Shadow Fall

by Glass, Seressia

  Khefar looked stunned. “Are you serious?”

  “A statue is the problem?” Sanchez asked, dubious.

  “Ammit is more than a statue,” Khefar explained. “She is the Devourer of Souls, a demoness who prevents people from crossing into the afterlife by eating them.”

  “And the electronic ‘edutainment’ representation of her at the museum seems to be doing Ammit’s job. We have to find Hammond and discover what the hell’s going on,” Kira told them. “I mean, think about it: someone or something is using the Book of the Dead exhibit, or more specifically, the Weighing of the Heart interactive ritual, to actually steal souls.”

  “Not Ammit.” Khefar made the sign of the evil eye. “All of the victims are comatose. The Devourer consumes souls. And the divine rules are that she has to be given the souls, fed them by Anubis. She doesn’t have the ability to take them herself.”

  “That we know of,” Kira said, pushing her braids back over her shoulder. “What do we really know about Ammit, except that she’s a demoness from the left hand of Shadow?”

  “That’s enough for me, but this isn’t how she works,” Khefar said. “So I guess we’re looking for something or someone masquerading as Ammit and using the exhibit to harvest souls for some unknown purpose. Do you know any hybrids who specialize in soul stealing?”

  “Every culture has some sort of story about soul stealers,” Kira replied. “Like the old belief that allowing yourself to be photographed meant your soul was stolen. Seeing one’s reflection captured the soul. The Qing dynasty of China believed a person’s soul resided in their hair; soul stealers were those who went around cutting off queues—the long, braided ponytails the men wore.”

  “Wait, wait.” Sanchez held up a hand. “You said souls, plural.”

  Kira nodded. “Wynne isn’t the only victim.”

  The news was literally a bombshell. Zoo groaned, covering his face with his hands. The agents looked ready to swing into action. Sanchez looked poleaxed.

  “I think you’ll find other patients in this wing and in hospitals elsewhere went through that exhibit,” Kira added, “all brought in comatose like Wynne was.”

  “The exhibit’s been open for a week,” Sanchez said. “Hundreds of people have gone through since it opened. How can you be sure the exhibit is responsible?”

  “There have been hybrid victims too,” Kira answered. “I have a list of names. We can have sweepers cross-check their activities see if any of them visited the Journey Through the Underworld exhibit. Counting up the victims, there seems to have been two a day—one, human, and one hybrid.”

  “Before I shut down the exhibit and cost the city an assload of money,” Sanchez said, “we need to be sure. After all, we have a were-hyena still inexplicably in a coma.”

  Kira ground her teeth. “There’s a possibility I might have held on too long to Roshonda to keep her down, but I can promise you I don’t know any of the people in this wing. I didn’t hurt these people or Wynne.”

  “I believe you,” Sanchez said.

  Kira’s mouth dropped open. “Seriously?”

  “Yes.” Sanchez nodded. “I may have my doubts about your methods or your willingness to follow orders, but even I don’t believe you would harm your closest friend.”

  The unexpected support caused Kira’s throat to tighten. “Thank you.” Sanchez believed her innocent, but Zoo didn’t. Proof positive that her world had turned completely upside down.

  “So I suppose you’re going to suggest that I bring in Hammond, the organizer?” Sanchez asked. “I need a good reason.”

  “I’ve got one,” Kira answered. “Wynne met with him, before she went into the tomb reproduction.”

  “How did she know who he was?”

  “She saw a picture of him on my phone,” Khefar said. “Pictures from the gala.”

  “Hammond gave Wynne a citrine scarab and told her to drop it on the scale. The scale swung out of balance and the Ammit statue moved forward to gobble the stone.” Kira shivered at the thought of the Devourer being alive, of having to face down the demoness to get her friend’s life back. “Hammond is the last person Wynne had any significant interaction with. That’s the only suspicious activity I saw when I replayed her day.”

  Sanchez considered the information. “I thought Hammond was human.”

