by Ken Lange
I weakly lift my hand to flip him off before dropping it onto my stomach—and the other LP-12.
He snorts. “The mighty Viktor Warden, reduced to a child’s insult.”
Wrapping my hand around the grip, I smile. “Give me a second. I can do better.”
Making a show of yawning, he closes his eyes for a fraction of a second. I pull the weapon and fire. It’s a terrible shot as it goes clean through his right arm, removing it at the elbow. Before I can correct my aim, Ethan kicks me hard in the ribs, turns, and runs into a tear similar to the one the Baron used. I pull the trigger again, but the shot goes wide, missing him entirely. He’s gone with a pop as it closes behind him.
Even if it’d stayed open, I’m in no condition to follow him. But he’s going to be feeling the aftereffects of losing an arm…and hopefully some radiation poisoning. Who knows? This might be enough to kill the asshole.
Right now, I’ve got other problems, such as the half dozen wraiths heading my way. I get to my feet and send four more rounds in their direction before holstering the weapon and wrapping flames around my shields. The strain on my system is instantaneous. Stepping forward, I shove my hands into their chests and rummage around a bit. A half second later, they’re no more. I scan the floor beneath me. The wraiths that were there are gone.
Allowing my shields to return to normal, I pick up the other LP-12 and stumble over to the throne to check on Robert, who’s very dead. In several pieces, in fact. Someone removed his head, legs, and arms from his torso, which they gutted. Guess they wanted to make sure he wasn’t going to get back up.
I have to admit, that’s one hell of a way to do it.
Exhaustion kicks in, and I fall to my knees. There are probably a few dozen sirens out front and I’m sure the NOPD will be here shortly. I’m too tired to text or call anyone. Instead, I message Mir, who acknowledges me before vanishing to contact the necessary individuals to smooth things out.
Panting, I lie on the floor, spread my arms out, and wait.
Chapter 28
It’s been several minutes since the screeching of tires and sirens stopped, but no one’s been up here yet. This would be an excellent time for me to get the hell out of Dodge. The only problem is, I haven’t got a clue how far I’d be able to go on foot. There’s no way I can make it back to the car. My breathing, while better, isn’t good and I’m still coughing up blood.
The moment they find Robert in pieces—never mind the extra arm—they’re going to want to shoot me, and I’m not sure my shields are up to that. Okay, I know they’re not. So, it’s in my best interests to stay right where I am. They’ll cart me in, give me a few hours to heal, and at some point, Mir will tell the others where I am. That’s a good solid plan and one that doesn’t include me moving a lot, which is, in my opinion, the best part.
A single set of hurried footsteps rushes across the rubble. I’m too tired to open my eyes to see who it is. They come to a stop, make some more noise then someone lifts my head.
It takes me a second, but I’m able to focus only to find Rigg’s ugly mug next to my own.
Relief sweeps across his face. “Great, you’re alive.” He glances over his shoulder. “You able to move?”
When I cough, it’s wet and thick, but nothing makes it into my throat this time. “I’d rather not.” Lifting my arms, I say, “Feel free to cuff me and carry me out.”
He glances around nervously as he lowers his voice. “This is serious. Can you fucking move or not? You look like shit, but you’ve walked away from worse.”
There’s an urgency and fear in his tone I’ve never heard before. “I guess…I don’t know? Why aren’t you arresting me?”
Shaking his head, he points at the nearby hole. “No time to explain. Can you get out of here or not? If so, go that way.”
When I cough this time, blood fills my mouth. Spitting it out, I frown. “There’s no way I can make it back to my car. Even if I did, I’m in no condition to drive.”
Riggs sighs. “All right, can you make it to the cathedral?”
I push myself up into a sitting position. “Maybe…what’s going on?”
He glances back at the hole in the wall. “If they find you here, they’re going to cart you off somewhere outside the city. If they have their way, you’ll never see daylight again. While I hate your guts on principle, I didn’t sign up to off folks when I joined the force.” There are voices coming up the steps. “We’re out of time. Whatever you decide right now could mean living to see tomorrow or not.”
