AIR Series Box Set

by Amanda Booloodian

  “We don’t want to rule anyone out yet.” Logan snagged a cookie out of the jar. He didn't eat it, though. He turned it over and over in his hands and stared.

  “Someone in the company could also have reason to get you out of the way, Cassie,” Logan said.

  “Me? Why would anyone want to get rid of me?” I said.

  “Must have something to do with your abilities. Someone has set up a chain of events that could have easily killed you several times,” Logan said.

  “Gran’s the actual psychic,” I said.

  “And now she’s blocked,” Logan said.

  Rider let out a low growl, which I ignored.

  “I've gotten to know Vincent a bit, and I don't think he started it. I think the one that sent him on your trail is the one behind this,” Logan said.

  “He said it was his office. The West Coast branch of the agency,” I said.

  “That's true, but I don't think they pulled your name out of a hat. I think someone would have had to suggest it. Maybe someone in house. Someone who knew you and knew of Margaret's abilities,” Logan said.

  “We go back to who gains from yesterday's events,” Rider said.

  “What could be gained from yesterday?” I asked.

  Logan and Rider both shook their heads.

  “Okay, let's try it this way. Rider, if you set up the events, why would you do it?” I asked.

  Rider looked taken aback by the idea.

  “I'm not saying I think you did it,” I added. “It’s a hypothetical. Role-playing, if you will. What would make you be willing to set up the portals? What could you gain from it?”

  “If we were back in my world, I would say it was a clan strategy. It is not open warfare, but it could be a way to lower another clan's status, having to deal with confusion and possible hostility.” He shrugged. “Will this lower the status of the agency? Having hostiles at your doorsteps?”

  “I guess it could look bad,” I said. “Maybe we need to get more information on the West Coast branch of the company. What about you, Logan?” I asked. “What would you get out of yesterday?”

  “Could be a way to sneak something or someone in or out of this world. So much confusion. I think we should have Hank look into a few things.”

  He grabbed the landline. “Hey, Hank, things calming down a bit?”

  Logan asked Hank if all our boundaries were being watched and then invited Hank over after work to discuss the case.

  Logan signed off and joined Rider at one of the stools at the counter.

  “Hank's double checking everything. He'll keep us up to date. The dust is starting to settle.”

  “Good, I think we should have him do a bit of data diving for us,” I said. Once again, Rider looked confused and I tried to explain how a computer gathers data, and how a person could go in and pull out data.

  “Can we trust Hank?” Rider asked.

  Now I was the one looking stumped. I never thought about if I should or should not trust Hank.

  Logan didn’t meet anyone’s eye. “I think Cassie's the best judge of that.”

  Closing my eyes, I searched through all of my memories of Hank. Once I located all the memories, I poked into the feelings and energy of each memory. Opening my eyes, I blinked a few times. That had taken longer than I thought it would.

  “Hank's safe, I think.” I hated giving absolutes, but from what I knew of Hank, we could trust him. Logan nodded.

  “Can you do that with all the employees?” Rider asked. “It may narrow down the list of who to trust and who not to trust.”

  “I don't really know everyone that well, and there is always some bias. People who don't like me or Logan would probably throw up red flags to me, even if they're good people,” I said.

  Logan nodded. “Best to save your energy. Concentrate on each person as we need them.”

  He was right. The short burst of energy I had needed to contemplate Hank was more than I wanted to use right now. Yesterday's activities had worn me down.

  “Maybe we could track down the creature responsible?” suggested Rider.

  “I'm not sure where we would start,” I said.

  “What about the creature who killed the troll and attacked you. Maybe we could track it down,” Rider suggested.

  “Anything that could throw you against a wall and hold you there by force of will is definitely something to consider. It could have supplied the portals with enough energy to open,” Logan said.

  I nodded glumly. “I copied what it did to me yesterday when we were fighting that vampire, I remembered what it did and I copied it. It didn't last as long, though.”

  Logan nodded. “You copied it during the explosion and you saved lives.”

  “Before I met that thing at the Sanctuary,” I said, “I'm pretty sure I've never done anything like that before.”

  Gran's cat slunk into the room and hissed at me before walking out again. It only deepened my depression.

  “What would we do if we caught the thing that attacked me at the sanctuary?” I asked.

  “Is it different from what attacked you at the tunnel?” Logan asked lightly.

  Rider and I both nodded and I shivered.

  “Definitely,” I said.

  “Well, if we catch it, maybe we could question it. If it opened the portals, it has to have some way to communicate,” Logan said.

  “It can talk,” I said. They both looked at me and I shrugged. “Or at least mimic. Rider yelled my name and it repeated my name before flying off.”

  “You never mentioned that before,” Logan said.

  I shrugged again. “So much happened.”

  “Did you hear it, Rider?” Logan asked. Rider shook his head. “What did it sound like, Cassie?”

  “It was sort of a hissing voice.”

  “You know I wouldn't ask if it weren't important,” Logan said, “but think back, put yourself back there. Tell me everything you can.” I looked at Logan and Rider then glanced around the rest of the room, reassuring myself that we were alone.

