by Shéa MacLeod
“Why me? That one’s more up your alley.”
Kabita shook her head. “Not this time. I have some things I need to take care of.” Again that flash of something in her eyes. There for a moment, then quickly hidden.
I eyed her over the file. Fine lines between her eyes told me there was something going on. Something wrong. “Tell me.”
She sighed. “My cousin. I haven’t seen her in several years, but we were close as children. I got a call from my brother Dex last night. She was murdered two days ago.”
“Shit, Kabita, I’m sorry.”
She shrugged. “These things happen sometimes. She knew the risks.” It sounded cold, but I knew better. Kabita kept her pain to herself. It was just her way.
I frowned. “The risks? Was she into drugs or something?”
She gave me The Look. “Don’t be daft, Morgan. She was MI8.”
Well slap me with a wet noodle. MI8 was the British intelligence agency responsible for handling paranormal activity, mythical creatures, and things that go bump in the night. MI8 had “officially” ceased operations after World War II, but they continued their work in secret though they didn’t have the power they once did. They were the ones that locked my ass up back in the day to see if I would turn after my attack. I guess that explained why Kabita was able to get me out of MI8 custody. Go Kabita.
“Double shit. Vamp? Demon?” MI8 agents didn’t get murdered by normal people. Mostly because normal people didn’t even know MI8 existed.
“I don’t know, but Dex asked me to come.” Her face turned hard and cold, which was sort of spooky on a face made for laughter and smiles. “I’m going to kill the son of a bitch who hurt my family.”
Oh, yeah, this was serious. Kabita never swore. “Fine. Sounds like a plan. I’m going with you. Give me two hours. I’ll do this hunt while you make the arrangements. You are not doing this thing alone.”
Her smile was tight and her eyes hard and sharp as flint. “Thanks.”
I shook my head. “That’s what friends are for.”
“I know what this might cost you.”
She meant going back. Returning to London where I’d died. Or not-died. Or whatever. But she was wrong. I loved London. Always had. I was drawn to it.
Plus the vampire that had killed me was still out there. It was time for a little payback, not just for Kabita’s cousin, but for me.
“You’re wrong Kabita.” I stood up and headed for the supply room. I’d need some salt and a few other bits and pieces if I was going to hunt down a Keres. At the door I turned back. “It won’t cost me a thing. I plan on collecting on an old debt.” I could feel the smile stretching across my face. It wasn’t a happy smile.
For the first time Kabita looked just a little bit scared. I wasn’t sure if she was scared of me or for me. Then she smiled back. “Two hours.”
And her smile was fearsome.
Chapter Two
Two hours wasn’t much time to take care of a Keres, especially since I wasn’t a witch. So I made a quick phone call.
“Majicks and Potions. Eddie here.” Eddie Mulligan ran an occult shop in Portland and had helped me out on more than one occasion. It had been Eddie who’d taught me what he knew about the Darkness and how to control it. More or less.
“Hi, Eddie, it’s Morgan. I need your help.”
“Morgan!” his voice boomed cheerfully through my earpiece. “So good to hear from you. What do you need? Love potion? Banishing spell? Three pronged crossbow arrows?”
“Three pronged crossbow arrows? You’ve got those?”
“Of course!” His chuckled warmed my heart. Eddie had a way of making a person feel good, even when the proverbial shit was hitting the fan. “Shall I set some aside for you?”
“Now that you mention it, sure. But that’s not what I called about. Do you know how to kill a Keres?”
“A death spirit? Good lords above. Are you sure it’s a Keres?”
“That’s what Kabita says,” I assured him.
“Well, then.” I heard him clear his throat. His tone was serious. “You’ve got a problem. You can’t kill a Keres. A Keres is a spirit and spirits, as you know, are non-corporeal by their very essence. They only turn corporeal when they are about to feed.”
“Um, yeah, I sort of got that. So, if I can’t kill it, what do I do?”
