by Kim Faulks
“Me?” He didn’t believe me about finding the drug. Didn’t believe a damn thing I said. “I told you…I found it.”
Dark eyes glinted as he lowered his mug to the counter. “And I believe you, but the shit has to come from somewhere. We start low, start local. Find the buy, track the dealer all the way to the top. I’ve been given some intel…this guy. I want to know all about him, where he lives, where he frequents. Everything.”
He leaned, grabbed a police file from the counter and flipped it open. The sketch was good, capturing many fine points…of a demon. “A demon…you want me to track a demon?”
One nod of his head was all I needed. “I want this sonofabitch, Lorn.”
Something wasn’t right. A tightening of my gut spoke volumes. I stared at the sketch and tried to think. Demon, Sigil. It wasn’t really their MO. They liked depravity, the more the merrier, and a drug like Sigil…it just wasn’t enough.
Now vamps, or witches, that was another matter altogether. They liked the dance between realms, liked the rush of going where no human has gone before.
“A demon, you’re sure about this?”
Titus nodded, drained the last of his coffee, and turned toward the sink. I needed a minute, just a damn minute to think. “The bathroom…”
He glanced toward the hall. “On the left two doors down.”
I left the sketch and the coffee behind and headed for the hall. The bathroom was neat and clean. One clean towel hung perfectly in the middle of the towel rail, and a washcloth sat folded next to it. It looked too neat, too perfect.
I used the toilet and flushed it. Come on, Lorn. You can do this. I stepped to the sink and lifted my gaze. Haunted eyes stared back at me. I turned my head, a bruise…on my damn cheek. I lifted my hand and probed the bone. Ouch. The damn thing smarted. Great. I smoothed my hair and plucked bits of grass from between the red strands.
Gold glinted in the corner of my eye. I dropped my gaze, finding the band on the corner of the shelf, a wedding band. I picked it up and slid it over my finger. It was big…huge, even. My finger swam, hitting one side and then the other.
I glanced toward the door. It was Titus' wedding ring. The same ring I saw in my vision last night and, the more I thought about it, the more that feeling in my core took hold. Titus was playing me, and I needed to find out why.
I placed the ring back on the shelf, washed and dried my hands, and made for the door.
He didn’t meet my gaze now, stealing a glance at my hands before turning back to the folder in front of him. “So, I think we need to make a list of known dealers…of the supernatural kind. I’ve got a printout from our end, but, of course, you’d have a more extensive—”
“Now, hold up a minute,” I muttered. “Let’s set some things straight. I don’t work for you, you don’t pay my bills, you don’t put food in my belly…and, as much as I’d love to play cops and drug dealers with you all day, I’ve got a case. That takes priority. Period.”
His brows narrowed, jaw flexed. Not playing by his rules set him on edge. I had no plans on playing on that, but it was just one more thing that made this whole thing not feel right.
“Director Horton…” he started.
He had to do it…had had to go and play that damn card. “Can suck my balls. See, there’s one little thing you need to know about Horton and me, we don’t see eye to eye, and, by that, I mean I’d love to shoot him in the head with a silver bullet…and that’s on a good day. So I wouldn’t hold that over my head, if I were you. You might find that this dog likes to bite the hand that fucking feeds her.”
“You really are a bitch, aren’t you?” he murmured and shook his head.
“Yep, to the fucking core. My hobbies also include having no time for bullshit.” I glanced toward the door, “Not that this hasn’t been a blast.”
“Wait a minute…I said wait a damn minute…”
I didn’t want to wait, or slow, even when the thunder of his boots filled the space. Cruel fingers gripped my arm as I reached the door. He spun me around, and slammed his hand against the door, blocking my exit. “I said, just give me a damn minute here.”
I saw him then, saw him as though it were the first time. I'd thought he looked bad last night, but this morning he looked even worse. His shirt was crumpled and stained. There were dark circles under his eyes, even darker than the night before.
