by T. G. Ayer
“Mel!” Steph yelled, her eyes rounded as she glared at me.
“Eyes. Road,” I said firmly, hiding my grin for a paltry three seconds. “Sorry, Steph. I couldn’t help it. I mean, seriously, I don’t know anything about the anatomy of vamp-demons. Not certain I’d be able to offer big-sisterly advice you know. Birds and the bees and all....”
“He’s not a vamp-demon. He’s only been bitten by one.”
“So he has some sort of vamp-virus?” I asked, hoping this wasn’t going to get worse the more questions I asked.
“Yeah. I’ve been helping him figure this out. He’s been speaking to a vampire, a kind of mentor guy who knows what Baz needs to work on in terms of strength and knowledge.”
“So who is this guy?”
“Some Special Forces mystery type. Name’s Asher,” Steph said and then slowly turned her head toward me, eyes wide. “No…it can’t be,” she whispered.
I was so shocked I didn’t even remind her to keep her eyes on the road. Thankfully she looked back in time to avoid a head-on with a horse-and-trailer.
I didn’t even blink.
Moments later, I cleared my throat. “Agent Asher is a fracking vampire?” I said the words slowly, attempting to absorb the revelation.
Steph made a choking sound. “Could be why he made us all swoony and drooly.”
“Speak for yourself,” I muttered as I thought over our run-ins with Asher while we were in New Orleans. Then my eyes widened. “Asher works for the FBI,” I said, my tone so shocked it was entirely free of all emotion.
Steph popped her gum. “I’m not sure what to think right now. Why would a vampire work with the government? And how could he even work for them without them knowing who and what he is? And, in the first place, how is there even such a thing as a vampire in the Earth-World. I thought they were like mythical ghost stories or something?”
I snorted. “Er…like feline shifters and gargoyles and djinn?”
Steph grunted in reply. “Touché.”
I shook my head and tried to focus, so much so that I pressed my fingers to my forehead—as though it would help. Who was I kidding? “Yeah, my mind is blown.”
“Don’t blow all those pretty brain cells, tracker. You got to get a few more people on board, save that sexy djinn of yours and then you can go all mush-brain.” Then she paused. “Oh, wait, before you do that, you also need to figure out the mystery of the undead master teleporter and the missing sister. And that’s as Nancy Drew as it can possibly get.”
I shook my head. “Thanks for reminding me, Steph. I was trying really hard to not think about that.”
“Sorry,” Steph replied.
She didn’t sound in the least bit sorry.
Chapter 24
Not too much later, we arrived home, and I settled on the sofa in the study with a cup of chocolate on a tray table beside me. The sweet drink was cloying in my throat, and I was glad when Steph left, claiming an errand; the moment she’d exited the room, I’d set the drink aside and sank against the cushions on the sofa.
I sent a quick message to Nerina—marking it urgent—and then closed my eyes, intending to rest both brain and body for a few moments. When I blinked and opened my eyes again, I found I’d sunk lower on the sofa, my head now at an awkward right angle.
My lids were heavy, but I scrunched my eyes to shove past the pull of fatigue, and found myself looking straight at Nerina who was currently sitting cross-legged on the other side of the sofa, staring at a tablet.
I grunted and swiped at my mouth—praying I hadn’t drooled—then glared at her. “You could have woken me,” I muttered as I straightened, scraping my fingers through my hair.
“And starve you of much-needed rest?” Nerina said, an eyebrow curving as she glared at me. “I’m not sure what’s so urgent, but I will categorically refuse to go out on a mission with you if you are not as close to one hundred percent as we can get you.”
I cleared my throat. “I’m fine. I can manage.”
“I’m not worried about you just managing. We are in this as a team—whatever it is—and we can’t afford the person running point to be the weak link.”
I glared at her, then let out a defeated sigh. “When did you get so smart?”
“Always was. You just never realized it.” She smiled—a tad brighter than usual.