“Banish it, of course.” His voice had returned to its natural state of jubilance. I swear Eddie couldn’t be solemn for more than five minutes if his life depended on it. “It’s really very simple. First you need to call the Darkness.”
***
Simple it may have been, but I was so not looking forward to the banishing. Without the natural magic of a witch, there was only one way to call a Keres, according to Eddie. Keres were attracted to death, the more violent the death the better. Since I wasn’t about to kill myself just to trap a Keres, I used the only other weapon in my arsenal.
I really tried to avoid using the Darkness. The more I used it, the more it felt like it was trying to take over. Gods only knew what would happen if it did. Unfortunately, if I wanted to banish the death spirit, I didn’t have much of a choice.
So I drove to the parking lot near the top of Rocky Butte, a large hill overlooking Portland, and then hiked up the short distance to the lookout. It was pretty much the highest natural area in the city. Or at least the one with the best view. It was dinner time, so I had the place to myself, which was good. Last thing I needed was an audience.
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I focused deep down to that place inside where the Darkness lived. A few months ago I hadn’t even known it was there, but now it seemed I no longer needed to channel the darkness outside. Now it writhed and seethed and was a living thing trapped inside me, waiting to get out. Sometimes it got out on its own. Like earlier with the Ripper demon. Now it was time to let it loose deliberately.
I visualized holding on to the Darkness like one might hold a dog on a leash. Then holding fast to the end of the leash, I let the dog run. The Darkness heaved its way out of me with a scream of relief, snapping my head back and nearly knocking me off my feet. It rushed through me, the pressure building until I wanted to scream. That’s when I heard it, the death cry of the Keres.
My eyes popped open, but it was like looking up through a dark, swirling well. I could see the Keres wheeling in the sky above me, black wings stretched against the dying rays of the sun. She screamed at me, hungry for the Darkness that lived inside me.
The Darkness screamed back.
***
The Keres swooped down, bone white fangs dripping with venom, eyes blood red in a skull like face. I shuddered. Fear mixed with exhilaration streaked through me as the Darkness boiled and raged, reaching for its prey.
Before the Darkness could take over, I shoved it down. It reared and snapped, but I wasn’t about to allow it to control me, so I shoved harder. It retreated almost sullenly into that deep place within me.
The Keres swooped in, claws extended. I reached into my pocket and came out with a handful of salt. Not that stupid table salt, either, but nice, big chunks of rock salt. I tossed it straight into her face.
She shrieked as the salt sizzled against her skin, and went tumbling ass over teakettle across the top of Rocky Butte. I pulled out another handful of salt and as I threw it over her I yelled:
“Thuraze Keres, ouk eni Anthesteria!”
Which is apparently something along the lines of “Keres, I banish you!” in Greek. Granted it sounds a lot cooler in Greek.
The ground under the Keres cracked open, and with a final angry shriek, she disappeared into the earth. Totally cool and much easier than I’d imagined. Thank goodness Kabita had taught me that spell.
The Darkness heaved up, making one last effort to escape. I slammed the metaphorical lid down on it.
I wondered if some day I wouldn’t be able to close that lid, but I shoved that thought aside. I had more important things to do than worry about some da
y.
***
I sank into the roomy leather seat with a sigh of relief. That was one thing about being a Hunter. I’d never have to fly coach again.
I made sure my portable weapons locker was locked and stowed safely under my seat. The UK had strict weapons laws, not to mention the rules about weapons on board a plane. Fortunately I had a nifty little license that allowed me to carry anywhere.
I wiggled a little so the leather squeaked under my butt. Yeah, this was living. I wondered if they’d serve lobster. Not that I liked lobster. In fact, I loathed seafood, but it was the thought of it that counted.
“Don’t worry, there’s no lobster.” Kabita dropped into the seat next to me. “It’s salmon.”
I must have turned pale because she burst out laughing. Of all the fish in all the world, salmon was the rankest. And being from the Pacific Northwest I’d been around the best there was. Didn’t matter. I still thought the stuff was vile.
