Logan seemed about to say something, but didn’t. He nodded instead. “All right.”
“I’m going to take a shower. Be back in a few.” Leaving the kitchen, I ran over the last week. Aside from the lie about the elf kissing me – which wasn’t my fault anyway – I hadn’t done anything horrible enough to make Nick not trust me.
But if he didn’t, well, our relationship was over just as it was beginning to be one to me.
Twenty-seven
My plan was simple: get in, get our things, and get out.
To my relief, no one was present when I popped into Thorandryll’s bedroom to leave the gown and retrieve our things. While Logan exchanged running shoes for boots, I called the office. “It’s me. Any word on Kate?”
“Good morning. She is awake and demanding a hair regrowth spell.” Whitehaven’s response conveyed a smile.
“Great. Did Nick find anything last night?” I collected the laptop and my purse when Logan stood up. He pointed at the door, and when I nodded in response, led the way outside.
“No.”
“Is he there?”
“Yes.”
“Would you ask him to meet us at 2214 East Belvedere, Apt 16 B? I have a lead I want to check out.” Locking the front door, I turned in time to see Logan letting the hound in on the passenger side of his truck.
“He’ll be there,” Whitehaven replied after a moment. “Logan and the hound are still with you?”
“Yeah, and we’re heading there now.” I glanced around while walking toward the truck. “We’re all fine.”
“Excellent.” We ended the call as I slid to the middle of the seat, and after promising to report the results of my new lead. I’d already checked the Zoe shimmer several times, but did again while wondering what sort of horrors the girl had suffered.
My decision to call Mitchell was met by his secretary informing me that he’d yet to arrive at the office. There was no answer at the Mitchell house. Uneasiness caused a case of the internal squirms, so I called the Detective Division. Schumacher answered. “It’s probably nothing, but can you go check an address for me? I have a client we haven’t been able to get in touch with.”
“This client involved with last night’s dead body?”
“I think so, but not as a suspect.”
He grunted. “All right. I’ll let you know what I find.”
“Thanks.” Ending the call, I dropped the phone in my purse and sighed. Leglin snuffled my hair. “Are you all better now?”
“He’s fine.” Logan signaled a turn. “Had a look while you were showering.”
“Thanks.” Petting the hound, I tried to ignore my growing uneasiness, and the weird spikes of urgency that punctuated it. Rushing seldom helped anything.
We arrived before Nick, and I remembered to call my mom. Reassuring her that I was fine, followed by a promise to call again later, calmed her anxiety to a dull roar.
“There’s Nick.” I left my purse in the truck. He was out of his before we reached it and half-crushed me with a hug.
He kissed me, a grin followed on its heels. “Cordi.”
“Hi.” Returning the grin, I basked in his relieved happiness. “Ready for some work?”
“Sure.” He nodded a greeting to Logan, who returned the gesture.
“Number 16 B,” I said, and we began searching.
Less than five minutes passed before Logan called, “Here.”
We met in front of the dark gray door trimmed in white. The complex’s color scheme of choice was subdued and tasteful, with each building painted a soft, pale gray with white accents. A small, brushed-nickel plate beside the door was engraved with 16 B in flowing script. I bet the rent was twice as high as mine.
“Let me check.” I used telepathy to determine the apartment was empty, as were those around it, aside from pets. “All clear.”
Just a second of concentration and the lock clicked. I grabbed Nick’s wrist as he reached for the doorknob. “Don’t touch anything.”
“Let me go in.”
“Sure.” Stepping back and using TK to push the door wide open, I said, “Take a really good sniff.”
He nodded. “What am I sniffing for?”
“Dead Guy and Mitchell.”
Nick went inside, and we watched him sniff the air. Once he disappeared through a door, I studied the living room. No signs of any struggle. He reappeared. “Dead Guy, no. Mitchell, yes. His scent’s all over the bed, mixed with hers.”
“Okay. They were involved. Our new question is whether Mitchell knew about her being a member of the cult or not.” Frowning, I used my abilities to shut and lock the door once Nick was outside. “We’re going to his office.”