“You look different,” I said peering at her face. “You’re more...colorific. What gives?”
Nerina smiled, her eyes lighting up with excitement. “I’m finally reaching Level Three which means I’m no longer a neutral. I get to reaccess my true nature again.”
I shook my head and narrowed my eyes. “No clue what that all meant.”
Nerina chuckled. “When a DeathTalker receives her powers, she is overwhelmed by the ability and what it requires. The first stage is total immersion within the Graylands which means the Initiate must become one with the In-between, essentially stripping themselves free of their natural elements.”
I nodded. “That explains why you’re all gray? But I thought all DeathTalkers are physically that way.”
“No. The gray is the appearance we assume when performing the communing with the dead. Over the centuries it has become a calmative that the DeathTalker appear as somewhat of a non-entity. I’m told that those left behind find it easier to witness a DeathTalker in the Gray commune with the deceased.”
“So you guys hide your true selves from us because we’re not strong enough to deal with you as real people because you happen to talk to the dead?” I asked, somewhat riled up at the thought.
Nerina chuckled. “Perhaps there is an element of truth in that observation, but it’s only part of the reason. We wear the Gray to respect the Order of the Graylands, to show our obeisance to the voices of the dead. In a sense, we divest ourselves of our own identity in order to fully commune with the departed spirit for both the comfort of the living and the peace of the dead.”
I nodded. “I see. I’ve been to the Graylands, so I admit this does make some sense to me. I guess I just feel people should suck it up. It’s not always about them.”
Nerina tilted her head. “And so what about you?”
“Me?”
“When you project through the Veil, when you travel through the Ether and when you emerge somewhere else after you jump…do you burst into solidity in front of people or do you soften the blow first with a few words of warning, so you don’t startle them and frighten them to death?”
I sighed. “Yeah. It’s easier to deal with a calm person than one who is hysterical and who fights back.” I nodded, giving Nerina a smile. “Sorry. Guess I’m a little out of it.”
“Not really. That’s the initial reaction of most people when I first explain.” Nerina smiled serenely then lifted her eyebrows in question. “So what was so urgent?”
“Right yes, I’m sorry. How long have you been waiting?”
Nerina shrugged. “Forty minutes? Give or take. Gave me time to catch up with my email correspondence.”
I wanted to ask if they were personal or business, suddenly bitten by the curiosity bug where Nerina was concerned. She’d opened a tiny window onto her life and had only created a need to know more. But I’d have to wait to question her. For now, Saleem was our focus.
“So, I’m putting a team together to help me rescue Saleem?”
“Rescue? What happened to him?” Nerina’s expression darkened.
“He went back to Mithras, hoping to check on his brother, just make sure Rizwan was alive and well, but he didn’t return. I was starting to worry and then I ended up dreaming about him. Saleem was sending me a message, though I still have to figure out exactly how that works.”
“He’s in the djinn plane?” asked Nerina.
I nodded. “But he’s trapped there. He’s been captured by whoever has taken over the city and its people. And we need to get him out of there as fast as possible, or I’m afraid they may end up taking their beatings a little too far.” Then I le
t out a groan. “Plus there’s the whole window thing.”
Nerina squinted. “Window thing?”
“Yeah, Saleem’s given us a strict window of entry. No earlier and no later.”
The DeathTalker’s eyes brightened. “That’s a good thing then. Things are falling into place.”
With a dramatic roll of my I eyes, I slumped back. “Not you too….” Then I grinned as Nerina just shook her head at me.
She shifted forward and unfolded her legs. “You know I’m with you. Whatever you need. Just call me, and I’ll come.”
“What about your work? Can you get away? We may be gone for a couple of days…” I trailed off, more aware than ever of the position I was placing all my friends in.
Nerina reached out and gripped my shoulder. “Mel? I can see what you are thinking, and you have to stop. Saleem means a lot to a lot of people. There isn’t much chance of you going it alone. And should you do that—even if you do so in order to protect the team—it will be seen as selfish.”
