by T. G. Ayer
“I’m sorry, Kai. I’m almost sure she’s too weak. She’s pale and she looked very undernourished. A jump could kill her.”
Kai’s face crumpled and her shoulders slumped.
“We can still go in, Kai. We just need to be well prepared.”
She nodded, schooling her features and I admired her strength. At least she wasn’t collapsing into a pile of damsel-in-distress. “Will we need backup?” she asked.
“Yes, I usually don’t go anywhere without knowing what I’m up against. I don’t always have the luxury of backup, but when I do have it, I take it, no questions asked. It’s always better to go in with company.”
“I can arrange a few people,” Kai said.
“I can wrangle a couple as well, if needed,” I offered, determined to help.
“That depends on what you saw. What are we up against? How many Wraiths in the building? How secure is her prison?”
I fell silent and did a quick projection, returning a few minutes later. “So there are two guards on each corner of the building, two at the end of the drive. Inside, spread along all three floors, there are forty odd Wraiths, and they have weapons.”
“Weapons? Not spears and swords?”
I shook her head, worried now. “No, they have guns, revolvers and rifles.”
“Looks like they’ve upgraded.” Kai’s jaw tightened. “So it means we have to amp up our ammo as well.”
“Do you have sufficient Wraith ammo?”
Kai pursed her lips. “I’m not sure. I wasn’t planning on an all-out war. And with Tara gone, I can’t commission more ammo.” She sighed and rubbed she forehead. “Right. Are there guards where they’re holding her?”
“No. They have her sealed from the outside, in that commercial fridge. There are vents near the ceiling so she does have air. But she’s weak, hooked up to what looked like an IV. She’ll need to be carried out.”
Kai nodded. “Okay. What about other jumpers?”
“The more jumpers the better, I say.”
“I think I can round up one or two,” she said.
I smiled, about to ask her if she’d be calling Saleem. Then I figured it was best not to bring any attention to our relationship. Not just yet.
Kai’s eyebrows rose slightly, probably curious, but all she said was, “Okay, so how much time do you need?”
“Half a day? A day at most?”
“So tomorrow, sundown?”
“Yeah, if we could time it to the instant the sun sets, we have an advantage. They are at their weakest at change of light.”
“Okay, so sunset and sunrise makes them weak. Are they stronger at night?” I asked.
Kai nodded, her expression saying she’d rather be talking about something else.
“I thought so. Too late for an early morning raid, unless you can round up your people that quickly?” I looked at Kai expectantly.
Kai rose, her expression determined. “Let’s aim for sunrise,” Kai said, reaching for her phone.
Seconds later we were both on the phone, gathering our people.
Thirty minutes later, Kai had received most of her confirmations. When she almost slammed down her cell I looked up. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m trying to get a hold of Logan, but he must be on a job. He’s not answering.” She inhaled deeply although I couldn’t be sure it actually helped to ease her frustration.
“I’m about to call Saleem. Do you want me to ask him if he knows where Logan is?”
Kai raised her eyebrow, sending me a suggestive look. Which in turn made my face hot. When Kai’s expression turned triumphant I glared at her and started to dial.
Ten minutes later Logan was on the line with Kai. I left them to talk although my ears did perk up when she implied that the Omega agents would have issues with Kai’s Sentinel contacts. I hoped not.
I got to my feet as she cut the call. “I have to go home, but I will be back soon. I’ll come back with my car and hopefully with my partner. I’d rather not do too many jumps right now. Not until it’s necessary.”
I smiled, then jumped.
Chapter 23
I knew I was going to be in trouble for jumping when it wasn’t necessary, but there were two reasons I tried to remain as stubborn as I’ve always been about using my talent.
One, if I had to suddenly change my attitude and actually listen to Drake, he’d know immediately that something was up. He knew me too damned well.
And two, I was not about to let some undead evil spirit get the best of me.
Who the hell would do such a thing anyway? I’d been so busy with Gia and her father, with Kai and Saleem and their mothers, that I’d had little time to wallow in self pity. But then I wasn’t really the type to wallow. I tended to throw things.
And punch stuff up.
The house was empty when I arrived. I dropped my bag on the kitchen table and I took the opportunity to hurry upstairs. Too wired to do mundane things like shower and sleep, I threw on shorts and a sports bra, and headed to the basement.
I’d moved back into my childhood home a couple years back, but I’d brought company. Drake, however much he’d like to believe it, was far from housetrained. That he was able to cook a three course meal was astounding.
The guy had been incapable of boiling water. After moving into the house, Steph and I had left him to his own devices as he scoped out the place. Little did I know what was in store for my basement when he’d expressed an interest in a gym. I had said my house was his. I never realized I may regret it.
Granted, Drake had insisted that we all needed it.
I descended the punched metal stairs, and scanned the space. One entire wall that spanned the length of the house was covered in glass. To the observer the glass appeared to be one single sheet. But Drake possessed a special skill, able to manipulate any of the earth’s natural elements. He had enough talent to smooth the edges of each of the glass panels so well that they blended into each other seamlessly.
