by T. G. Ayer
Chapter 10
O’HAGAN’S WAS NOISY BUT I needed to be out of the apartment. It wasn’t because my parents were having their illicit affair one floor down.
Or was it?
I just needed a change of scenery that didn’t include demons, or families falling apart.
I wrapped my fingers around the glass of golden liquid and stared at the aged whiskey. Why the hell did I even order the stuff? It wasn’t as if alcohol had any effect on me. Walkers were immune to the effects of any alcohol or regular drug.
But I was in a bar after midnight. Drinking seemed the thing to do.
The air changed, and drifted warm against my skin as someone slid in beside me.
I glanced up and smiled.
Logan pressed warm lips to my cheek, then nuzzled my neck.
“What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” he mumbled against my skin, his spiky stubble tickling me.
“Of all the corny lines in the existence of corny lines, that’s the one you use?” I laughed softly. I had to admit it had been cute. Or maybe Logan was just that cute.
He raised his head, his dark messy hair standing up in all directions, and grinned. Then, as he studied my face, his smile disappeared. “What’s wrong?”
“Crap.”
“Crap?” He frowned. “What kind?”
“All kinds. Bull. Fans. Deep in it. Take your pick.”
“That bad?”
I nodded as I twisted the heavy-bottomed glass.
He sniffed at my whiskey. “Strong stuff.”
“Not for me.”
“I know,” he said with a sigh. “Care to share? Or do you want to keep staring at it?”
I smiled and slid the glass toward him. As he sipped I studied his face, noting the darkness smudging the skin beneath his reddened eyes.
“You still dreaming?” I asked, gently.
“Yep.”
“Anything new?”
“Nope.”
“Saleem?”
“Meeting me here.”
I nodded and sat back wondering what the Djinn had to share that was important enough for them to track me down. Logan’s presence was no accident, then. Saleem’s involvement made it more important than a chance chat.
So I didn’t push. I’d seen Logan struggling with his dreams, confused by memories that weren’t memories, and I prayed he’d find some form of release. He needed low-key interaction and I was happy to comply.
Gold and bronze sparks of light flickered in the shadows of our booth and the djinn appeared in the seat opposite us as if summoned.
Saleem grinned, his dark features matching the sexy smile as he solidified. “Hey gorgeous.”
“Hey, yourself.” I smiled back. He was pretty sizzling for a humanized demon. “Where have you been?”
“Around.” He glanced at Logan, his black eyes glittering. “Busy.”
Busy must have been fairly bad because for the briefest moment Saleem lost his glamor making the swirling tattoos on his skin starkly visible.
“Is everything okay?” asked Logan, his eyes not leaving his friend’s face.
“Not really.”
“Did she take you?”
Saleem nodded, then glanced at me. “Mel took me to find my mother.”
“And?” I urged. Mel Morgan was not only the djinn’s main squeeze—a pairing that I definitely approved of—but she was also probably the most powerful SoulTracker of them all. Mel moved through the veil like Larsson did, but with more skill and power. She could also astral project.
“She’s being held at a compound outside of Virginia.”
I didn’t press him but my and? hovered in the air between us.
“And,” Saleem said “I saw something I hadn’t expected.”
Clearly he needed a prod. “Which was?”
He sighed and ran his fingers through his shoulder-length black hair. “Familiar faces.”
“Familiar faces?” Logan leaned closer, his appropriated drink now forgotten.
“Familiar Omega faces.”
We sat in silence for a while, but none of us were shocked.
“Not surprising,” I said. “Not now that we know they had everything to do with my mom’s abduction.”
“It’s possible they’ve been holding my mother since before they roped me into working for them.”
Saleem looked so defeated I felt a pull of sadness in my gut. Betrayal by an organization you trusted isn’t an easy thing to bear.
“Did you see her?”
“Mel did. She’s fine, but she doesn’t look very happy.” Saleem’s face remained expressionless. He kept his hurt inside, a lot like Logan did.
I turned to Logan. “So Omega is suspect. Do you think they could have something to do with those memories of yours?”
“Memories?” asked Saleem.
Logan’s grimace made it clear he thought I shouldn’t have said anything in front of the djinn, but I shook my head. “Tell him. You need all the help you can get.”
Logan jaw tightened but he relented and gave Saleem a quick précis. Vivid dreams that felt so real they were more like memories. His strong feeling that the girl was real. That she had something to do with his past.
“Have you considered,” I said slowly, thinking aloud, “that she might be your sister?”
As I spoke, Saleem glanced at me, his expression odd.
Logan’s face seemed more haggard than before.
“Of course you have,” I murmured, my mind spinning. “Okay, maybe your memory has been tampered with. We all know Sentinel and Omega both resort to that kind of thing to protect innocents. They must have mages capable of doing the job.”
“I’m not an innocent,” Logan said.
Naturally he’d missed the point. “You were when you were twelve.”
I spoke softly as he pushed away from the table and leaned against the back of the seat. He rested his hands on his thighs, running his palms back and forth along his jeans.
“Maybe,” I continued, watching those restless hands, “they wanted to protect you from the truth.”