I nodded slowly. “I hear you. And no, I don’t plan on going alone.” I smiled and only then did she release me.
“Good. I must be going. I’ll clear my schedule, such as it is,” she said, her face darkening as though something troubled her. Then she brightened and smiled. “Just text me if you need me to go over things before we leave. I’ll be ready to go at a moment’s notice.”
With an abbreviated wave, Nerina shimmered away in a cloud of curling gray shadows, leaving me alone in the study. Alone with my thoughts.
In that moment, I really did appreciate that I wasn’t alone in bearing my burdens.
Most of them anyway.
Chapter 25
I headed up to bed, knowing that right now, I really needed to check up on Saleem. I’d been unconscious for a whole day, unavailable longer if I added the time on the mission with Kai.
In my room, I lay on the bed and settled against the pillow. Closing my eyes, I focused on breathing, drawing myself up and out of my physical form, into the astral plane.
I would have been lying if I said I wasn’t worried. In fact, a trill of fear rippled through me as I transitioned through the Veil, fear that I would again be pulled from my journey and thrust into some unknown plane with no hope of escape unless someone helped me out.
And what if this time, there was no Samuel to set me free?
I shook the thought from my mind and focused on moving through the astral plane, focused on Saleem and the ebb and flow of his life force.
It didn’t take me long to reach him, his energy was strong, filled with pain and desperation, and I stilled. I’d been to see him not too long ago, albeit unintentionally, and then he’d appeared in control, filled with passion, still strong.
Unlike the emotions, his aura emanated now.
Saleem was not one to lose hope, or to falter in the face of adversity. He was the go-in-guns-blazing type who would never feel sorry for himself. Desperation was so unlike him that my fear ratcheted to the border of hysteria.
Though a part of my brain had run on that tangent of fear, the rest of my mind remained focused, clutching to control with every fiber of my being. Because to lose control could easily mean that I could lose Saleem.
Taking a slow calming breath, I followed his feedback thread and sank down into the room with him.
At first, I didn’t register the sight that met my eyes. Not really. Not until the sounds and smells filtered through to me. Perhaps it was because I had walked in on an uncontemplatable horror, something I could never have imagined witnessing, least of all having to watch a loved one endure it.
An auburn-haired woman leaned against one of the four posters of the bed, arms folded as she observed with a cool smile. A man, tall and heavyset, hovered over the djinn prince.
Saleem was spread-eagled on what looked like a rack, something straight out of the history books on ancient methods of torture. The only problem was, it appeared that such methods were alive and well. In Mithras, at any rate.
Saleem’s legs were roped tightly around the ankles, then lifted and secured to reveal the bottoms of his feet. What would have once been pale skin was now red and raw and bloody.
I gasped, the sound rocketing through the room, but thankfully I still hovered in the astral plane. Heart racing, I hesitated, desperately wanting to surge forward, to throw his persecutors aside and save him from this horror.
As I made to move to him, I saw Saleem’s lids flicker. And then he whispered, “As agreed. Not before.”
I stopped cold, ice filtering through my veins as the man leaning over Saleem paused and straightened. He looked over his shoulder, suspicion flaring in his eyes, as though he expected to see a stranger standing beside him.
The woman let out a dry laugh. “He’s delirious, and he’s making you jumpy?”
“I suggest you keep your own council, halfling. Your presence was required to complete the meld. Your opinions you may keep to yourself.” The taller man leaned forward again, and placed his hands at Saleem’s temples. For the second time since I’d arrived, I had to suppress a gasp.
I was definitely losing my touch if everything made me jump.
But I could be excused, considering I recognized what this man was. A MindMelder like Darcy.
Shit.
They were messing with Saleem’s mind, which was just about the worst news I’d received, probably bad enough to rival having found out he’d been trapped here in the first place.