I’d had only one concern, and Drake had voiced it as we’d all stood back and examined the stunning wall
It was going to be a bitch to remove.
The three remaining walls were linked with reflective metal panels and were dotted with hooks and shelves. Drake had sourced all the equipment and furnishings, but had kept his dealers identities a secret even from me.
What did he think? I was going to steal them from him?
I smiled as I headed for the treadmill and punched in a strenuous hill-climb program. Drake was good at making and keeping valuable connections though and on many an occasion I’d been grateful for them. Wine, gym equipment or otherwise.
Even now, I benefited as my thighs burned, as sweat dripped off my skin and my breath scorched my lungs. I hated exercise. Absolutely hated it.
But I’d learned a long time ago that sometimes it was better to fight air than to take the battle to people who didn’t even understand what they were fighting for.
So instead, I ran and I cycled and I punched away my anger and frustration, my depression and my pain. Drake had known all along how badly I’d needed the physical part of working off my frustrations and the man had been smart enough to find a way.
Years ago, he’d taught me how to fight, honed my skills so well that I could use my hands to kill if I chose.
I didn’t.
Drake and Steph were the only people who knew that I could snap a human’s neck in seconds flat. Only slightly longer for a paranormal.
I wasn’t proud of that skill. Not the way I felt about my astral projection or my teleporting. Or reading auras in the Divide.
As far as I was concerned, some things were better left untold.
My fist slammed into the leather bag, the impact absorbed by the hard-packed sand within. The punching-bag from hell. Drake had always said I’d thank him someday.
I did.
Although I’d never admit it.
So many thoughts fought for space in my head. A missing girl and her
dead mother. A father having convulsions and stuck in a hospital room. An unfeeling sister who manipulates older men.
As cases went, this one was definitely not boring.
Then I had a mother who didn’t want to be saved, and another mother being tortured in captivity, and two children desperate to get them home safe.
Add a little hijacking on the astral highway, and you’d be forgiven for believing I was having a fabulous few days.
And that was without the evil spirit haunting me.
My knuckles hit the bag so hard that it swung wide away from me, the sound vibrating around the room long after the bag returned to me.
Drake caught it on the next blow, the muscles on his forearm taut.
I hated it when he snuck up on me.
Could only mean trouble.
I punched the bag again, and he merely held it in place using his body to absorb the impact. Then he lifted a finger and tapped my elbow. “Don’t drop your elbow.”
His expression said I should obey but it just wasn’t in my nature. I dropped by arms and stared at him.
“What’s your problem?”
He said nothing, just stilled the bag and reached for the disinfectant and paper towels. The anal cleaning routine was my requirement and he performed it with stubborn reluctance.
I sighed. I wasn’t going to get anything out of him right now. Not when his jaw was set so hard it looked like he was about to crush it into pieces. “We have a case,” I said, figuring now was a good a time as any to push his buttons.
He snorted. “Yeah. Missing kid, crazy sister. I heard.”
I rolled my eyes and grabbed a towel to wipe my forehead and neck. “No. This is a missing mother.”
Drakes sigh was pained. “Mel. We’ve talked about this before. You can’t just go and take on case after case without checking to make sure you can handle it. What about the nosebleeds?”
My eyebrows rose. “What the hell does one have to do with the other?” I asked.
Drake gave the punching bag one last vicious rub then balled the paper towels and tossed it into the garbage can behind him. “You know your stubbornness is going to get you into trouble. I’m not always going to be there to bail you out.”
I smiled sweetly. “Maybe not then, but you have to bail me out now.” He glared at me “Sorry dude. A job’s a job.”
“What’s the pay?” he asked as I headed for the stairs. He’d ruined my peace and quiet.
“Peace and love,” I said over my shoulder.
“Mel,” Drake yelled as he rushed after me. I paused on the stairs. “Another charity job?”
I shrugged. “Not sure helping out the Panther Alpha would be considered charity.”
His eyes widened.
“Nor would helping out a friend.”
He was silent, but that muscled throbbed at his tempted and I stepped toward him. Squeezing his arm I said, “Dude. What’s up?”
He was contentious at times but never this antagonistic. His tone was almost brutal.
He’d been acting strangely these last few weeks and I’d left him to it. Gargoyles needed their personal space much like any human did. Plus he didn’t need a mother.
If he’d ever gotten distracted or put me in danger I would have said something, but Drake on the job, was perfection.
Now he stared at me, his expression pained. I’d expected him to storm off, or be a wuss and change the subject but he sighed, turned, and sank onto the stairs.
I stood there confused, not sure what I was expected to do with this show of acquiescence.
He rested his head in his hands, then rubbed his hands over the top of his head. “I haven’t been fair to you.”
Stunned, I sank beside him. “Not sure what you mean.”
“I’ve kept the truth about my past from you. And now that everything is falling apart I’ve been taking it out on you.”
Shaking my head I rested my hand on his biceps. “You haven’t, you know I won’t take your shit even if you gave it.”
He laughed softly. “Typical.”
I nudged him with my shoulder and smiled, letting him take his time.