My cell phone rang while we walked back to the vehicles. “Jones here.”
“Hope you already got paid.” Schumacher paused. “Woman, age about forty, apparent suicide at the address you sent me to.”
Failure washed over me. Poor Mrs. Mitchell. “I’ll bet five it wasn’t suicide. Her husband may be involved in her daughter’s disappearance.”
“I’ll pay him a visit.”
“We’re about to do that. If he’s involved, demons could show up.”
The detective cursed for a whole minute. “Fine. You handle him, but I want full disclosure, Jones.”
“That’s my middle name.”
He snorted. “Your middle name’s Angel. Go, and call me after.”
Ending the call, I marshaled my troops. “Nick and I will go talk to Mitchell. Logan, will you go to the office and fill Whitehaven in?”
“Sure.” Opening his truck, he pulled out the sword to hand it over to Nick. My purse followed. “Laptop?”
“It can go with you.”
“All right. You three be careful.”
“We will.” Nick was putting the sword in the backseat of his truck. Leglin came at my call, and we piled in. I waved at the other shifter as he pulled out of the parking lot.
A moment later, we were doing the same. Nick glanced at me. “So what happened last night?”
I filled him in, including the vision and how Logan was pulled into it. “Before you say anything, he was dressed and on top of the covers. It wasn’t his fault.”
Jaw clenched, he stared ahead. “Nick?”
“What the hell was he doing in bed with you?”
I winced. “Protecting me. It was Thorandryll’s bedroom, and I didn’t want to be left alone.”
Another glance, this one more searching. Nick growled. “You lied to me about the elf. He kissed you that day.”
Crap. “Yeah, I did, and he did. It wasn’t any of your business and I handled it.”
“We’re sleeping together. How the hell can it not be my business?” He hit the brakes, narrowly avoiding the rear end of a car ahead of us that was stopping for a light.
My seatbelt tightened as I jerked forward. “Ouch. It wasn’t your business because I didn’t know what we were doing then. I didn’t ask him to kiss me or flirt with him.”
Nick was grinding his teeth, so I kept talking. “That vision I had handling the red silk? It appeared again, from a different perspective when I was checking out the crime scene. Thorandryll took advantage of the moment.”
He was glaring at the light, and his eyes had changed colors. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, okay? But personal life can’t be a consideration on the job.” No response. Piqued, I added, “Just so you know, if I did ever decide to do something with another guy, I’d break up with you first. I don’t cheat, Nick.”
Expelling a hard sigh, he relaxed. “You told him we were involved. Are we, or did you say it because you were mad?”
“Well, we didn’t start out the way I’m used to doing this kind of thing, but….” The light changed, so I paused until the truck was moving again. “Yeah. You’re my boyfriend.”
“Which is why you told me about Logan.” It wasn’t a question. “If the elf pulls something else…?”
“I’ll tell you ASAP,” I promised.
“Okay.”
“You’re not mad at Logan, are you? It really wasn’t his fault. He didn’t do anything on purpose.”
Nick half-smiled. “Yeah, I am, but I’ll get over it.”
His eyes were brown again. I smiled back. “Okay. Good.”
He patted the empty space next to him, and I unbuckled the seatbelt to scoot over.
Twenty-eight
“You can’t go in there.” Mitchell’s secretary, a short, gray-haired woman with a stern face, tried to block the doors to the conference room.
“Move, or I’ll move you.” Nick’s growl bared his teeth, and his eyes changed to gold. She flinched, meeting them, and then slowly eased right, clearing our path. I pushed the double doors wide open, immediately spotting Mitchell, who sat at the head of a long, rectangular table. There were about a dozen other people present, sitting on each side of it.
They all stared as we walked into the room.
“Miss Jones.” Mitchell frowned. “This isn’t a good time.”
“Too bad. Your wife’s dead, but I’m betting you already know that.” Shield down, I watched him closely.
“What?” Perfect shock appeared on his face, but his uppermost emotions were anger and worry.
“You do surprised well, and I’d be convinced if empathy wasn’t one of my abilities.”