I blow out a long breath. “Okay, I’ll see you shortly and you can explain just what in the fuck is going on.”
He snorts. “Fine, just go.”
I hobble over to the hole and lower myself in as he walks back to the entrance. My strength gives out and I fall to the floor below with a dull thud. It takes a lot, but I manage not to complain. Out loud. I get to my feet slowly as the camouflage feature engages and inch up to the open door on the first floor. There I wait for the gaggle of cops to pass before stepping out.
At the bottom of the stairs, two cops are questioning witnesses.
Giving them plenty of space, I round the corner on my way back to St. Peter. It’s a little over two blocks away, but it might as well be miles at the rate I’m moving. But ten minutes later, I make it to the far side of the church facing the street and find a nice little cubby next to a garbage can to crawl into while I wait.
A part of me wants to let the Ulfr Hunn bring me in, but they’re not going to be able to tell me what has Riggs so spooked. I think it’s best to let this play out. If he’s lying to me, I’ve taken the liberty of reloading both LP-12s. If they’ll take the arm off a loa hybrid, you have to wonder what they’ll do to a human.
Hopefully, it’s a needless precaution, but honestly, his sudden willingness to help me is uncomfortable. We’ve had a solid relationship over the years of him hating my guts and me laughing in his face. The whole saving-me-from-Hotard thing and now this is…well, frankly, unsettling.
It’s another twenty minutes before I spot his cruiser creeping down the street. Guess it’s time to find out what this is all about. While the Idunn have staunched the bleeding, emptied my lungs, and generally patched me up on the outside, it’s all cosmetic. Okay, not drowning on my fluids is pretty nice, but you get what I mean. Everything still hurts but at least my wounds won’t open up if I fall down. Throwing myself out of a moving vehicle might test that theory, but I hope it doesn’t come to that.
Coming to a stop, he motions me over. “Get in and keep your head down. I’m supposed to be looking for you.”
I practically crawl into the front floorboard. Once I’m uncomfortably situated, I ask, “Okay, time to talk, man. What’s going on?”
His head swivels from side to side as he slowly makes his way forward. “Honestly, I’m not one hundred percent sure. All I know is two months ago I got a call from Captain Hotard asking me if I want to join a new unit.”
I shift around, trying to make myself more comfortable. It doesn’t work. “That’s this Special Crimes division, right?”
He nods. “Yeah. They’re designed to deal with—” Gesturing at me, he says, “People who aren’t what you’d call normal.”
“Isn’t that the UCD’s purview?”
He grimaces. “Again, yes. But here’s the thing. A lot of us think the UCD lets too many of you slide on things they shouldn’t.” His cheeks darken. “A lot of people die around you, and now with this new guy in town, bodies are dropping everywhere.”
I furrow my brow. “New guy?”
He shrugs. “Gavin something or other.”
Slumping back into the floorboards, I sigh. “Gavin Randall. He’s the Vigiles for the Archive. And the reason so many bodies are getting dropped is because people are trying to kill us on a fairly regular basis this year. I don’t know if they’re getting some sort of discount for multiple attacks in a twelve-month period or what, but some very freaky people have been comin
g out of the woodwork.”
His tone has an edge to it. “There’s always an excuse, but if people really tried to kill you as often as you claim, you guys wouldn’t be walking away from it without a scratch.”
I wave a hand at myself. “You saw that I was cut all to hell earlier and now, not so much.”
He frowns. “How does that work, anyway?”
That’s actually a good question. “For me or the others?”
He rolls his eyes. “For you.”
I shrug. “Billions of tiny organic nanites put me back together every time I do something stupid like face a few dozen wraiths, their master, and other things I shouldn’t.”
He brakes hard. “I’m being serious.”
“Me too.”