I blinked hard and focused, drifting around the man to stand closer to Saleem. Somehow, I had to find out more about what they intended to do to Saleem, but I didn’t believe for a second that it was going to be that easy.
Saleem let out a scream, a low keening cry that brought tears to my eyes, that twisted my gut with pain, enough that I felt the need to double over and suck in a deep breath. Instead, I shifted to Saleem’s back, drawing as close as was safe, hoping he’d know I was there with him.
Saleem stiffened as I brushed my fingers against his arm. He didn’t react, other than the one movement, and for a moment, I wondered if I were going to have to come up with another plan.
Then Saleem let out a harsh laugh, “I hope you know you’re wasting your time.”
“That’s what you think, your highness,” the woman said, her voice deep and husky, almost seductive. “You don’t know how talented Ward is. He can wipe your memories and replace them with something else entirely, and you’d never even know it.”
“Shut up, you idiot. It would be wise not to tell him who we are.”
The woman snorted, then studied her fingernails which were painted a shocking neon green. “Not like he’s going to remember.”
Ward didn’t reply. Was he possibly unsure that they were going to succeed in wiping Saleem’s mind clean?
Ward leaned over Saleem again, fingers drifting along Saleem’s temples the way a lover would.
A new voice rang out within the room. “What we would prefer is for him to remember. I’d prefer him compliant as opposed to being an automaton.”
The woman scowled. “An auto-what-now?”
I barely registered the words as I studied the newcomer. I’d seen his face before. The man in charge of Saleem’s torture and mental abuse, was none other than Barnes, or rather Agent Jones of Division 7.
I wasn’t entirely sure I was surprised. Nothing was as it seemed in our lives, and as I hovered in the astral plane, I wondered what would happen next that would be capable of surprising me. I wasn’t sure there was anything left.
Jones stood straight-backed as he watched over Ward, who remained focused on Saleem, a dark scowl of concentration marring his features. I was tempted to mess with them, but I knew that alerting them to my presence would only endanger Saleem further, and likely make it more difficult for me to return with the team.
I shifted closer to Saleem and reached for his fingers, allowing my fingers to partially solidify, entwining them with Saleem’s. He let out a sigh and sque
ezed back, then abruptly let go.
I drifted away, reluctant to leave, yet knowing I had to go.
Time was running short and not only was Saleem’s life in danger, but so was his mind, his memories of his past, of me and of Logan and Kai. And of his mother.
Heart heavy, I returned to the astral plane and transitioned back into my body. It was time I paid a visit to a queen.
Chapter 26
I rested only a few minutes before I headed off to visit Saleem’s mother, the trip to her prison having become so familiar that I arrived faster than usual and was grateful for the low-stress transition.
“To what do I owe the honor of this visit?” asked Queen Aisha, a strange edge to her tone as she spoke using her astral voice. She sat in front of a large easel, a paintbrush held within slim fingers, the bristles heavy with a deep ochre, as she paused.
I rolled my eyes as I hovered within the room, remaining on the astral plane where the djinn queen was quite able to see me. “Sorry, it’s been a while. Things have been a little crazy in the outside world.”
“I’d say pull up a chair and give me the details but…well…hover and give me the details.” Aisha remained facing her painting, a landscape in blues and reds, depicting a mountain range of shimmering black stone.
I lifted a brow, keenly aware that she’d actually expressed an interest in my life. But I shook my head. “That’s all a bit irrelevant. I just spoke to Saleem, and things are not looking good for him.”
Aisha took a deep breath and dabbed the brush on a palette set on a small table beside her. “What’s that supposed to mean, child,” she asked as she drew the brush in short fluid strokes, quickly forming a short line of trees. “I will need you to be a little more specific.”
“Your son. He went back to Mithras.”
She didn’t even blink at my revelation. “That’s a good thing I believe.” More trees formed at the tip of her brush, soon covered with leaves of deep copper and gold.