  “So did I, but the other night was the first time I’d been around him for more than a few minutes. And in a crowd like that I shield pretty tightly. He could have willingly agreed to become an Avatar for a Fallen, or agreed to become a Shadow Adept, and gained magical power in exchange for providing souls to someone. It’s even possible that the agreement happened after he came to Atlanta. Either way, it doesn’t mean he’s blameless. If he’s not behind it, he damn well knows who is.”

  The section chief pressed her earpiece. “I need an immediate first-class retrieval on one Bruce Hammond, organizer of the Journey Through the Underworld exhibit at the Georgia World Congress Center. He’s probably at the hotel closest to the exhibit hall, in the best suite. Keep it clean and quiet, and let me know as soon as you have him in custody.”

  She disconnected, looked at Kira. “We need to head back to the office. If Hammond warrants first-class retrieval, we’ll have to make use of the underground interrogation facility. I’m assuming you want to be present for the interrogation?”

  “You bet your ass I do.”

  Sanchez pursed her lips in disapproval, but Kira didn’t care. “If he’s unwilling to talk, you’ll need me there.”

  Sanchez nodded briefly. “I know you feel some distress at your friend’s condition and I know you want to act quickly to find those responsible. But if you’re right—”

  “I am right.”

  “—if you’re right, we potentially have hundreds more victims waiting to be claimed. At the very least, their consciousnesses could be held hostage. We need to find out what Hammond knows, without alerting anyone that we’re on the trail. We go by the book on this one. Understood?”

  Kira bit the inside of her cheek. Her muscles ached with the need for some ass-kicking action. “Understood.”

  “Marlowe, you’ll stay here. Send word when there’s any change.”

  “But—”

  “Understood?”

  Zoo snapped to. “Yes, ma’am. Understood, ma’am.”

  Sanchez gave them all a smile. “See how easy that is, Solomon?”

  Kira gave the section chief a mock salute. “Yes, ma’am. Understood, ma’am.”

  With a final disapproving look, Sanchez and the two agents made their way to the exit, leaving Kira, Khefar, and Zoo standing in the hallway. Kira glanced at Zoo. “Has there been any change in Wynne’s condition?”

  “No.” The male witch blew out a breath. “Kira?”

  She turned to face him, taking care to keep her expression and posture neutral. “Yes?”

  Zoo grew uncomfortable. “I wanted to let you know that I—I didn’t tell Sanchez about … well, you know.”

  “About what?” Khefar demanded. “Your unfounded accusations?”

  The witch flushed. “Are they unfounded? Ask yourself honestly, and I think you’ll understand why I thought the way I did.”

  “I have asked myself, and I have yet to understand how someone could think so ill of someone they claim as a friend,” Khefar said, his words like acid. “It is a shame that the value of friendship is meaningless in this day and age.”

  “Zoo, I think you need to get back to Wynne,” Kira cut in, amazed at how calm she sounded. “And we’re going to head to Gilead.”

  “Wait. What did you see?”

  “You already know what I saw,” she told him. “Hammond gave the stone to Wynne.”

  “But that’s not all that you saw, is it?” Zoo asked. “Then, tell me what else came through.”

  Kira looked at Zoo for a long moment. She hoped to see something on his face that would erase the last hour and take them back to a place where they weren’t at odds
with each other. Nothing presented itself.

  “Your wife is worried about you,” she finally said. “Wynne wanted to talk to me about your faith and mine, to gain a better understanding of what we believe and how it affects us. So if you want to blame me for what happened to Wynne, go ahead. I told her about my experience with Ma’at, and that’s why she went down to the exhibit. But know this: you may think that I’ve changed and become more dangerous, but your wife thinks you have too. I suggest you take some time off and talk with her when she wakes up.”

  Zoo started to say something, probably an attempt to deny her words. Instead, she let him read her face—allowed all of the anger, hurt, and resentment to rise to the surface, unfettered. Zoo’s eyes widened, and he took a step back, dropping his gaze.

  Serves you right, Kira thought to herself, biting her lip to keep further words from erupting. It would be easy, all too easy, to hurt Zoo as he’d hurt her. Only the thought of Wynne’s worried face and the need to find her attacker kept Kira from doing so.