Easing his foot back onto the accelerator, he shakes his head. “I honestly can’t tell if you’re fucking with me or not. But that’s off topic anyway. As for Hotard and Special Crimes, they promised they’d let me bring you in.”
I hang my head. “That’s how they recruited you?”
He nods. “Yeah. They’ve been tailing you and anytime there’s a possibility of trouble, they call me. I’m supposed to sit on you until you’re cuffed then call Hotard, who wants to question you. But as you saw the other night, that’s not exactly what he had in mind. I want you in jail, not assassinated.”
I move my legs to keep them from falling asleep. “But Hotard isn’t with the NOPD anymore.”
He shifts in his seat. “Not officially, but he’s working for whoever’s bankrolling Special Crimes. Which means he has a lot of clout.”
Well, that explains a lot. “Okay…so the fact that you don’t want me dead is the only reason you’re helping me?”
He wobbles his hand back and forth. “More or less. As I say, I didn’t join the force to break the law. This is a calling for me…I’m not sure someone like you could even understand that. But it’s the best explanation I can give you.” His phone rings. “Quiet.”
Answering the mobile, he says, “Hello? No, I haven’t spotted him yet… What? No, I don’t want to do that… Fine, I’ll go, but they’re not going to let me see the man… We don’t have a warrant, that’s why. His lawyer will stonewall me for as long as it takes… Okay, yeah, I’m going.”
He hangs up and tosses the phone into the console. “We’re going to your office. Is there any way you can get out of my vehicle without being seen?”
“Yep.”
Shaking his head, he sighs. “Look, you should know that Special Crimes is going to take you and this Gavin guy at the first opportunity they get. Before you ask, I haven’t a clue where or what they have planned for you, other than it’s not good. I won’t be able to protect you forever, but when you go down, it’ll be by the book. After which, you’ll get a trial. I can’t promise it’ll be fair as it’s out of my hands at that point. But I’ll be able to live with myself.”
A few minutes later, he pulls up a half block from the office. “This is where you get out.” He points at the entrance. “I’m going to go in there and act an absolute fool. If there’s anything you can do to make things easier on me, I’d appreciate it.”
I thumb over at the door. “Do me a favor and get the door for me…and don’t scream.”
Activating the camouflage feature, I vanish from sight.
He blinks. “What—” Riggs stares at the floorboard for several seconds. “Warden?”
“Yeah?”
“What the actual fuck?” He squeezes his eyes closed and shakes his head. “You know what? Never mind.”
He throws the car in park and walks around to the other side to open the door. There he pauses for several seconds, allowing me to get out, before reaching into the glove compartment to pull out a body camera.
When I speak, he jumps. “Give me two minutes before you go in and I’ll see what I can do. But this is going to have to look good to be believable. So, don’t freak out if you’re there a few before I intervene.”
He clips the camera in place. “All right.”
Riggs walks back around, gets into the car, and pulls off. I take off at a sprint—okay, it’s more like a steady jog—and I’m around the back of the building and slipping in through the back door before he enters the building. In the nearest bathroom, I peel off the wrecked body armor and shirt. It takes a good five minutes of scrubbing before I’m anywhere close to clean. Thank god the shirt’s black because it’s covered in blood, but I’m able to get most of the dust out of it.
When I step into the lobby, Riggs is going full force, leaning over the counter, yelling in Justine’s face. “Where’s Viktor?”
She responds but she’s speaking so low I can’t make out what she’s saying.
He slams his fist against the marble. “I don’t give a shit about formalities. Either you produce the man right now or I’m going to have my people secure a search warrant for the building.”
I clear my throat. “That won’t be necessary.”
He sneers. “Where have you been?”
I wave a hand at myself. “It’s time for our cyclical audit and I’ve been crawling through storage bins all morning. If you’d like, I can call Rick Craven out here to verify that.”
He rolls his eyes. “I’m sure he’d say anything you asked him to.” Pivoting on the spot, he says, “I don’t have time for this shit. If I find out you’re lying to me, you better believe I’ll be back with a warrant for your arrest.”
