Shattered Spirits

by C. I. Black

  The door opened and framed Swipe, his broad shoulders inches from either side of the doorway, his expression hard.

  Capri’s brain stuttered. “What are you doing here?”

  Movement behind Swipe drew her attention: Gig peering from behind the bigger, older drake.

  What the hell?

  A wave of agony snapped through her. She sucked in a breath, determined not to let her team—particularly Swipe—see her this weak. “Not that I’m not happy you’re here, but you shouldn’t have risked Regis’s ire by coming here.”

  Swipe rolled his eyes. “We’re not doing this for you.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Gig mumbled.

  Swipe shot him a dark look, then turned that glare back to Capri. “Regis is a fool for not recognizing the value of our team. The European and Asian Clean Teams won’t be able to pick up our workload, and save for the two drakes on those teams, you’re the only other one able to manipulate the minds of humans.”

  “So you’re doing this for the sake of all dragon-kind?” Yeah, no love between them, that was for sure.

  “In part. I’m also doing it because Regis is a dick and I know he just sent you to Odyne for his own sick amusement. I’d also be a really shitty Second if I didn’t make an effort.”

  “Gee, I never knew you cared.” Another wave of agony shot through her. She bit back a gasp, but Swipe’s eyes flashed wide. He’d noticed.

  “That, and you think I’d trust anyone else to watch my back while I’m tranced out, cleaning up some stupid drake’s mess?” He snorted and stepped back, giving her room to ease out into the hall. “Besides, Gig managed to get that stupid cell phone to talk, and boy, did it talk.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Right now, she couldn’t care less about human mages and her job to protect dragon-kind’s secret. She needed to get to Ryan and protect him. More agony swept through her. Her knees started to buckle, and she ground her teeth, willing herself to stay upright.

  Swipe’s hands twitched, as if he wanted to reach for her. “Seems like a drake has been in contact with those mages.”

  “We already know drakes had been in contact with them. They were a part of Zenobia’s coup.”

  “No,” Gig said. “This is after the coup. Like recently. And he—or she—wants Barna dead.”

  There were so many possibilities for who and why, Capri couldn’t wrap her aching head around them. Any one of the doyens could want to kill Barna for any number of reasons. Barna’s coterie, the Major Brown, was the wealthiest—aside from the Royal Coterie—and Barna controlled large chunks of real estate in Newgate, the city with the largest number of dragons living there and with the largest number of dragon visitors. Barna had been laughing all the way to the bank after his investments in the little town of Newgate started paying off.

  “We need to get to the gateroom,” Swipe said. “And we need to get to Barna’s gala. Even Diablo said something big was going down, which means it must be big for that drake to call us for backup.”

  That did have to be big. Diablo never called anyone for anything.

  She forced herself to stride down the hall toward freedom, fighting the agony pounding through her—although how free she really was could be debated. The moment this mess was over, Tobias would be obligated to toss her back into the dungeon. That was, if she returned to her service with the Chamberlain’s office. After she wiped Ryan’s memory and saved him from going insane, she would need the distraction of work. But returning wasn’t an option. Regis would want her head and she doubted he’d care if he permanently destroyed her soul and lost a valuable member of the Clean Team.

  She rounded a corner. The dungeon’s main arch towered before her, marking the exit and the edge of the magical ward preventing dragons with the ability to gate without an anchor from leaving.

  “All right.” She tried to pick up speed, but another burst of pain swept over her, threatening her balance. “Our best bet is to find Barna and discreetly protect him, use him as bait.” And then she could call Grey and see if he’d found Ryan. Please let him have found Ryan.

  “That still doesn’t help us figure out who the drake is that hired them,” Swipe said.