“I’m a disgrace.”
“Huh?” I raised an eyebrow.
But he was looking into the distance, seeing something I would never be privy to. “I’m a warrior. I’m a seasoned killer. But I’m not a coward. War is war, and people die for a great cause. But I’ve never agreed with killing for personal gain. Never was a ruthless bastard. But my father was. The family tradition was the army. We had army in the blood of our men for centuries. A family proud of their warrior sons. So who was I to change fate?” He sighed and tapped his palm against his knee.
“I entered the army, excelled at everything. Made the old man and all the stone statues in the graveyard proud. But I ended up being a spectacular failure.”
He fell silent and I leaned closer. “What happened?”
“I’m not a stone-cold killer. That’s what happened.” He gave me a sad glance then looked away, shame coloring his silver eyes. “I failed to kill the enemy.”
Now that I didn’t expect.
“The enemy of my father. In a battle that had no business being fought. My father had instigated the skirmish, for land of all things. He was my commanding officer, led us into battle. I’d captured the Lord of the region, and instead of relieving him of his head and his spinal column, I let him live.”
I shuddered. “Brutal.”
Drake snorted. “I’ve seen worse.”
I gave him a sober nod. “Better you than me.” He just shook his head. “So your commanding officer ripped you a new one when you took your prisoner in still breathing?”
Drake laughed. “No. He did the spinal column removal. And then he dismissed me from the army.”
“What?”
“Honorable discharge with pay and pension so I shouldn’t complain.”
I was in awe. “They have pension in Gargoyle Land?”
“Shut up, Mel.”
“Sorry.” I smothered a smiled. “Do go on.”
“Dismissal was only the half of it for my father. His disappointment went deeper than I could even have imagined. My inability to murder a POW was more disappointing. He stripped me of my magic.”
“You had magic?” I rolled my eyes.
“I can do more than use my glamor and turn into stone at will.”
“Wow.” I smiled.
“Anyway. Long story short, without magic or a decent job, I was a disgrace to my father. He disowned me. I left.”
“I’m sorry. That sucks.” I wasn’t sure what else to say. I nudged him again. “Look on the bright side. You found us.”
He chuckled. “There is that.”
“So you haven’t been home since?”
“Nope.” He sighed. “But things have changed.”
“What happened?”
“He’s dying. My mom and sister want me to come home.”
Crap.
“So, when do you leave?” I tried to keep the disappointment off my face.
“I’m not. There isn’t any reason to go.”
I sniffed. “Your family needs you.”
“Where were they when I needed them?” His voice was gruff as he turned his head to stare at my face. “They stood by and did nothing. Mother watched as he took my magic. She signed alongside him to disown me.”
“Drake, just because they did nothing doesn’t mean they don’t care about you.”
He shrugged.
“Everyone has reasons for the things they do and the things they don’t do. Your mom is a wife first. Do you know what type of relationship they have? I have no doubt that it’s very patriarchal but is he abusive? Physically, emotionally?” I paused as it struck me what I was trying to say. That Drake’s father could be abusing his mother; not something a kid will easily acknowledge. “There could be dozens of reasons people see, but don’t do. Especially if your father is a strong person. Strong men don’t even need to be tyrann
ical. Even respected men hold power over others.”
Drake nodded, but he still didn’t look at me.
“What I’m trying to say is not everyone is strong, even if they’d like to think they are. It’s too risky. And it’s a damned sight easier to pretend to be strong and powerful when all you are is a follower. Or a manipulator, or a bully. Weak people don’t overthrow dictators. They pretend to be part of the resistance but back away when the fight comes to their doorstep.”
“Or they run away.”
I sighed. “You didn’t run. You made the smart, mature decision. That’s not running away. And besides. What choice did you have?” I stared at him, waiting until he finally did look at me. “Do disowned family members still live at home?”
Drake let out a harsh breath.
“Okay, whatever. That’s the past. Now you have to deal with the issue at hand. He’s on his deathbed. You don’t need to be there for him unless you want to. On the other hand, there are people around him that may need you more than you realize.”
That made him raise his eyebrows and give a slight shake of his head.
“If you recognize this and still make the decision not to go, then that’s fine. But you need to be aware that there is more to this situation than just you and your own feelings.”
Way to tell him to get his head out of his ass when he needs consoling, Mel.
But it seemed to work.
He pushed to his feet and paced a little, his glamor now falling away completely, revealing his dark complexion, black shadows swirling on his skin in dark furrows as if carved into him.
I got to my feet but I remained on the stairs, not wanting to get in his space while he was thinking. I’d done that once before and being turned into stone is not how I’d like to spend my evenings.
Slapping non-existent dust from by ass, I said, “You need to do what’s best for you, Drake. I’m here for you if you need me.”
He sent me a grateful look.
I grinned. “But first, we have a case.”
Drakes eyebrows rose, dark eyes flashing again. I ignored him and headed up the stairs. “There’s a Hunter who needs to be busted out of captivity before the bastards torture her to death.” A glance over my shoulder confirmed his eyes had stopped their dangerous flashing. “Interested?”