Mitchell held the façade, offering wide eyes and a tremble in his voice. “I don’t understand.”
“Do you have any idea how hard it is to lie to a psychic?” Giving Nick a nudge, I smiled. “It’s extremely hard. Where is Zoe?”
He flushed as eyes turned his way. “We hired you to find her.”
“Your wife hired me. As I recall, you didn’t seem to give a damn about the girl.” By then, Nick was in place behind him. “Where is Zoe?”
I hoped he’d think something about her location, but instead, gibberish rose in his mind. Nick snarled, grabbing Mitchell’s shoulders. “He’s casting a spell.”
Shifters could feel or smell magic? News to me. The warning was a trigger, sending those at the table scurrying for the doorway. Jostled as they retreated, I lost focus and contact with Mitchell’s mind. What I couldn’t miss was his eyes turning inky black. “Nick, he’s poss….”
Mitchell lunged to his feet, and the shifter hit the plate glass window behind the head of the conference table. It shattered, and I screamed as he fell out of sight.
We were four stories up.
“Now we’re alone,” the newly arrived demon wearing Mitchell said. He smirked while straightening his jacket. “Let’s make a deal, little girl. You for the other one.”
“No way.” Shoving my hand into my purse, I dug for the dagger but didn’t locate it. Instead, I got a clear image of it lying on my kitchen table. “Crap.”
“You really don’t have a choice.” The demon began walking down the left side of the table.
“Oh, yeah? That’s what you think.” I waited until he was only a few feet away before teleporting to the window. Then I jumped.
I’d planned and my panic wasn’t strong enough to interfere with my abilities. A cushion of thick air broke my fall, and I landed next to Nick’s sprawled body. Blood spread from underneath his head in a widening pool. “Oh God. Nick?”
“How touching,” Mitchell drawled from behind me. Twisting around, falling on my ass, I gaped at him, unable to figure out how he’d gotten there. “The wolf’s dying, just as you will.”
With his first step, a grin stretched across his face. I scrambled away, trying to make it to my feet, and fell again as Leglin appeared from nowhere. The hound growled, his head lowered and hackles raised. It was my turn to grin. “Meet my friend. He eats demons for breakfast.”
Mitchell wasn’t eager to stick around, and with a ferocious scowl, faded from view.
“Oh, you are the best boy. Steak for dinner.” I praised the hound while crawling back to Nick’s side. “Come here. We have to get him to the hospital.”
With a hand on each, I teleported us to the ER of Santo Trueno General. “I need help now!”
Good luck was finally on my side, because Dr. Jamison was at the nurses’ station. He’d been one of my doctors during and after my coma. “What happened?”
“A demon threw him through a fourth-floor window. He’s a shifter.”
“All right. Are you hurt?” Jamison checked Nick’s pulse.
“No.”
“Then get the dog out of my ER. Is he an associate?”
“Yeah, Nick works with me.” I bent to kiss the shifter’s forehead. “The boss will take care of the paperwork. Don’t let him die.”
“Don’t intend to. Dog, out.” He began calling out orders, and grabbing Leglin’s collar, I teleported to the office.
Right into Whitehaven’s office, in front of his desk. He frowned. “Discordia. Are you injured?”
There was blood on my jeans. The warmth of it made my stomach roil. “Nick is. Mitchell called a demon and it possessed him. He threw Nick out of the window. Four stories. I got him to the hospital,” I was babbling, and stopped to calm down. “He was unconscious and bleeding really bad.”
The boss already had his phone in hand, and I squeaked as someone touched my arm. It was Logan. “You all right?”
“He’ll be okay, won’t he?”
His smile was reassuring. “He’s a shifter. We’re pretty tough. Sit down and give yourself a few minutes.”
Hand still clamped around Leglin’s collar, I shook my head. “The sword’s still in his truck, and I left the damn dagger at home. We need them.”
Before he could respond, I teleported.
There were police on the scene, but no one saw us when we appeared next to Nick’s truck. Using telekinesis to unlock it, I decided it shouldn’t be left there. Leglin jumped in, and I began searching for an extra set of keys the second my butt touched the seat.