  “Once we’ve got a mage in custody, I can make him talk.” She’d rip her earth magic into whoever they caught and learn the truth. But she didn’t want to waste time fighting mages and protecting Barna. She wanted to find Ryan. To hell with her duty. Dragon-kind didn’t give a damn about her—

  Which wasn’t true. It was only Regis who didn’t care. Hiro and Grey and Gig and even Swipe, they cared about her. They wouldn’t understand how she could be inamorated to a human mage—well, maybe Grey could since he and Hunter were like brothers—but that didn’t matter. They were still her friends and their secret needed to be protected. And really, humanity needed to be protected from the truth, too. How many humans would fall to the soul sickness, unable to fully comprehend the truth of their universe? How many would fear dragons and want to destroy them, like those humans who’d cast the Great Scourge all those years ago? And how many would want to control the dragons and use them for their own evil purposes?

  No, for the sake of Ryan and her friends, she needed to protect their world with the magic she’d been given. No matter how much she despised Regis.

  They reached the arch and Swipe pulled an asru bead stone from his pocket, a mini portable gate anchor. “Use this and gate to the base. We’ll meet you there.”

  Before she could take it, air whooshed around them and Diablo materialized beside her.

  “How about we just skip that part. She’ll meet you at the gala.” Diablo grabbed her arm and the world wrenched around her.

  Air whipped at her face then her feet hit the floor, sending an agony roaring through her body. She staggered, but Diablo’s grip kept her from falling.

  They stood in a dark hall. Only a hint of light bled around the cracks of half a dozen doors evenly spaced on either side of her. Her night-sight kicked in, showing the unfinished cinder block walls, open ceiling, and wires snaking around her.

  “We need to talk,” Diablo said, his voice dark, his grip on her arm tightening.

  Fear froze her gut, but hot rage quickly followed. Had he found out she hadn’t wiped Ryan’s mind like he’d told her? But if he didn’t know, she wasn’t going to tell him. “We never need to talk.”

  “There’s always an exception to the rule.”

  “No, there isn’t.” She wrenched at his grip, but he held tight. Agony roared through her, like the very first time Odyne had touched her, stealing her breath. Mother of All, when would the pain stop?

  “Jesus, Jones.” Diablo’s expression hardened. “Did you give in? Did you tell Odyne about the human?”

  “What about the human?” she growled.

  “That you didn’t wipe his mind? That he’s a mage? Did you tell Odyne?”

  Fury consumed the agony, tainting everything she saw red. Ryan was dead. He had to be. Diablo had killed him. That’s what Diablo did, he was the self-proclaimed death to all human mages.

  She couldn’t breathe past the overwhelming pain and fury. He was dead. Her inamorator was dead. She grabbed Diablo’s throat, wrenched him around, and pounded him into the cinder block wall.

  Air buffeted her. He slipped from her grip, no, vanished. He gated out of her grasp. She whipped around as he materialized behind her on the other side of the hall, not within striking distance.

  She leapt at him. The only thing left for her was to avenge Ryan’s murder. He hadn’t deserved to die. Dragon law and Regis and anyone else who thought differently could rot in hell.

  “Jones.” Diablo raised his hands.

  She swung at his head. He jerked out of the way but didn’t punch back.

  “Would you just listen.” He blocked another punch and scrambled to the side.

  Why wouldn’t the murderer just fight back? It wasn’t fair if they didn’t fight back. Just like killing someone because they might have a magic that could hu
rt you. “Why couldn’t you have just trusted me to deal with it?”

  Diablo snorted. “This is how you deal with it?”

  She swung again. He gated away and reappeared behind her, wrapping a thick arm around her neck.

  “I dealt with it the right way. The fair way.” She wrenched against his hold.

  He tightened his grip. She fought to draw air past his arm, past the knot in her throat, and past Odyne’s agony burning every nerve.

  “You body-shared so he’d understand you. Do you know how dangerous that is? You could have turned him into everything Regis fears.”

  “I did what I had to. He was going to leave. I couldn’t let him leave. I couldn’t—” Mother of All, this was worse than Eric. He was dead and it was all her fault and—

  Wait a minute. “How did you know I body-shared with him? When did you start having conversations with your prey?”

  “If you would just calm down.”