  “Keep that cat away from me,” I mumbled. Then I closed my eyes and pulled myself into the past.

  Chapter 25

  Putting myself back to the attack in the Sanctuary was not as easy as pulling up thoughts of Hank. This memory was buried deeply in my mind. Forcing myself to talk as I went through the series of events wasn't painless either.

  Ignoring the attack from Rider, I started with discovering the troll. Planting myself firmly in the past, I relived Rider running off and the feelings of fear when I realized I might be stepping on a dead troll. After that, I moved down the rock wall, escaping the dead body and the smell. The creature bloomed into my mind. This time, I recognized the recklessness of pulling my gun. It was a fleeting thought as I relived the moment. Once I slammed up against the wall, I attempted to step out of myself a bit and watch from the sidelines as the events played out. Being scared and weak was never something I liked to discuss, yet, here I was poring over every detail. It didn't work. Even though I couldn’t see it, my own Path sucked me back in. I relived the fear while doling out details.

  There were things I noticed which had been lost on me before. The vague shape of the creature started coming forward. The voice was a high-pitched hissing. The wall of air holding me up dissipated, but it did so because the thing took flight. I finished relaying the information with Rider showing up. When I opened my eyes, I realized I had been crying.

  Rolling my eyes, I excused myself to the bathroom, cleaned off my face, and got myself under control. Exhaustion rolled in, despite all the coffee.

  When I came back out the guys were discussing the details. Feeling no need to rush back into it, I called Gran to check on her. She was finished at the mall. She and Dee Dee had retreated to the ceramic shop. Gran was painting a new ceramic mug for Halloween. We chatted long enough for me to remember the world outside of work existed. When I hung up, I joined Logan and Rider. They were bent over my laptop.

  I looked ov
er Logan's shoulder and checked out the screen. “That looks like a pterodactyl,” I commented. “How did dinosaurs come up?”

  “Not a pterodactyl, it's a sordis,” Logan commented.

  “Okay, I give, what's a sordis?” I said, returning to my chair.

  “The sordis on the Internet is a dinosaur, but in Latin it means filth or scum. It's a word that comes from folklore and it referenced evil spirits. The dinosaur sordis is fairly small, but take a look, Cassie. Look at the wings, the body, and the tail. This ancient bird was reminiscent of the 'evil spirit' in an area of West Virginia over one hundred years ago. I've never seen one before, but I think what attacked you might look like a big one of these.”

  Raising one eyebrow at Logan, I looked over the small picture. A bone was on the ridge of the wing that went half way down. The wings were almost bat like, but looked furry. They were connected all the way down the length of the ancient bird, not just at joints at the top or on its back. I imagined those wings opening and closing. A chill shot through me. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath finding my center. Once I found it, I opened my eyes and handed the computer back to Logan.

  “There are similarities,” I admitted. “Do you think we should look it up through the company's archives?”

  Logan shook his head. “I don't want to leave any tracks. I think we should ask Hank to take a look.” We both glanced at the clock. “He should be over in about an hour. He's taking a long break with us, and then heading back into the office.”

  “He'll probably need to eat something,” I commented, getting to my feet.

  Hank had never been to my house before, so I put out the best welcome spread I could on short notice. I made some lemonade, some sweet tea, and coffee. I put out a tray of cookies.

  Logan changed out the water in my flower arrangements. Rider looked a little glum at the flowers, so I got him busy wiping down the table and counters.

  “Houses are not this clean where I am from. Not that this is a bad thing,” he said hurriedly. “I've never seen anyone do it as much as you and Margaret. Cooking too, for that matter.”

  Logan burst out laughing. “You should have been warned, Rider. Cassie's Gran is a Southern Belle. Their houses are clean, their kids are well-mannered, and there is always something fresh to eat and drink for company.”

  “Southern Belle.” Rider rolled the words over. “Are you a Southern Belle, Cassie?”

  Logan laughed even harder. I crossed my arms and leaned against the counter waiting for his laughter to die down. Once he caught his breath, he answered Rider's question.

  “Cassie was born in Missouri. She's not from the South, but she picked up some habits from her Gran and from her mother, I'm sure.”

  Logan had never met my mother. If he had, he’d know I learned very little from my mother.

  “I've seen plenty of Southern Belle's in the movies, but none compare to Margaret,” Logan said. “Not only is the house clean and ready for guests, but she's ready to kick butt and take names if it comes down to it. And she'll make you thank her for it too.”

  I couldn't help laughing.

  The doorbell rang and I wiped my hands dry and went to answer. Once Hank settled at the table with a meal and coffee, Logan started easing him into our plan.

  “We need some information tracked down,” Logan said. “Someone went to trouble to make sure that Cassie here was attacked.”

  “We've looked into that. New protocols are in place to keep something like that from happening again,” Hank said.

  “That's great,” I said, “but someone had to put things in motion.”

  Hank shook his head. “I’ve already dug in that hole.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “I checked the message that sent Vincent out here. Checked the whole trail. It led to a dead end.”

  “A dead end?” I asked.

  “I tried everything I could think of. I traced the message back and found nothing, and then I dug into our own systems, thinking I could find a trace,” Hank said.