He stilled. “What truth?”
I swallowed hard, reached for his left hand and threaded my fingers through his.
“That she’s dead.” I held his fingers tightly, keeping them as close to me as possible. “Have you considered that maybe she died in that fire? Maybe the memories were wiped so that your mind could heal.”
It certainly made sense. To me at least.
Now he looked more than haggard. He looked sick. His head jerked left to right, a ragged negative.
Saleem snorted and we both snapped our attention to him. “What?” I asked, my voice curt and cool.
He raised his eyebrows, then shook his head. “Considering the fact they are holding my mother”—he jerked a thumb at his chest—”and that they abducted and experimented on your mother” —he stabbed a forefinger my way— “I wouldn’t put it past them to be responsible for killing someone you love.”
When he said the last ‘you’ he pointed at Logan. “She could be your sister,” he said gently, his eyes never leaving Logan’s face. “Or even a friend. But she must have meant something to you. Omega seems to be in the habit of taking people who mean a lot to us. If I were you, I wouldn’t trust them right now.”
“I wouldn’t trust them at all.” I didn’t even try to keep the ice from my voice. “At all. Ever.”
The silence stretched across the table, a blanket of daggers. Sharp, tangible, painful.
Logan picked up my glass and downed the last of the drink. He set the glass back on the table a little harder than was necessary. Cleared his throat. “I don’t plan to trust them.”
“Have you thought about joining the High Council Elite?” I was supposed to have been gathering my team. But things had gotten away with me these past couple of days. They’d given me a week to decide, but if they really wanted me, I didn’t think a few days more would matter.
Saleem looked at m
e, outraged. Even Logan stiffened—the instinctive reaction of faithful men to the suggestion they should betray their oaths. But slowly, their expressions changed.
Oaths worked both ways. Omega had sworn loyalty and faithfulness too. Tonight the results of those broken promises cried alone in a compound in Virginia, whispered through Logan’s dreams.
Logan cleared his throat. “We haven’t considered it.” He shared a glance with Saleem. “Not until now.”
“What if we investigated on our own?” Saleem said.
“That’s dangerous, don’t you think? An organization like the Supreme High Council provides backup in case you need it.” I was beginning to sound like Cassie.
Logan shook his head. “Saleem is right. Let’s approach this from a different angle. If we change sides and if there is a mole in the Corps then our families may be in danger. If the girl is my sister and she’s dead, then all they have on me are memories. But if she’s alive somewhere—like Saleem’s mother—then we’ll be endangering both of them. We can’t risk it.”
“So we stay and keep on as normal.” Saleem seemed to have already made up his mind. “We don’t raise eyebrows. Then, on our own time, we investigate the shit out of this whole thing.”
“I’m in,” I said.
Two pairs of eyes snapped to my face, expressions incredulous.
So flattering.
I tensed at the look in Logan’s eyes, the one that said clearly that he didn’t want to endanger me. But, as I glared back at him, my shoulders tense, ready to jump down his throat, he sighed.
“Fine,” he said.
I raised an eyebrow at the single word of assent.
“And Mel is in too.” There was a smile in Saleem’s voice as he spoke the SoulTracker’s name.
I hid a grin. “Good,” I said. “At least with the two of us on the case something will get done right.”
That set the two of them laughing, and I just sat there, uncomfortable at the sound. Not because they were laughing but because this laughter wasn’t joyful. It reeked of desperation.
And fear.
Chapter 11
AFTER O’HAGAN’S, LOGAN, SALEEM, AND I ended up at my apartment.
They had spent an hour hatching their plans for Omega and an investigation into its involvement in their personal lives.
I’d spent that hour staying out of their plans for Omega, biting my tongue when Logan talked about finding Jess and demanding she tell him what she knew. As Jacinta Carnarvon—an enigmatic Titan—would know a lot more than she was willing to share, I doubted he’d be as successful as he wanted.
She was one of the Immortals, a being that had lived for thousands of years, and one who just happens to be guardian to Logan.
Also, she happened to be employed by Omega.
Even now, Logan had no idea that his partner was a Titan whose role was to protect him. Though Jess had confessed as much to me, she still hadn’t told me why he was so important that he needed a Titan to watch over him.
They were still mulling things over when Saleem whisked Logan home leaving me to clean up the kitchen on my own. Which I resolved by heading to bed.
I was still drowsy, squinting at the gleeful morning sunshine streaming through the windows as I made a mental note to ring Mel and talk things through with her as soon as I’d dried the dishes, but I was wiping and putting away the last plate when a knock sounded on my door.
Hurrying to the door, I sniffed the air, finding nothing untoward on my threshold. But when I swung the door open the identity of my visitor took me aback.
Nerina.
It figured. DeathTalkers had no living scent.
My stomach gave a twinge as I forced a smile on my face. “Hello, Nerina,” I said and waved her inside. “Come in.”
The last time I’d seen the DeathTalker I’d just made a deal with her High Priestess in return for a portal key to take me to the Graylands, an in-between plane where the dead remained if they didn’t move on to the next life.