But what really rocked me was the desperation coiled inside him like a snake ready to strike. The putrid taste of bitter lemons filled my mouth. He was on the edge, Jekyll and Hyding that shit like a pro. “What’s going on with you, Titus? What aren’t you telling me?”
His lips parted, but nothing spilled out, not at first. “The drug…”
“The drug, the case. I get it, I really do. But you gotta work with me a little here. You gotta give me something. My case comes first.”
His shoulders dropped, as he nodded. “Okay, your case first. We get that done and you’re mine.”
I swallowed hard at those words. “We? Oh, hell no. You don’t want to come with me on this one. This is not for human consumption.”
He dropped his hand and took a step backwards. “That’s the deal. Your case and then mine. You can either take me along for the ride, or I can tail your ass all over the city.”
A nerve twitched in the corner of my eye. I didn’t work with others. Redemption found that out the hard way…and here was a damn human forcing me to be nice once more. “You know you really are a bitch,” I murmured.
And this time it was Titus’s turned to smile. “To the fucking core.”
Chapter Five
I stared at the red tag on the folder and then looked to the street. A shifter…a rogue one, at that. It was going to be messy…fur and blood and shit. These ones always were. “You ready for this?”
Titus moved on the seat beside me, pulled his Sig from his shoulder holster for the third time and checked the round chamber. “I’m ready, you just tell me where you want me.”
“You know that won’t even scratch an itch, right? I mean, it’s pretty and all.”
I caught the muscles of this throat working as he swallowed. He nodded and licked his lips. “Yeah, I knew that. Yeah…”
I had to give the man credit. He was trying, paddling his little human legs in this sea of a supernatural world. But there were sharks in these waters—and they were fucking hungry.
He looked at his gun, and then at a smudge of dirt across the front of his trousers. “Should’ve taken a shower. They’ll smell me for miles.”
I reached for the door handle and threw the folder onto the back seat. “I wouldn’t bother. I’ve realized there are two types of jobs in my line. One that you shower before…and one you shower after,” I met his gaze. “And this is one of those you shower after.”
His face paled into a perfect tone of baby-puke white. “So, what’s this job? You never said.”
Now he was starting to worry. Now he was starting to be smart. “A shifter gone rogue. Bitten three humans, the First Touch Coven are doing their best. Looks like one won’t make it….a girl, seventeen.”
“Jesus, she’s going to die?”
I stilled halfway out of the damn car and turned to him. How in the hell can someone work the damn streets and not understand us at all? “No, she’s not going to die. She’s going to shift…come the next full moon.”
“Oh,” he muttered and shoved the door closed. “Shift, okay. Right.”
I leaned on the roof. “You understand how the laws work, right? Wolves aren’t allowed to bite humans. Vampires have to apply to The Circle to turn a human, and witches are only allowed to spell certain elements of a human’s life.”
“Yeah, sure,” his mouth moved, but there was absolutely zero fucking conviction.
This was going to be one long-ass day. “You get yourself bitten, spelled, or shot on my watch, Inspector, and I’m going to be pissed as hell.”
He mumbled something, and then shook his head.
/> “What?” I threw my hand in the air. “What did you say?”
“Nothing,” he replied. “Not a damn thing.”
A howl cut through the trees, long and mournful, sending a spear of desperation through me. They were hunting in there, running, playing, being who they were born to be. “You ever been here before?”
“Once,” the word was a whisper.
I lifted my gaze to the fear in his eyes and then turned to the towering trees that consumed the middle of the city. Harbor was more for the supernatural than it was for the humans. Everyone knew it, banners were splashed with the words across every supernatural protest.
If Harbor was a safe haven for every creature that walked the night, then Ruba was the heartbeat.
Trees towered from the center, reaching up with spindled fingers toward the sky. We were surrounded by silver and glass; skyscrapers and roads that closed around us like a fist, and yet, one step inside Ruba’s treeline, and it all melted away.
