“I hate reports,” I said to the empty bar. Pinky, Anya, and Jarrett were still asleep upstairs, River was in her garden on the roof, and I sat at a table in the corner doing status reports. Not that I had anything to report.
It had been six days since Ian and I had decided there must be a religious angle to Bokor’s motives. In those six days, we had scoured the entire city, searching every building or piece of property that had once held a church or religious school, even if the original building was no longer standing. So far, we had come up empty handed. It had been slow going, though. Two days into the search, the senate approved the complete removal of all City Guard personal from the case, with the exception of Rangel, who was still supposed to be working as a Guard representative. But, the next day Rangel called in sick, and he hadn’t been back to work since.
That left Ian and me, with a handful of Blades, to canvas the entire city. But, two days ago, Sam had been forced to pull those Blades back to their own cases. We hadn’t had a new lead in almost a week, and the ones we had prior to that were weak, at best. It was all going down the drain fast. Sam had mentioned letting the case go cold and reassigning me, but I threw a fit. Farah Purcell was still out there. After forty-eight hours, the chance of finding a missing person alive went from slim to almost zero, so I knew it would be a fucking miracle if she were still alive, but I just couldn’t give up. Not yet.
I agreed to an afternoon off, though. Well, agreed really meant that Sam and Ian were insisting and I was too tired and burned out to fight with them. So, instead of the two of us traipsing through abandoned buildings, Ian was at his office working on his lesson plans for the start of the semester at the Academy, and I was sitting here, writing status reports on every location we had searched over the past few days.
I had tried to do my paperwork at my desk at the Blade Headquarters, but Sam chased me out, saying something about taking the day off meant not doing work, even paperwork. So, I took my stack of reports and came to the pub. At least here it was quiet and I had unlimited ale. It had the added benefit that everyone would be up soon and I could spend the evening with my family. That, more than a day off, was long overdue.
This was the first time I had been home longer than the time it took me to grab clothes and necessities. I’d spent the last six days working side by side with Ian, and the nights at his apartment and in his bed. We had spent hours talking and getting to know each other on a level that I’d never had with anyone outside of my family, not even Jarrett. And when we weren’t talking, we were making love. I had never spent so many nights in a row with the same man. I couldn’t believe I still craved him. Even now, just the thought of his touch made my whole body erupt into flames.
During the few hours we’d spent apart over the past week, he’d been constantly on my mind. I wasn’t sure what was happening, not for certain, but I thought I might know. I thought I might be falling in love with Ian Barroes. The idea filled me with both a sense of awe and bone-chilling terror.
A rapid tap, tap, tap on the pub’s front window drew my attention, pulling me out of my thoughts. I looked up and saw Rangel, backlit by the orange-gold setting sun, leaning close, his face almost pressed against the glass, waving to get my attention. I glanced at the cuckoo clock above the bar and saw it was almost time for Pinky and Anya to come down and start preparing for the evening’s business. I said the combination spell, a series of nonsense words Pinky had made up, that released the intruder alarm and sound-deafening spells on the downstairs of the building, and motioned for Rangel to come in.
“I’m glad to see you are feeling better,” I said, gathering up my paperwork and shoving it in a leather satchel as he walked across the room and came to sit with me.
“Thanks,” he said, his voice scratchy.
Crystal-lamp sconces lined the walls of the pub and when they were all lit, they cast the room with a soft bluish light that gave the perfect dim atmosphere to the bar. But, when I came in earlier, it had been full daylight and I only activated two of the lamps directly over the table I was sitting at. Now, with the early evening glow outside fading fast, it was much dimmer in the pub than normal. It wasn’t until Rangel slid into the booth across from me, his face coming into the full light of the crystal lamps that I realized how pale he was. Well, that was to be expected.
But, no, he wasn’t pale. His skin had a sickly grayish tinge. Perhaps he was still sick. Or maybe it was just a trick of the lighting. After all, the crystal lamps gave everything a slightly bluish tone. Yet, deep in my stomach, something cold and slimy began to crawl.
I clutched the satchel and began to slide out of the booth. “I’m going to put this away and grab some more ale. How ’bout I bring you a whiskey with a little honey mixed in? Sounds like you’re still feeling shitty. That should knock the last of it out of you,” I said, trying to keep my tone steady. No need to tip him off to my growing panic. After all, why was I panicking? To be honest, I wasn’t completely sure, but something felt wrong.
“That sounds great,” he said in that croaky-not-quite-right voice. Then he looked up at me, a broad smile plastered across his face, and I had the undeniable evidence staring right at me. His eyes, Marcus Rangel’s beautiful blue eyes, the ones that always had a twinkle in them and had been what attracted me to him, were clouded and vacant. My friend and ex-lover no longer lived behind those eyes.
I forced myself to smile and do the one thing I was trained never to do, turn my back on the enemy, clutching the leather satchel tight in front of me to hide the fact that my hands, along with my entire body, were shaking. Waves of sorrow, rage, and fear washed over me. The man, the monster, we had been hunting, had hunted us back and killed my friend. I had no doubt, after what I had seen in the alley the week before, that Rangel was as good as dead. That thing sitting at the corner table wasn’t my friend—it was a dangerous predator. And it was in my home, with my family.