  “Let’s go,” she finally said to Khefar, turning her back on the witch.

  They left the stroke center, heading for the main entrance. “A warrior never gives his enemy ammunition.”

  “So says the guy who blew his top twice in one night.” Kira snorted. “Besides, I don’t really consider Sanchez my enemy. Or Zoo, for that matter.”

  “Yeah.” Khefar’s turn to snort. “With friends like that, who needs enemies?”

  True enough. “Thanks, by the way,” she said off-handedly, though she certainly didn’t feel casual about it. “For defending me back there, I mean.”

  “I did what was right,” Khefar told her, the danger back in his voice. “And what was right was also the truth.”

  “Yeah.” She suppressed a twinge of guilt. Khefar’s steadfast faith in her was reassuring even as she wondered if it was misplaced.

  Her shoulders slumped. “Looks like I’m going to have to be careful around them, if I ever get the chance to be around them again. Zoo’s Gilead now, for better or worse. I mean, I figured that something like this was bound to happen. Didn’t think it would happen so soon, though.”

  “What are you going to do about it?” he asked as they pushed out into the chill night.

  “Save Wynne’s life, and everyone else’s,” she answered. “After that, I don’t know. See if Zoo will accept a transfer enabling them to become field agents reporting up the chain to Sanchez.”

  “What if Wynne doesn’t want to do that? There’s no way she can blame you for this!”

  “She won’t, but it doesn’t matter. Knowing how Zoo feels, there’s no way I can trust him to have my back now.”

  “You sure you want to throw that friendship away?”

  She stopped in her tracks. “You were ready to bash Zoo’s head in, and now you want to defend him?”

  “I still want to bash his head in,” Khefar said easily. “If only because it may knock some sense into him. I want you to be sure of your decision. It’s a bridge-burning moment.”

  She tilted her face skyward, allowing the cool winter night to seep into her. “I was sure before Cairo. I tried to push them away then. They went to Gilead and joined up. It was their idea to be my backup on the mission to return the Vessel of Nun,” she said, scanning the sidewalk. “I shouldn’t have brought them into my world to start with. But Zoo knew about Light and Shadow, since he worships an incarnation of the Great Lady, and Wynne … was Wynne.”

  Kira sighed. Wynne had seemed like someone she could trust with her life. But she wasn’t sure why. Then again, when she’d first met her, Kira hadn’t valued her own life all that highly. Life was lonely and risky. Wynne and Zoo somehow made it less so.

  “After I first met them,” she continued, “I had them tagged after the scrying mirror incident so that Gilead would keep an eye on them in case they were trafficking in magically enhanced artifacts instead of just accidentally receiving one.”

  “You reported them to Gilead?” Khefar asked, surprise ringing in his voice. “Did they know?”

  “I never told them,” she admitted. “I kept seeing them around Little Five Points after I cleansed the mirror. I could have had one of Gilead’s psychics put a mental block on them, but I really don’t like to do that unless it’s absolutely necessary. Besides, they’ve done a good job of keeping Zoo’s bloodline from being public knowledge. I figured they could keep my secret too. The Shadowchaser secret anyway.”

  “What do you mean, Zoo’s bloodline?”

  “Zoo’s a natural-born witch,” Kira explained as they headed for the parking deck. “He’s got hybrid blood from his Romanian ancestry. He does Wiccan charms and spells as a cover for the fact that he really can do magic. With them keeping that kind of secret even from the U.S. military, I figured they’d have no problem keeping my secrets. Anyway, they’re Gilead agents now, and cozy with Sanchez. Reason enough for some distance, especially considering my parentage.”

  She pulled her coat tighter about herself. “I need to get my energy back. Tell me we still have some protein bars in the car.”

  “We do, and bottles of water. But there’s an all-night burger place next to the parking deck. Would you rather go there?”

  “No.” She shuddered. “I don’t know if I have enough reserves right now to blast my food clean and keep my shielding in place. This time of night, I don’t know who or what will be in there.”

  He studied her. “Maybe we should swing back by the house, let you regroup.”