DeathTalkers engendered a feeling of dread in most people, including me, but I knew Nerina better than any of her sisters. DeathTalkers were inherently immune to human emotion—or so went the general opinion. Which is why her behavior was worrying. It told me general opinion was very wrong.
Nerina wore the requisite gray robes, the hood covering her gray-white hair and shadowing the features of her pale face. But today the serene calm she always carried with her was markedly absent.
Her fingers shook and she folded them tightly in front of her waist.
“Are you okay?” I asked, guiding her to the dining table rather than to the sofa. Nerina didn’t seem the lounging type.
She sat across from me, so still that I wondered if I should urge her to talk. Instead, the words, “Would you like some tea?” fell out of my mouth.
What the hell was it with me and tea these days?
She shook her head and twisted her fingers together.
At last she shifted in her seat and raised her eyes to me. Eyes that had been clear and pale with milky irises the last time we’d spoken were now reddened, the way human eyes got when you cried for hours on end.
“What happened?” I asked softly, really worried now.
She lifted her chin the tiniest bit. “I have a message for you, Kailin Odel.”
Why so formal?
I gave a “go ahead” nod, and she took a thready breath, as if she’d been waiting for my permission to speak.
“By order of the High Priestess of the DeathTalkers of the North American Continent you are hereby summoned to fulfill your Blood Promise.”
The words rang out across the apartment and I could have sworn I heard Lady Kira’s imperious voice overlaying Nerina’s voice.
Not too long ago when I’d needed a way to get to the Graylands to save my sister Greer, I’d been forced to appeal to the DeathTalker High Priestess. She’d given me a key that allowed me to traverse the veil between worlds, and in return she’d extracted a Blood Promise.
And Lady Kira was calling in her marker. Of course I had little choice but to respond. I’d known when I’d struck the bargain that one day I’d have to fulfill my end of it. I just hadn’t expected it to be so soon. Or sound so ominous.
Because the girl’s tone was worrying.
“Of course I’ll come,” I told her. “But what’s wrong? You can tell me.”
I waited while Nerina bit her trembling lip. When I leaned closer she jerked her head away, and I figured she had no authority to tell me what I wanted to know.
That left me with one choice. To go to the DeathTalker estate and find out for myself.
Chapter 12
AS SOON AS NERINA LEFT, I hurried to my room to change. Soft slacks and an oversized tee were not the clothes I wanted to wear when going head-to-head with the ice-priestess.
I drew on a pair of formal black pants, a silky long-sleeved blouse, and my leather jacket—a concession to normal working attire.
I was pulling on a pair of black high-heeled ankle boots—and wondering why I even bothered to dress up for a woman who neither liked nor respected me—when someone knocked.
This place was Grand Central Station all of a sudden.
I stifled a grumble and headed to the door, only mildly appeased to detect Logan’s signature scent on the air.
I’d gotten into the habit of sniffing before I opened the door, and before I entered the apartment. I’d let my guard down once and paid for it. My wood floor still bore the marks of my abduction by a band of crazed Walkers.
Lesson learned.
I opened the door and though I was in a hurry, one look at his face sent me straight into his arms.
He’d held back last night while Saleem had been with us, and now the truth of his emotions showed in his eyes.
He crushed me tight for a moment and then I leaned back so I could read his expression. “I wish I could help you remember.”
He grabbed my butt, gave it a squeeze then looked over my shou
lder his expression a little chagrined.
I laughed. “Don’t worry. Grams won’t catch you in the act. She’s off somewhere investigating something.”
I pulled him inside and closed the door. “I can’t stay, sorry. I’m on my way out.”
“That’s fine. Just came by to thank you, and to tell you not to worry about me.” There was an odd note in his voice.
I thought I knew why. “You heard about the High Council meeting.”
He nodded. “I have a high clearance level.”
“Figures,” I said, as I zipped up my boots. “I was going to tell you, then Saleem came and . . .”
“You don’t have to explain.” His crooked smile flashed. “You always put everyone else first. I’m used to it.” He curled his arm around my waist. “So how was it?”
“Awful. You should have seen Dad’s face.” Then I laughed softly. “And wonderful, too. Three non-walker women threw the pack law back in their faces. It was brilliant.”
He chuckled. “I heard. A lot of people are impressed with them. So what happens now?”
“Now the couples stay away from each other until things settle and they have a better handle on where the clans stand in relation to the High Council.”
I leaned back to study his face, my stomach a little queasy as I wondered if I could trust him with the whole truth.
His eyebrows rose. “Sounds like they got it bad for your dad. What’d he do to them?”
“What makes you think he did anything?” I asked, unable to keep the defensive note from my voice.
“Well, they aren’t likely to have picked his name from a hat. Whether he did something on purpose or it’s just because he is the man he is, they have a reason. Find that reason, then you find the way to break them.”
Good point.
Logan ducked down to scan my face, took my chin with gentle fingers. “Nothing you say to me will ever be repeated beyond this room.”
“Really?” I patted him down, shoulders, hips. Butt. “What if you’re wired?”
He frowned, seriously considering it. “If I am, I actually have no way of knowing. So good point. Let me verify our security before you say anything you regret.”
