by T. G. Ayer
“You know me so well,” I said dryly, then heaved my rucksack onto my shoulder. “Thanks for the information. I’ll pass it on to my superiors. Is there any way that we can contact you in the future, just in case?”
He paused for a moment looking at the ceiling as if the answer lay somewhere in the white paint. Then he smiled. “I think there might be a way. When you get back, phone someone or email someone. It can be a chat room message or a text message. Mention my name.”
“Just your name.”
He nodded. “Use something that can’t be tapped, like a secure line somewhere. I think I will be able to hear any type of use of my name along those communication lines. It was my name and the mention of Division Seven that got my attention when I arrived here.”
“You should’ve been working with the CIA,” I told him. “Thanks.” He’d turned out to be more helpful than anyone else so far.
For a couple seconds he looked serious. “They were actually my first choice. But after Dad was killed . . . ”
Regret and grief. They filled the brief silence—and were two emotions I didn’t want to face.
“Their loss,” I told him, and meant it. “You’ve helped me a lot.”
“I only hope that I won’t live to regret it.” His snort of laughter edged into the hysterical. “Live. What a joke.”
Unwilling to watch his descent into a grief I couldn’t fix I moved toward the door.
He beat me to it. “Let me help you with that.”
I moved aside as he pointed at the dresser with a transparent hand. Then he beckoned it with three crooked fingers and it floated down the little passage toward him, passing inches in front of me as it went.
I was amazed. It wasn’t every day I met a human who wasn’t paranormal but had paranormal powers. And in all my years as a walker, I’d never heard of a half-human half-paranormal telekinetic dead man.
He lowered the dresser and turned to me. “I’ll stay with you until you leave the Graylands. Just in case.”
I squinted at him. “I don’t plan to leave yet.”
His face fell, his expression filling with fear. “But I can’t leave you alone here. Not with them looking for you.”
“Who’s looking for me?” I asked stiffening.
He gave me the kind of look Grams gave me when I was being particularly dense. “The people who shot you, of course. Do you think they’d let you hang around here, especially when you survived an attempt to kill you?” Then he shook his head as if he couldn’t believe my choice. “I told you about the planes. They are planning something bad. Shouldn’t you be going back and warning everyone? You should be trying to stop them. Or at the very least be prepared.”
Okay, he was actually making sense. My fingers tightened on the strap on my shoulder. “You’re probably right.” I ignored his smile of relief. I had to find out more about this plane and what it was that they planned to drop from the aircrafts. “I’ll go back, but if I find you’ve been leading me on a wild goose chase I’ll be happy to come back and deal with you.”
He nodded and raised his hands in front of his chest. “I understand. But you have nothing to worry about. I only want to help you.”
“Thank you,” I said giving the room behind him one last scan. “I only hope we can find out more about this plan in time.”
“I’ll keep an ear out. I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”
“How will you contact me?”
“I’ll text you.”
My inside man was a half-human, half-paranormal, telekinetic ghost. Who could text.
Life got weirder every day.
Chapter 43
I LEFT THE GRAYLANDS, MY mind filled with thoughts of what Daniel had just told me. It wasn’t that I doubted his truthfulness, it was just that I found it hard to believe someone would go to such lengths to rid the world of paranormals.
My body was still weak from the bullet’s poison, and running in walker mode had been a total stress on my energy levels. By the time I made it to the lake and jumped through the seal I was lightheaded. When I landed on the wooden dock I tripped and almost fell face first onto the platform.
I arrived as weak tendrils of sunlight danced on the lake. I got to my feet, pretended my muscles weren’t wobbly, and stepped off the dock and onto solid ground.
At the top of the shallow rise I found Anjelo pacing back and forth, his hands on his hips.
“Took you long enough,” he rasped.
I studied him from head to toe. He looked like he hadn’t slept since I’d left. The skin on his face sagged, making him look years older than he really was, and he wore the Tweed peaked cap I thought he’d gotten rid of ages ago. It hid his spiky blond hair—which was probably a good thing. Anjelo in this mood was a typical super-focused teenager. Bathing was not on the top of his priorities.
He’d lost Lily once already. Clearly he wasn’t holding up well the second time around.
“Sorry about that. I got shot again.” There was no sharpness in my tone. I understood completely what he was going through. “Let’s go,” I said as I continued walking past. “We have work to do.”
“Did you find anything useful?” he asked, desperation edging his every word.
“I have an idea of who might have her,” I said. “But until we know for sure we need to step carefully.”
Anjelo rocked to a standstill. “Who is it?”
I stopped and placed a hand on his shoulder, wincing as the wound pulled a little.
“I found the two kids,” I said. “They gave me an idea of who—and more particularly, why.”
His eyes blazed. “I don’t care why. Who is it?”
“But I can’t say because I’m not sure. The person they described sounds like the one I suspect, but I’m not going to accuse without proof. That would have severe repercussions.”
“You’re not going to tell me?” Anjelo’s voice was hard.
I raised an eyebrow. “And have you go straight to him and either destroy his reputation if I’m wrong or get yourself killed if I’m right? I don’t think so.”