Spelled by the green witches that lived amongst the towering pine and ash trees, this place was a tiny micro-world. You’d find all kinds of creatures here, hedge witches, fae, ghouls, but, most of all, you’d find the shifters.
This place was created for the creatures of the night, bigger than twenty city blocks, it was a damn nightmare to navigate if you didn’t know where you were going.
“I’ll protect you.” I hated saying the words, men with all their damn hang-ups and all. “I mean, just stick close to me and you should be good.”
He winced with the words, and then nodded.
“First thing, though, don’t shoot anyone. I mean, you’ll only piss them off, so, if anyone asks, just say you’re working for The Circle.”
“Working for The Circle, okay, got it.”
He locked the car, straightened his holster and waited for me to make the first move. Ruba’s towering gates waited, cracked open, as though to say not all who enter are welcome. And that was the truth.
Gravel crunched under my boots as I made for the gates, and I was taken back to the first time I came here. I was five, I think, shitting-myself scared. But Alma never flinched, only walked straight up to the cracked gate and placed her hand on the metal.
The spell guarding Ruba hummed with recognition. She was a born witch, made powerful by the many years she'd honed her craft. She was seen as an elder, a powerful shaman, and one who walked between worlds.
Until me; I didn’t take after her in the slightest.
I reached out for the metal and felt the hum all the way into my bones. An ache flared through my third eye and speared all the way down my spine.
The ground pulsed. The air throbbed…I tried to wrench my hand away, tried to sever the connection with this place. But I couldn’t move.
Power held me, clamping flesh to metal, syphoning something I held inside, and darkness surged, spilling and overflowing like a sink brimming with water, until a boom cracked through the air, throwing me free.
“Jesus….Jesus…did you feel that?” Titus roared, hands clamped over his ears.
I stumbled, sucked in a breath. This wasn’t right…shouldn’t happen. Not like that. My palm throbbed, stinging like voltage gnawed into nerve and bone. I lifted my hand and stared at the scratches.
“Let’s go.” I clenched my fist and shoved the gate aside.
Metal howled, tearing through the air. I winced at the sound and looked to the dark. Stay in the light, Lorn…promise me. Gabriel’s warning resounded like a damn drum. Staying in the light didn’t solve cases. Staying in the light didn’t do a damn thing but make me feel weak and helpless. And those two things I didn’t do very well at all.
The cobblestone path led through the large bank of trees and seemed to melt into the shadows. I turned, glanced over my shoulder, and kept on moving.
Titus was quiet. Too damn quiet. Heavy steps behind were the only sound that he’d not turned tail and run. The snap of a twig echoed to my right. Still I kept on moving, heading deeper into the forest. Shadows bent and swirled, molding shape after shape. If the wolf was rogue, he’d be here somewhere, hiding on his own, or being hidden by a pack. That was the thing to watch out for, one wolf on his own was bad enough. Twenty was a damn nightmare.
A dangerous snarl echoed from my left, a warning snarl. I kept moving, stepping around a fallen tree, and felt the snare of a spell.
“Just keep moving,” I whispered. “Don’t pay them any mind at all.”
“I’m working for The Circle,” Titus murmured behind me. “I’m working for The Circle.”
The sharp tones of a violin cut through the gloom. Green witches singing to the trees. A breeze whipped up, lukewarm air filled my lungs, bringing with it the scent of rocky moss and dangerous things.
I headed for the sound, moving slowly enough to keep Titus at my back.
“Can’t see a damn thing,” he muttered and slipped against the silky leaves rotting on the ground.
I held out my hand, and let that power inside me breathe, and faint trails of light spilled from between the leaves overhead. It was the middle of the day, and yet down here it was perpetual night.
Tendrils of sunshine spooled together like a shining ball of yarn; I balanced the light and let it go. The illumination hovered behind me. “Better?”
“Yeah…thanks.”
It was the first magic I’d done in front of him, and, of all the things I could do, this was the best icebreaker.
“So you can manipulate light?”