I give him a dismissive wave. “Whatever. Now if you don’t mind, I’ve got shit to do.” Pointing at the door, I say, “You should go before I call Henry and file harassment charges.”
Riggs pulls his phone out of his pocket. “Whatever, man.” He taps in a number on his way to the door. “He says he’s been here all day. What do you want me to do?” He shoves the door open and walks out to his cruiser.
Riggs isn’t gone for ten seconds before Justine is across the lobby. She eyes me up and down and frowns. “What in the name of god happened to you? And what’s this bullshit about a audit?” She pauses, leans over, and puts her fingers through the side of my shirt. “What the hell?”
One of the things I love most about her is how observant she is. Of course, that’s biting me in the ass right now. “I went ten rounds with Ethan and a bunch of his goons.”
She puts her hand on her hip. “Seriously? And you didn’t call for backup?”
I sigh. “Didn’t really have the opportunity. By the time I figured out what I was into, they were all around me. From there, things sort of went south.” Thumbing over my shoulder, I say, “That’s how Riggs got involved. During the altercation, we sort of wrecked Jax Brewery.”
Her jaw tightens. “What? Wait…how’s Riggs involved if he’s here?”
I sigh. “It’s a long story. The short version is he just saved my ass.”
Justine blinks. “I’m so confused right now. How is him showing up here and ranting like a lunatic saving your ass?”
My breath hitches as a sharp pain shoots through my ribs. “Mind if we talk about this in the infirmary? I’m not exactly feeling my best right now.”
Her anger vanishes. “You’re actually volunteering to go to the infirmary?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
Her voice trembles. “Are you okay? How bad are you hurt?”
I wrap my arm around her waist and give her a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be fine. Figured the doctors could give me a once-over while I check on Kira.”
She gives me a nervous smile. “You’re okay though, right?”
I nod. “Yeah, in a few hours I’ll be tip top.”
She waves for me to follow. “Come on, I’ll help while you explain what in the hell is going on.”
I chuckle. “That’s going to take a while. But I’ll do my best.”
After recovering my chest armor from the bathroom, I follow Justine through a series of doors to the med center. The moment we step into the hall, a brilliant flash of amber fills my vision. Gungnir warms and constrict
s around my arm.
I glance down and place my hand over it. “Ouch.”
Justine stops short. “You okay?”
I shrug. “I’m fine, but Gungnir is waking up…or at least trying to.”
She eyes the bracelet around my wrist. “I thought it hadn’t done anything since your encounter with Katharine.”
I shrug. “Other than the one word with Charlene, it hasn’t.”
Her gaze flickers up to mine. “Okay…do we need to do something?”
It cools and returns to normal. “I don’t think so. I’ll have Mir check it out later.”
She nods. “Okay.”
She swipes her card for the door that leads into the ICU and waves me ahead of her. We’re about halfway down the hall when something thuds heavily against the wall near the end of the corridor. There’s only one bed occupied this far down and that’s Kira’s. Justine barely glances my way before we take off at a sprint.
Nora’s face suddenly and violently appears in the observation window, sending cracks radiating out from the impact. I move in front of Justine, pull open the door, and grab Kira. It takes some doing, but I’m able to pry her fingers off Nora’s throat, and force her back against the wall. Kira brings up her knee and catches me in my injured ribs. It’s not enough to make me let go but I loosen my grip. Kira headbutts me, breaking my nose, and I stagger back. She slams her bare foot into my chest. The blow knocks me off balance and I topple over the bed onto Zadock’s broken body.
What in the fuck is he doing here? That’s a question for later; right now, my daughter has lost her goddamn mind.
The last thing I want to do is hurt her, but she clearly isn’t thinking straight. If she were to get out of here, the damage she could cause isn’t something I want to think about. Nor should she have accidently killing someone weighing on her soul.
Standing up, I do my best to sound calm. “Kira, honey, you need to relax.”