He made a strange, strangled sound and looked up at me with bleak, resigned eyes. “Tell me you have a plan.”
“I have a plan,” I deadpanned, and took his snort as a positive thing.
“Yeah? What?”
“Get back to my apartment. Speak to Logan and Grandma Ivy about the ramblings of a well-informed ghost. Stop the creep who’s trying to kill us. And, when I’m done, Anjelo, heads will roll.”
“And Lily?”
I hardened my heart, because if I felt sorry for him I would waste time telling everything right here, right now. “Not until we’re back at the apartment. The longer we wait, the more chance there is that Lily will get hurt.”
We shifted into walker speed and raced back to my apartment, pausing only when we neared the building and were both hidden in shadows. To an onlooker, it would appear that the thick darkness had spewed out two people. I hoped we wouldn’t have our pictures spread across some tabloid front page under the heading of time-travelers or something equally weird.
When we entered the building, we slowed to a stop and I urged my panther senses into full strength. I scented the air, listened for footsteps and heartbeats. Nothing.
No scents overlaid those of my attackers, not even those of Mom and Grams. Neither had returned home since I’d left. I wished they were there. I needed to get the word out. Now I’d have to waste time waiting.
Together Anjelo and I climbed the stairs to my apartment. Once inside I dropped my bag on the table and sank into the closest chair. Tired. Dizzy. I sucked in a deep breath.
Anjelo who’d begun his pacing the moment we entered, stopped. “What’s wrong?” He came to crouch beside me.
“Just the after-effects of the bullet wound.”
“What bullet wound?”
“The one in my back. Remember? I told you I was shot.”
“Shit. Kai, I didn’t realize you were injured.” H
e looked crestfallen, upset with himself with his lack of consideration.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m tired, that’s all. I’ll shower and clean up, but first I need to send out a few messages.” I grabbed my phone from my pocket and was about to tap out messages to various friends and family when I froze.
“Kai?” Anjelo had been watching me.
“I just realized that everything we send electronically can be traced, or tapped, or tracked. Or something.”
“What makes you think that?”
I met his eyes. “The ghost who spoke to me. Daniel. He said he can get into the communications systems and find any communications in relation to whatever he is searching for.”
Anjelo’s eyes lit up. “Then if he wanted to he could search for Lily.”
I nodded. “Yes, but the killer isn’t going to be stupid enough to use her name.” I tapped a nail on the dining table. “But you do have a point. Let’s get ourselves sorted and then I’ll contact him.”
I got to my feet. “Why don’t you text my parents, Grams, and Logan? It’ll be safer. Tell them to meet at Dad’s place.”
He looked to be on the verge of panic. “What am I supposed to say?”
“Say . . . ” I considered. “Say I’m calling a family meeting about the alpha situation. They’ll all know it’s bogus and they’ll guess I want to keep this on the down-low.”
Anjelo nodded, relieved. “You shower. I’ll text.”
Showering and washing my hair proved to be more taxing than I’d thought, but in the end, I was clean and warm. Though walkers generate their own comfortable level of body heat it didn’t stop us from losing most of it while we were in the Graylands.
After my shower, I dressed in jeans, a white tee and a wool-lined leather jacket. I’d get the one I wore in the Graylands cleaned before I decided what to do about the hole in it.
I followed the stench of burned toast to the kitchen where Anjelo was scraping carbon off his snack. Grateful that he didn’t offer me any I wandered into the living room and dropped down onto the sofa. It was hard not to hear him crunching the dry whole-grain. It was harder not to think about Lily.
I didn’t want to think about Lily. I couldn’t help her, and wherever she was and whatever she was going through was outside of my control. Things outside of my control made me anxious. When I got anxious I was liable to do something stupid.
When someone knocked on the door Anjelo jogged over to answer. I stayed where I was, inhaling Logan’s spicy scent as he waited outside.
My heart ached a little as I thought about how much we’d been through and how—in spite of all the obstacles—we’d remained strong. Were we strong enough to hurdle these barriers as well? Or would we fall? Crack? Shatter?
Part of me felt as if he’d already dumped me.
That part of me wasn’t reassured when he came in, either. His expression was grim enough to send a rock straight to the pit of my stomach.
But as he came closer his expression cleared.
I shoved to my feet despite my dizziness and went to him, relieved.
When his arms closed around me, however, it wasn’t a hug. It was muscle memory and obligation, tension and concern. There was no warmth. No tender emotion.
His action hurt me almost more than I could handle. I wanted to pull away, to reject him as I felt rejected.
I didn’t.
Instead, I forced my body to relax. It was stupid to get upset because he was upset about something that had no bearing on our personal relationship.
Lily’s abduction, the murders, the possibility that Storm was our Thor, all put unrelieved stress on everyone I cared about.
I stepped back and smiled, trying to calm the tempest within my heart as I met his gaze. His lips curved up too and I found myself searching his eyes for any corresponding warmth.
There was none, and my smile faltered
Still, I took a calming breath and said, “Thanks for coming. We need to get to my dad’s place fast. I have news for everyone, and we need a plan in place like yesterday.”
“You and I need to talk first,” he said.