  A burst of agony swept through her. The world darkened, and she gasped.

  “Just breathe through it.” Diablo eased her to the wall so she could lean against it. “Just breathe.”

  “Yeah, how would you know?”

  He cocked a dark eyebrow and somehow she knew he did.

  She drew in a ragged breath. The pain ebbed then billowed again, stealing her air. “How do you know I body-shared?” she asked between clenched teeth.

  “First tell me. Is he your one?”

  “What do you care?” What the hell was Diablo getting at? None of this made sense and she wasn’t sure it would make sense even when Odyne’s magic had finally stopped.

  “I need to know if you know.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, it’s kind of obvious you’ve lost it for this mage. In the hundreds of years we’ve worked together—”

  She snorted. “Oh, yeah, we’ve spent so much time working together.” He always growled something, then gated away, leaving her to do the clean up.

  “Fine. We’re not besties. But this isn’t like you. You follow the rules, keep your head down. There are only a few things that could change that.”

  “And if I find out you’ve killed him—”

  “Relax. Your inamorator is not dead. Confused and barely holding it together, but not dead.”

  Capri breathed out a sigh. Thank God. “I have to get to him, wipe his mind so he doesn’t go crazy.”

  “I’m not sure that’s the best idea.”

  “For the love of—just tell me what the hell is going on. I’ve had a rough twelve or so hours.”

  “Yeah, who blew up your house?”

  “Don’t know, and not the question I asked.”

  “Fine.” Diablo blew out his own breath and ran a hand over his perfect ponytail. “The short of it is that Raven runs a school for natural human mages.”

  “She what?” Capri couldn’t have heard that right. “But how does she find those mages? What does she teach them? In Nero’s house?” Diablo had to be messing with her. Raven taking mages into Nero’s house was not possible. “And why are you telling me this?”

  “Your human is going to need Raven’s help if he isn’t going to go crazy.”

  “But—”

  Diablo raised a finger, silencing her. “Just let me finish answering your first questions before we move on. I send her the mages, children, really. Those humans who’ve naturally connected to the earth’s magic.”

  “A human’s soul isn’t strong enough to make the connection.”

  “So you’ve been told. But the humans who cast the Great Scourge hadn’t body-shared to get their magic. Natural mages are just very rare.”

  Pain swept over Capri and she struggled to stay focused on Diablo. “There’s no way Raven has a house full of mages without Nero knowing.” But if that were true, it would explain the kids Capri had seen there, as well as Grey and Anaea.

  “Nero doesn’t believe in murdering children, either.”

  “But the law?”

  “Nero is the Dugga. He assigns me the mages to hunt and I determine who dies. Innocents don’t die.”

  “And here I thought you were a heartless asshole.”

  Diablo flashed her a lopsided smile. “I still am. But even assholes can have standards. I don’t drown kittens and I don’t murder children. Everything else is fair game.”

  He was not the drake she’d thought he was. Although apparently neither was Nero. And keeping her secret—that she was inamorated to a human mage—also meant keeping their secret.

  “So what now?” she asked.

  “Howard Pimm is responsible for the decapitations and he’s coming here to kill Barna.”

  “And so are Zenobia’s mages. Wow, which god did Barna piss off to make him such a target?”

  “Some drakes are just lucky, I guess. I say we deal with the mages and Pimm and then worry about what next after that.” Diablo shrugged. “Who knows, maybe saving dragon-kind twice in one evening will put you back in Regis’s good graces.”

  “Nothing can do that. Regis doesn’t have anything good about him.” But Diablo was right. If Ryan was holding it together for now, she needed to deal with the immediate threats, then figure out the rest of her life.

  CHAPTER 38

  Howard approached the loading docks of the king demon’s office complex, his heart pounding. This was it. The demons were drawing in on him and he needed to make the world see them, know they existed.

  He just hadn’t expected so many of them to be working the king demon’s gala. Howard would have thought they’d be guests, not servants, but he’d seen a dozen coming and going along with all the other humans. The lesser demons were security guards and caterers and florists and who-knew-what else, and Howard had to pass by them to get inside.