  Logan clapped Hank on the back looking grateful. “You already did all that?”

  Hank’s downturned face turned into a grin. “Ages ago, my friend. I wish there was something else I could do to help.”

  “There’s something else,” Logan said. He filled Hank in on the sordis and our thoughts behind the issue.

  “Do you think the kidnapping of the Lost is related to Cassie being on the hit list?” Hank asked.

  “Well,” Logan said with his twang, “it’s a hell of a coincidence if it’s not connected. Besides, Cassie has the best chance of connecting point A to point C with a weak trail.”

  “Good point,” Hank said.

  “We gotta make sure that our horses are reined in,” Logan said. “Someone in the office isn’t on the up and up.”

  “Maybe if we can find a motive, we could narrow down our search?” I suggested.

  “What motive would anyone have for kidnapping innocents?” Rider asked.

  “There could also be a power play somewhere along the way,” Logan said.

  “Kyrian was talking about someone retiring,” I said.

  Everyone seemed to mull that over.

  “They’re selling them.” The thought left a bad taste in my mouth as I spoke the words. “This could boil down to money.”

  Logan looked disgusted.

  “Both possibilities, and that could help me narrow down my search,” Hank said. “I’ll start pulling information. I’ll start with the sordis. If we have a demon running around, we need to bag it fast.”

  ***

  Logan’s call came early the next morning.

  “Did Hank find something already?” I asked, fumbling with the cell phone.

  “We found them,” Logan said.

  My mind spun trying to catch up with Logan's words. “We found them?” Then realization struck. “All of them? The Lost are found?”

  “Don't know if it's all of them, but gear up, we're about to find out.”

  We had our location at last. I threw on my gear and met Logan outside. We armed ourselves and met up with other teams. Rider joined Hank at the office. Everyone was under Logan's instruction as lead in the case.

  “I haven’t been here in years. It's still such a small town,” I said, looking at the map of Eugene on the computer.

  “We're putting our finger down on the whole town,” Logan said. “There are three roads in and out, so we're blocking all three. Even if they weren't involved, they may have seen something. The heat signature though, it’s there.”

  We set up a roadblock and pulled out maps at the entrance to town. Others drove through to block any other traffic that might try to enter or leave. Logan handed out directions over the earpieces and ticked off areas on the map. When he was done setting things up, I noticed something missing.

  “We should check out the cave,” I suggested.

  Logan was visibly tense. “What cave?”

  “It's on the property that backs up to the house.” Into the earpiece I added, “Hank, do our warrants cover the cave?”

  “There is no cave on the map,” Hank said through the coms.

  “It's huge. How can there be no cave on the map?” I asked.

  “Where is it located?” Hank asked.

  “It's on private property behind the house,” I said.

  “All that land belongs to one person. It's covered in the warrants. We'll try to get more images of that area,” Hank said.

  Each team got into place. Once the roads were blocked, we went in. Logan and I were on the front door of the house with the heat signatures. Another team was at the back. I tensed as the door battered open and Logan announced our entry. My heart beat loudly in my chest as I went in to the room to the right and Logan went left. The stench of rotted food churned my stomach.

  “I’ve got Lost, but no perps,” Logan said through the coms.

  The urge to drop my position and check on the Lost was strong, but I kept
moving. My hand gripped the rifle so hard I could feel each groove in the grip. Trash littered the living room. I announced “clear,” loudly. Others echoed the same in other parts of the house. I found the next room already covered, so I circled round to my partner.

  “Get the doc in here,” Logan said through the coms. “I want two teams going door to door. We need to know everyone that’s come and gone from this town.”

  With my gun still in hand, I entered the room. The smell of waste overwhelmed my senses.

  “Oh, hell.” Logan's voice was barely audible. He had his gun away and he was looking around the room.

  Lost were stuck in cages that had been stacked haphazardly on top of each other. I walked to the center of the room and stopped. Tears began to flow down my face, but I didn't care.

  Logan started going cage by cage, starting with the ones by the door. “You're safe now. We're bringing in help.” There was a desperate edge to his voice.

  Doctor Yelton came in and started to take a quick assessment of the situation.

  I wanted to rip open every cage and let each Lost run away. Most of them couldn't run. Faeries were slumped against the bottom of their cages, wings unmoving. Gnomes were usually a blurry streak. Here they lay listless in corners.

  “Start opening cages,” Logan said.

  Numbly, I walked over to a cage. “You're safe. Wait here for the doctor.” My voice trembled and threatened to break. “We're going to get you home.”

  Desperately, I tried to push the scene into the dark recesses of my brain. Force it down so I could focus on my job. It wasn't working.

  I opened two more cages before my eyes narrowed in on a horrifying sight. I walked slowly to a cage in the corner. Its occupant wasn't moving. The closer I got, the more the stench of decay gripped the air. I turned away from the cage. We were too late. Numbness filled me like white noise. The lights were too bright, the noises too loud.

  I turned my back and went to another cage. “You're safe now.” It took me some time to get the words out. The doctor had already sent several Lost out the door with agents. Transporting everyone back to the Farm had already started.