“Sure.” I glanced over to where Anjelo loitered in the kitchen, looking uncomfortable. “Anjelo, go on ahead. We’ll be there soon.”
He nodded, evading my eyes. “Yeah. I’ll be there soon. Just got something to see to first.”
I frowned. What was he up to? “And what’s that?”
Anjelo lifted his chin. “I just got a few things to look into, okay?” He sounded defensive, and hurt.
So I gave him the benefit of the doubt and forced a smile on my face. “Let me know if you find anything.”
He gave me a short nod and sketched Logan a quick salute before heading silently out the door.
Logan waited until Anjelo’s footsteps faded away before he dropped his bomb. “I can’t go with you.”
His words felt like rocks, hard and merciless. What the hell was up with him? “You’re not coming to Tukats?”
He shook his head. “It’s not a good idea.”
Now I wasn’t just hurt. I was furious. “Why the hell not?”
“Your family is Sentinel, remember?”
“This isn’t a Sentinel problem,” I said. “It’s not even an Omega problem. It’s everyone’s problem. Every paranormal in the world is in danger, and until we catch this bastard we’re counting off our days until he kills us.”
I gave him a quick rundown of everything that had happened since we last spoke; Blake’s attack, Lily’s abduction, my tour of the Graylands, and everything the three ghosts had passed on.
I thought it best to bypass the part about getting shot again.
“There is only one person I know who fits their description and is familiar with all species of paranormals.”
“Storm.”
I nodded. “He’s also fully capable of doing what’s been done.”
Logan stiffened. “What makes you think that?”
I narrowed my eyes. “Because he’s an Immortal, of course. I thought you knew?”
He gave a brief nod, which could have meant, ‘Yes, I know’ or ‘Thanks for telling me’. It was hard to tell sometimes with Logan. “You really think Storm is involved?”
I nodded. “I don’t want to, but Emma described him exactly. So did Daniel, the ghost. How many people do you know fit the tall, blond, blue-eyed, powerful, and familiar description?”
Logan blew out a breath. “Well, there must be more than just Storm. Seriously, Kai. Do you really think a man who’s been helping paranormals for years and done so much for the kids around this city and others is responsible for trying to wipe us off the face of the earth?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. I hope I’m just imagining it. I don’t want it to be true. But we have to consider the possibility.”
For the first time since he walked in the door Logan—my Logan—looked at me. Compassionate. Understanding. Tender. “Kai,” he said, a world of patience in his voice, “just because the killer turned out to be someone close to you last time doesn’t mean history is about to repeat itself.”
“I know that.” I snapped it out, but I didn’t care. Right now my emotions were tangled, and he hadn’t heard what I’d heard and seen what I’d seen. “I hate even thinking about it, but the kids said that the man was someone they trusted. That much they did recall. But the rest of their memories about him were wiped. Don’t you find that odd?”
Logan nodded. “And who better to wipe their memories than someone who has close access to them?”
“Exactly.” I hesitated. “He could have been planning this for years, learning our weaknesses as he works with us. Over the last few decades he’s taken in almost every single species of paranormal.”
Logan shook his head. “I’m still not sure I believe he’s capable of murdering the very children he claims to want to protect.”
He walked over to the window, staring out at the dull sky through a dusting of polluted fog. After a moment he
sighed, massaged his forehead. “As much as I want to deny it,” he said, “the logic is sound. Storm could be the killer. I won’t strike him off the list of possible suspects. I also won’t pretend to like it.”
I wasn’t asking him to like it. “I know how you feel. To be honest I’m a little scared to tell Grams.”
He sighed. “I thought it would be a relief to clear Omega of any wrongdoing.”
I folded my arms and raised an eyebrow. “Who says Omega is cleared?”
I sensed his withdrawal and moved to stand beside him. “I’m sorry,” I said, looping my arm through his. “I hope you’re right. I swear I do.”
He said nothing, made no move to hold me. His body language shouted don’t touch me so loudly my ears ached, but I stayed where I was.
How could I judge him for his personal demons when I had my own making me dance like a crazy person to their insane tune?
And yet, when he pulled away from me, I did judge him and my heart broke a little.
Chapter 44
HURT SEEPED LIKE HOT LAVA into the cracks in my heart even as I told myself I was being unfair.
From Logan’s point of view Omega was the only family he’d known since his childhood. Suggesting it was guilty of such horrible crimes would make him feel defensive and, because he was Logan, responsible. I had to be mature about this.
“Okay,” I said. “Let’s assume you’re right and Omega isn’t involved. Then what about Blake? Why did he attack me? Who is he working for?”
Logan shrugged. “How would I know?”
It wasn’t mature to punch someone for being an asshole. “You said you knew him.”
“Knew. Past tense.” Logan sighed, a deep exhalation that sounded like he’d been holding it for weeks. “A long time ago. His name isn’t Blake. It’s Brett Nevins. He’s an air mage.”
At last. Something concrete. “An air mage. That makes sense. Daniel—Daniel Chou, the agent you shot Cicero, remember?—said things got a little cold when Blake got angry.”
Logan rubbed his chin. “I haven’t seen him in years. He probably doesn’t work for Omega anymore.”