  Sweat slicked his palms, and he gripped the strap of his duffel bag tighter. The FBI demon and her servant hadn’t known he’d been ridding the world of their evil. She would have killed him on his doorstep if she’d known. Which meant none of these demons knew, either. He just had to stay calm and stick with the plan.

  “I’ll protect you,” Lizzie said, a whisper caressing his soul. “This is too important. It must be done.”

  The world had to know.

  “Then we’ll be together again.”

  Yes. With Tyler.

  Light flickered at the edge of Howard’s vision. Lizzie was walking with him. He wouldn’t be able to see her if he looked directly at her—guardian angels couldn’t be seen like demons and no one else could hear her—but he could sense her with him.

  “Not with Tyler,” she said.

  Sickness squeezed Howard’s chest. The demons had possessed him before Howard had realized the truth. But Lizzie had been looking out for him. She’d burned the demon and saved Tyler’s soul. But Tyler wouldn’t be a guardian like Lizzie. His soul hadn’t been strong enough to resist corruption.

  “But yours is,” Lizzie said. “That’s why you were picked for this.”

  And that was why he couldn’t fail.

  He rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the tension clawing across them. He was less than twenty feet from the first demon.

  The woman, directing humans unloading a florist’s van, glanced at him, but her gaze didn’t linger. One of her humans pulled out a large vase and her attention turned fully to him.

  Howard strode past her. His confidence grew with every step. They didn’t know who he was. He moved through the chaos of people and demons swarming the loading docks and slipped past security behind a group of waiters.

  He was doing it. Lizzie protected him. The demons had no idea he was coming and soon the world would know the truth.

  * * *

  Ryan got out of the beat-up truck Grey had borrowed from Raven, as Grey grabbed the sword—also borrowed from Raven—and hid it inside his calf-length winter coat.

  “A sword?” Ryan asked, still fighting the future flash as it tugged at him. The security door banged open… again and again. “Really?�
�

  “More effective than a gun against a drake.”

  Right. Ryan knew that… from Capri’s knowledge.

  Grey shrugged. “Just think of it like Highlander.”

  “Like what?” Now, that was something he didn’t have in his new memories.

  “You know, the movie, with Sean Connery and Christopher Lambert. It’s a classic. Don’t you know anything?”

  “Apparently not.”

  They headed across the parking garage to one of the many lobbies in Barna’s business complex. They were on the opposite side to the gala, but Grey’s plan was to slip in a back entrance and avoid as many drakes as possible.

  The future flash tugged harder at Ryan, and he fought to keep it at the edge of his senses and not let it envelop him. Get to Capri, stop that man… or rather drake—hopefully not with Grey’s sword—and the flash would end.

  It had to end.

  Then Ryan would get his chance to talk to her and make things right.

  Grey opened the door and glanced in. “All clear.”

  Good. The fewer drakes they ran into, the better.

  Inside lay a hall with a pair of elevators, a couple of maintenance doors, and the opening to the lobby. The complex took up an entire city block, a combination of new office towers and restored original buildings. The gala was in the newly renovated section of the old buildings, but that didn’t guarantee the best bet for finding Capri.

  They headed down the hall. Grey stopped at the entrance to a massive lobby. It was filled with people: business people, people dressed for the gala, and everyone in between moved from outside to inside, to shops and offices at the perimeter, or to the vast staircase leading to the upper levels.

  Even on this far side of the complex, there were signs of the gala. The theme was a celebration of fire and ice, and giant spiky sculptures of metal and glass dotted the landscape. Fake fires were made of colored silk over a fan, and flashing red and orange lights “flickered” within the art. Glitter, glass, and metal shimmered, catching the light, in myriad decorations—all of them types of modern art sculptures. They hung from walls, pillars, decorative trees, and even from the glass and steel walkways stretching two-, five-, and ten-stories up, connecting one side of the complex to the other.