“Don’t worry,” she chuckled, “I ordered the vegetarian meal for you.”
“Thank the gods. I will love you forever,” I said rather more fervently than strictly necessary.
She shook her head as she settled back into the plush seat and pulled out a stack of files. All work and no play made for a very dull life indeed, so I snagged a book out of my carry on and settled in. It was probably weird that I was addicted to paranormal romances seeing as how I dealt with paranormal crap every day. You’d think I’d want to read something different. But my uncle was a cop and he read crime novels, so it couldn’t be that weird.
I barely noticed the plane ramming down the runway and lifting into the sky, I was so deep into the story. There were a handful of authors who made the paranormal fun, even to someone who spent her life steeped in it. L.M. Pruitt knew her stuff, all right. I wondered vaguely if maybe Pruitt was more than just a writer of the paranormal. Another Hunter maybe?
Naw. Probably not. Surely the government wouldn’t let a Hunter get away with writing about the things they hunted. Then again, there was that Stargate episode where the Air Force encouraged the making of a sci fi TV show to hide rumors of the “real” Stargate program. I might sound like a conspiracy nut, but I’d bet my last dollar the government would totally do something like that. Trevor Daly certainly would be capable of pulling something that sneaky. The rat bastard.
Thoughts of Trevor led me to thoughts of Jack and the weirdness that had become our relationship. Or lack thereof.
Something had been developing between us, I’d no doubt of that. There’d definitely been some steamy hot moments. Being with him had been amazing. And then everything had gone to hell in a hand basket, and Jack had gotten all weird on me.
For a whole week after we’d discovered I was not only a descendent of Atlantis but actually a member of the Royal Bloodline, Jack had pretty much refused to talk to me except over the phone in a professional capacity. So I finally did what I do best: I hunted him down and cornered him.
“Listen, Jack, this is bullshit. You’ve got to talk to me. What the hell is going on?” I’d actually broken into his house and waited for him to come home one night. Yeah, totally stalker, but it was the only way I was going to get him to talk.
“My lady ... ”
“Don’t you ‘my lady’ me,” I snarled, poking my finger into his chest. It was very satisfying, poking a man nearly twice my size, and an ancient, immortal Templar Knight to boot. “I am tired of this crap. One minute we’re all hot and heavy and the next minute you’re bowing and scraping and acting like I’ve got rabies or something.”
I was pretty sure he smirked a little, but he schooled his features so fast it was hard to tell. Jack wasn’t exactly expressive even in the best of times. That sounded all romantic and shit, like a proper Mr. Darcy, but in real life, it was annoying as hell.
He heaved a sigh. “Listen Morgan.” He plopped down onto his chocolate chenille sofa so I curled into the overstuffed matching chair opposite him. Jack had the comfiest living room furniture ever. “Things have changed. When I thought you were just another one of us ... ” He waved his hand around as though trying to grasp inspiration from the ethos.
One of us. I knew what he meant. He meant Sunwalkers. Humans with Atlantean DNA who’d been infected by vampirism. The Atlantean DNA forced the sickness to mutate so that instead of becoming vampires, they became powerful, nearly immortal creatures who could walk in the sun. Jack seemed to think I was one of them. Frankly, I thought he was bloody nuts. At least, I hoped he was.
“So, what, you can date another Sunwalker, but not me?” I couldn’t help it if my voice was just this side of testy.
“I’m the Guardian, Morgan.”
“Yeah, of the amulet. And the amulet found its owner, so you can stop worrying about the stupid thing. It’s my problem now.” As the last of the Royal Bloodline, the amulet had bonded to me. I wasn’t sure exactly what that meant other than it possibly having something to do with waking the Darkness in me, but I did know that essentially the amulet was mine.
He smiled a little. “That’s true. The amulet is now yours to protect, but the Guardian’s job doesn’t end with the amulet. It merely transfers to the one who holds the amulet.”
