being around Constance and her dark magics, this wasn’t a new feeling, but what lay underneath it was and I could feel it creeping over my flesh. Goosebumps appeared on my arms, and I did what I could to keep myself from rubbing them, and this only caused the smile on Constance’s face to broaden, turning into an evil smirk that I recognized from those horrifying moments within her shop.

  “I have some questions to ask you, Constance. Or well, should I say, whatever is living inside of you at the moment?”

  Constance’s eyes shifted back to me, and that was when I saw it. Something changed in her expression and the way her eyes took in her surroundings, causing the energy in the room to become nearly stifling. I wasn’t sure if Stephenson could feel it, but I kept my attention on the woman in front of me. The bright orange jumpsuit suited her dark skin well, but she looked sick as if her body was trying its best to reject what was inside of her, but couldn’t push it out. As a Voodoo priestess she knew that when something like this grabbed hold of you, there was no letting go unless an exorcism was performed and even that was a fifty-fifty shot, so it was possible Constance was on borrowed time. There was a sharp intake of breath from behind me as Stephenson felt the change. I ignored her, keeping my gaze set upon the woman before me.

  “Do you really think I’d help you, hunter? Really?” she asked, her voice taking on that demonic edge you heard with the possessed. The same tone I had heard in her shop when attacked by her, a shiver running up and down my spine in response to the sound. Even the delicate and professional language and body language of an old woman well beyond her years in knowledge and power was gone, leaving behind the shell of her with her true self trapped inside. Smothered by a presence that no one could fathom.

  “I didn’t have any illusions, but I was hoping you’d be able to point me in the right direction,” I replied.

  Constance closed her eyes and took a deep breath in, smirking as she took in the stench of fear on the air. I couldn’t smell it, but I could sense it. It was rolling off of Stephenson like cheap perfume, strong and potent. I glanced back at the woman to find her hand still over the pendant of the Archangel Michael we were both wearing and turned quickly back to Constance, her eyes open and staring at me with dilated pupils so large her eyes looked black
. I held my ground, staying in the same position in my chair and not looking away. That was the only way to handle evil from the other side in this forum. I had never encountered it myself until now, but I was trained well and trained by the best. My parents had taught me well.

  “That one’s fear is so delicious, hunter. You should be afraid too. What’s coming for you is even more terrifying than me.” She shook her head and pursed her lips. “Even I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.”

  I leaned forward and wove my fingers together on the table. “So there have been whispers?”

  “Oh, when are there not whispers coming from that place,” she said as she pointed toward the floor, hinting at what lay way down underneath it. “You just have to determine which are true and which aren’t, but this one,” she paused, “is definitely true and it’s coming straight for you. It’s coming for all of you.” She closed her eyes again and listened as if there was a sound only she could hear. “Two dead. Now that’s a shame.” She began to laugh, vile and sick as the sound slithered over my flesh.

  This was how a demon got to you. It wasn’t all floating furniture and spinning heads like in the movies. It was manipulation and scare tactics fueled with viscous energy. I just so happened to be immune to that kind of torment, while I could practically hear Stephenson shaking behind me as she stood there watching the exchange.

  “Eighteen left. Oh, he has so much more work left to do. Maybe he’ll go after the Scot after he’s finished with you. Or maybe he’ll make you watch as he slits him from navel to throat. Those screams would be delicious,” Constance said, igniting anger in me that I had been attempting to hold down deep inside of me.