I glanced around, taking a second before answering. “Yeah.”
“What else can you do? Glamor? Make yourself into something else?”
I swallowed a bark of laugher, and it came out like a mmfffpt. “No, I can’t create glamor. Nothing like that.”
“But you’re a witch, right?”
What’s with the twenty-fucking questions? “Yeah, something like that.”
“So are you a day walker, or a night walker?”
I stilled, wrenched my gaze over my shoulder. “Man, you aren’t shy, are you? Don’t you know there are things you just don’t ask a witch, and that’s one of them.”
He shook his head. He really had no idea. “Sorry, just trying to make conversation.”
I had to remind myself he wasn’t built for the streets, he was the clean-up crew, the clean-shaven, perfectly groomed face on the six o’clock news talking about how crime rate in the city has declined and the Harbor Metropolitan Police Force is doing everything in their power to ensure the residents of the city are safe; supernatural and human alike.
He wasn’t made for the grit and the grime. He wasn’t made for the cold dark embrace of Ruba’s pulse. “Okay, here’s the low down. Witches don’t like discussing their craft, or which side of the light they walk on. They’re secretive creatures, they’ll talk amongst themselves, share spells and sigils, but it’s very rare for a witch to discuss the makings with anyone outside their coven… and all humans are outside their coven, comprende?”
“Okay, no asking about the spells.”
“You’re lucky that I don’t mind. I mean, I don’t really fit into either day or night walkers. And that,” I nodded to the hovering ball of light “is probably the nicest thing I can do. The rest…well, let’s just say you never want to see the rest.”
I caught the lonely howl, it was deep, too deep for a coyote, too rough for a wolf. It sounded like a man screaming, like a man in pain, soul-tearing pain, heart-breaking pain.
“That’s what you sounded like,” Titus murmured behind me. “When you thought you were on fire, when you screamed. You screamed like that.”
My hand ached, a hard-throbbing ache. I tried to swallow, tried to speak, but the darkness was swirling inside, calling something through the thick, humid air. Don’t do this…don’t lose your shit, not here, not now.
“Lorn? You okay?”
His deep voice was an anchor, weighing me down to this moment. Shadows danced and moved, surrounding us on all sides. “Do not m
ove,” I whispered and took a step forward, “whatever you do.”
“You aren’t wanted here,” came a voice at my right.
The hulking outline of a shifter was birthed from between the giant palms. He moved forward, shoulders curled, hands hanging at his sides, as though his natural state was more wolf than human.
“We’re working for The Circle,” I met his stare, moving with him as he glanced to Titus.
Right here, buddy. He gave the Inspector one quick glance and then focused on me. Others moved in around him. A pack of…ten…twelve, maybe. I drew in the scent of wet dog and felt the old hatred rise. It was on a day like this Alma faced off with another hound…one that would take everything she’d worked for and turn it into a goddamn farce.
“The law has been broken,” I growled. “Three humans have been bitten.”
“And you want to what? Put Jeremy down like a damn dog?”
They closed in, forming tighter. Power tingled along my arms and the nape of my neck. I didn’t have to turn my head to know what else stood in the dark. “Neon, you going to just stand in the dark?”
A tiny spark of light cut through the dark like a minute shooting star, and, as the light carried through the space, it grew, consuming the dark until the luminescent glow filled the space.
“We don’t want any trouble, Lorn,” she whispered, and stepped from behind me.
This wasn’t right. This wasn’t them. I’ve never felt like an outsider with them before, so why now? I met the white witch’s perfect gaze. She was half fae, and half human, forced to walk the mortal realms after being left to die by her mother. I’d known her for as long as I could breathe, and she knew me. “Want to tell me what’s going on here?”
She searched my gaze and took a step further. “Yes, I would. But I can’t.”
“Can’t, or won’t?”
There was a twinge at the corner of her mouth. “Is there a difference?”
The ground seemed to sigh under her steps, and that buzzing grew at the back of my head.