I blinked a little. “Say what?” Call me slow, but I wasn’t liking where this was heading.
“I am now your Guardian, Morgan Bailey. It is my sworn duty to protect you, Keeper of the Key of Atlantis.”
Oh, bloody hell. I now had my own personal body guard. Fantastic.
“Right, OK,” I said with a nod, trying to be all reasonable. “I’m the Keeper, you’re the Guardian, fine. I still don’t see the problem.”
His features were drawn and tight and he looked more tired than I’d ever seen him, his ocean colored eyes shadowed, golden skin paler than usual. The delicate skin under his eyes was so deeply purple it looked like a bruise. Frankly, he looked like crap.
“The problem is that if I get involved with you ... romantically, I can’t do my job. That is why the Guardian is forbidden to have a ... relationship with the Keeper.”
“Oh, that is bullshit,” I snapped, at the end of my patience. “That’s some stupid crappy rule from what, ten thousand years ago? This is the twenty-first century, for crying out loud.”
“And the logic still applies.” His voice was firm. “If a warrior grows too close to his charge, it becomes impossible for him to execute his duty.” He sounded like he was quoting from a rule book. He probably was. Do’s and Don’ts for the Single Templar or something equally ridiculous.
“So get someone else to play Guardian. You can be like … the assistant Guardian or something.”
“I can’t, Morgan. The amulet chose me. There’s nothing I can do to change that. I wouldn’t even if I could.”
There really hadn’t been much to say after that. He wasn’t budging and neither was I. But you can’t force someone to want to be with you and short of smacking him upside the head with a frying pan, I wasn’t going to get him to see things my way. OK, probably I wouldn’t get him to see things my way even with the frying pan, but it sure would have made me feel better.
So, I left, and I hadn’t seen him since, though I knew he was there in the background, keeping an eye on me. He’d step in if I really needed him. So far I hadn’t. I guess it gave me some comfort to know he was there, letting me do my thing, but still there just in case I needed protecting.
Stupid man. I really hated it when he went all noble. He was impossible to move. Must be a throw back to his Templar days.
I sighed. He was going to be seriously pissed when he figured out I’d flown to London without him.
***
Heathrow was just as mental as I remembered it. In some ways it was actually rather beautiful, all gleaming marble and shiny steel with loads and loads of highly polished glass. In other ways it was a total nightmare: people running everywhere, noise and light and complete craziness. It was a great place to people watch, though, and I smiled as long
separated friends and relatives embraced each other with unbridled enthusiasm.
“Come on.” Kabita motioned toward the huge bank of elevators just outside the exit doors. “Dex is meeting us outside Departures.”
That meant we had to go down one floor and out the sky bridge. I hoped Kabita’s brother wasn’t late. I was exhausted and felt like I hadn’t had a bath in a year. A shower was definitely in order.
As we headed toward the lifts, a young woman coming the other way brushed past us. I wouldn’t have paid her any attention except that when she saw Kabita, she got the oddest look on her face. A strange mix of surprise, anger and glee. Then she was gone. Weird.
“Um, Kabita, did you see that girl?”
She turned and one silky black brow went up. “What girl?”
“The one that just passed us.” I jerked my head in the direction she’d disappeared.
She shook her head and kept walking. “Wasn’t paying that much attention. Why?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. She acted like maybe she knew you or recognized you or something. It was weird.”
“What did she look like?” She propped herself against the wall of the lift and waited for it to descend to the ground floor before ascending to the first floor and Departures. The elevators in Terminal Five were all automated and ran in a particular cycle. I’d seen more than one tourist standing around looking absolutely baffled trying to figure out where the call button was.
“Really short platinum blond hair. Kind of spiky. Brown eyes. About my height. Looked like she had a tattoo on her arm, but I didn’t catch what it was.” She also moved just like a Hunter, but I didn’t mention that. London, after all, was full of Hunters. In a city of over eight million people, there was plenty of work for them. I ought to know.