  She shook her head. “There’s no time. Besides, Shadowchasers train for this. When the Chase is on, there’s no stopping. I’ll be fine with the bars and some water. I don’t want to give Hammond any more time than we already have.”

  At the car, she quickly downed a couple of bars and a liter of water kept cool by the early morning temperature. “You know … we’re not all that far from the Congress Center.”

  Khefar studied her. “You want to go after Hammond yourself.”

  “Damn right I do. He deliberately gave Wynne that heart scarab. He knew what he was doing. He called me out. The least I can do is answer.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  His hesitation surprised her. “Why the hell not?”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, we’re down a demigod, a witch, and a firearms expert. You’re fatigued. The odds aren’t in our favor.”

  “When have they ever been?” Khefar was right. Dammit. Hammond had a time advantage over them. He’d set things in motion on his own timetable from the moment he gave the scarab to Wynne.

  “Let’s head over to Gilead,” Khefar suggested, adjusting the car’s thermostat to a warmer temperature.

  “Why?” Kira demanded, irritated. “So I can sit around with my thumb up my butt, waiting on the retrieval team to bring in my target?”

  She crumpled the empty water bottle in her fist. “That supercilious son of a bitch! I completely bought that overeager, bumbling, barely-this-side-of-competent act!”

  Khefar’s lips quirked as he started the car. “Tell me how you really feel.”

  “I’m angry. I’m angry because I’m supposed to be better than this. I’m supposed to know if something supernatural’s going on in my town.”

  “You can’t know everything,” Khefar pointed out. “Even Gilead’s sweepers didn’t pick up on this.”

  His mild tone did nothing to soothe her anger. “I should have known about this,” she argued. “Putting this exhibit together took months—on and off—of careful planning, paperwork, insurance, gathering permits, crating, transporting, and uncrating. I had to inspect each artifact brought in, making sure none of them had any nasty metaphysical surprises. I did everything I knew to do to make sure that the artifacts were safe for the public.”

  She turned to him. “I worked with Hammond quite a bit over the last couple of months. Granted, none of it was in person until we started the installation and even then our encounters were brief. In ret
rospect, that may have been intentional on his part. Still, I should have realized something. I’ve let these friggin’ distractions get to me.”

  “You have to admit, as far as distractions go, yours have been pretty huge.”

  “You think? I’m ready for them to be over and done with so I can go back to doing my job.” She tapped her bottom lip. “I do have to wonder, though, what’s going on. Neither Ma’at nor Isis gave us any indication that this soul-snatching thing was happening.”

  “Careful,” Khefar warned. “I strongly believe that our patronesses trust in our ability to figure things out for ourselves. Besides, if this comes from the mind of the Lord of the Desert, Isis would have good reason to steer clear.”

  “Or work harder against him.” Kira wouldn’t admit it, not even to Khefar, but the silence from Ma’at worried her. No, she didn’t need hand-holding, but wasn’t it natural to want reassurance from above? “Balm’s still silent, and I get visited by the Ladies of Shadow and Between like it’s Christmas Eve and I’ve been a stingy bastard. Something’s up.”

  “Something like what?”

  “Think about it. Nansee decides to go visit his wife, something you say he hasn’t done in a couple of decades. Balm has that chest delivered, then goes all incommunicado on me. And neither Isis nor Ma’at warned us about this exhibit stealing souls. Why didn’t we get a heads-up? Why are they not giving us any guidance—especially since we had help up to our ears with the Vessel of Nun?” Kira shook her head. “Something reeks, and I don’t like it.”

  “We’ve been on our own before.” Khefar exited the parking deck, made his way over to Peachtree Street, and then headed north for Midtown. “Maybe this means that we’re supposed to figure this out on our own.”

  Kira remained silent. Now would be the perfect time to tell Khefar about being driven toward a choice by the Ladies of Light and Shadow, about having her Shadowling sire’s Shadowblade in her spare sheath. She had no idea why she’d impulsively strapped the blade on, especially given her initial revulsion to it. Khefar would argue against her carrying it. Then again, he would argue against her confronting Hammond, and she really wanted to confront Hammond.