There weren’t any. “Crap.”
Digging out my cell phone, I called Schumacher. “Hey.”
“Damn it all, Jones. What the hell happened over there?” He sounded relieved.
“Aw, were you worried about me?” I grinned as he sputtered, leaning forward to rest my head against the steering wheel. “If you’ll shut up, I’ll tell you.”
He mumbled under his breath when I finished. “All right. Now tell me what all of this shit means.”
“It means big trouble.”
Sarcasm dripped from his response. “I realize that much, Jones.”
“Mitchell’s possessed. My boss said that means his soul is gone, and can’t return to his body. If you see him, shoot him.”
Schumacher grunted. “Will that work?”
“Probably not, but it might give you time to run.” That earned a brief laugh. “Where’s Damian? He can banish demons.”
“He’s,” the detective paused. “Oh shit. He’s here.”
I sat up. “Damian?”
“Mitchell.”
“Get out of there. Everyone out now.” Before I finished, the connection went dead. Punching redial resulted in three rings and shunting to voicemail. Leglin whined.
“We’re going.” I found the sword, took hold of his collar, and teleported to the lawn of the Mitchell house.
Two cops were down, EMTs bent over them. Shots sounded from inside the house. I released the hound and let my purse fall to the grass. Hefting the sword, I said, “Let’s go.”
We ran inside, and I yelled at the hound to stay the instant we reached the living room.
“Drop the sword, witch, or one of the humans will die.” Mitchell sneered over Schumacher’s shoulder. His hand was wrapped around the detective’s neck.
There were three other cops, each held by a demon. I could get out, teleport. They couldn’t. I bent and laid the sword on the thick beige carpet. “All right. Let them go.”
“You don’t make the demands. Send the hound away.”
“No.”
Schumacher gagged as the demon’s hand tightened. “I
will kill him. Send the hound away.”
“You must think I’m pretty damn stupid. They’ll all die anyway, if you work the spell. You have Zoe, so why are you screwing around here?”
Mitchell laughed, a broken sound that grated the air. “Trying to gather information?”
Demons weren’t stupid. I added that tidbit to my list. “I know that I can mess everything up, and that’s why you want to kill me.”
“Send the hound away, and the humans go free. Otherwise,” Schumacher’s face began turning red and a rasping wheeze escaped him. “They die now.”
“Leglin, go to Mr. Whitehaven.” The hound looked up and whined. “Go to him right now.” He looked at Mitchell, silently baring his teeth, and then disappeared. “Okay, now let them go.”
The four men were released, and the detective stumbled towards me, gasping for breath. “Jones…”
“Get out.” Until they were clear, I was stuck. “Hurry the hell up.”
He hesitated for a second longer, and then went. Mitchell was smiling. “How fortunate that you have some sense.”
“Depends on your point of view.” The door shut behind me. I dropped and grabbed for the sword, intending to teleport the hell out of there, but a clawed foot stomped down on the blade.
Its mate kicked, hitting me in the shoulder as I rolled away. Before I could leave, another demon had a handful of my hair, and we were suddenly elsewhere. I tried to teleport, and fire raked my brain, causing me to squeal in pain.
“This is our realm, Miss Jones. Your magic won’t work here.”
Blinking away tears, I managed to glare at him. “Lucky for you.”
“And not for you. Put her with the girl,” Mitchell ordered, and the green gargoyle began to drag me away.
The only bright spot I could find was that I’d finally found Zoe.
Twenty-nine
The tunnel it was dragging me through was made of the same dark gray stone of the sacrificial cavern. I winced as one of the demon’s claws poked into my arm. “Hey, watch it.”
“Hold silent, witch.” Its voice sounded like gravel sliding downhill.
“I’m not a witch, or you’d be toast. I’m a psychic.” Arguing what I was wouldn’t really help, but might distract it a little. “It’s not magic, but brainpower, lizard face.”
Arcane Solutions (Discord Jones) Page 21