My mind raced as I walked at a normal pace, which seemed slow and torturous to the bar. My hanbo, which I usually carried in a sling across my back when I was on duty, was hanging on a hook in the back room. I glanced at the shelves behind the bar. Damn, a jar of honey was sitting in plain view, so I couldn’t use that as an excuse. I tossed the satchel on the bar, nonchalantly, and moved in behind it, chattering inane nonsense about the weather and how we’d missed him while he’d been sick. Anything to keep him distracted.
I bent down, supposedly looking for a glass, but easily finding my real target. Pinky didn’t have anything wooden that resembled a staff downstairs, but he did keep a sword under the bar. It wouldn’t work as a means to focus my magical energy, and I wasn’t as skilled in combat with a heavy sword as I was with my short staff, but it was what I had on hand and it would have to do. I tried to push the fact that I was about to rush at one of my friends, my one-time lover, with a sword with the intention of running him through, out of my mind.
I was about to rise when something brown caught my eye. I reached in, back behind the glasses, and pulled out a long, round piece of wood. A memory flashed through my mind. Pinky had said a chair back had broken and he needed to fix it, but he’d forgotten where he’d put the broken spindle. I’d just found it. I tossed it up a little, testing its weight. It wasn’t long or sturdy enough to use as a hand-to-hand combat weapon, but maybe, just maybe, it would be useful in another way. I looked at the splintered end, it looked like oak, and I thought most of the chairs in the bar were made of the same.
Rising up, I used one hand to put a glass on the bar, the other to grasp the spindle. I started to open my senses, and then remembered the last two times I’d done that near Bokor. I didn’t want to get hit with nausea just now, so using the slightest bit of power, I opened my senses. Nothing happened. I pulled in more energy, and I was fine. Bokor, in Rangel’s body, was at least fifteen feet away. Perhaps proximity had something to do with the energy void he caused. I pushed a tiny bit of energy through the spindle, testing it out. A glass flew off the she
lf and hit the floor, shattering.
Bokor looked up, and I shrugged. “I’m such a klutz. Pinky will have my hide for that.”
I took in more and more energy until I had a reserve built up, then quickly pulled the spindle from under the bar, aimed, and released the energy surging through me. A white lightning bolt of energy burst out of the end and blew the wooden booth bench into a million tiny, flying splinters. But Bokor wasn’t there. One second he was sitting there, and then, just before the stream of energy hit him, he was gone. “Where…?”
My words were cut off when a strong arm closed around my throat, squeezing tightly. “Wow, what a rush.” The course, gravely abomination of Rangel’s voice sounded in my ear. “It is rare that I find an avatar whose power and body are strong enough for me to use that power once I have become one with them and entered their body. Even more rare to have an avatar with such a fun and useful ability.”
I coughed, my hands grasping at his arm, trying to lessen the pressure on my airway. “What do you mean… ‘become one’?” The possibilities made bile rise up in my throat.
“Oh, you’ll see soon enough, my sweet Fiona,” he crooned in my ear. “Now, come quietly and none of your family will get hurt.”
“Bullshit,” I gasped. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
I held tightly to his arm with both hands and, using my own weight as leverage, threw myself forward so that he flew over my back, across the bar, and into a barstool. Coughing and gasping for air, I grabbed the sword from under the bar, but by the time I was in front of him, he’d pulled one of the broken bar stools legs off and held it out in an en-garde position.
Damn, Pinky was going to be pissed. First the glass, then the bench, and now a stool.
Bokor laughed; it sounded obscene and wrong. “What are you going to do, my sweet girl? Will you cut your friend’s heart out? Are you willing to kill your lover to protect your family?”
What? How the fuck did he know that?
“Oh, don’t look so surprised, my sweet, luscious Fiona. When I consume a person’s energy, they merge with me. Their thoughts, their memories, all of their emotions and knowledge become a part of me. It’s a beautiful and spiritual thing.”
My hands tightened on the sword. “You aren’t Rangel. You’ve already killed him. I’ll gladly run a sword through that body’s heart if it means killing you.”
He laughed again. “Oh, my dear, you are feisty. No need to bloody that pretty sword. No matter what you do, this body will continue to live until I withdraw from it. And nothing you do to this body will harm me in any way.”
Rage filled me and before I knew what I was doing, I swung the sword. He countered with the stool leg and for several minutes we sparred, neither of us making any real connections or hits. Then, as I drew back for another swipe, he grabbed the stool leg in both hands and swung it like a bat, catching me on the side of the head, knocking me backward.
Pain erupted in my head, and then my back as I fell onto a table, which promptly crumpled to the floor, knocking the breath out of me. As if from far away, I heard my name being screamed, and then two large blurs flew from the top of the second-floor stairs, landing on Bokor, taking him to the ground with them.
I scrambled to my feet, shaking my head and rubbing my eyes to clear them. Pinky and Jarrett rose, dragging Bokor up between them. “I’m guessing this isn’t our friend anymore,” Jarrett said sadly.
“No,” was my only reply. To Bokor, I said, “What do you want?”
His leer made my blood run icy. “I told you, my sweet Fiona. I want you. Come with me now and no harm will come to your family.”
Pinky growled and yanked harder on the arm he had twisted behind Bokor’s back. “You are in no position to bargain or make threats.”
“You have no idea what kind of position I am in, Vampire. And, please do keep wrenching that arm. It hurts me so much.” That hateful, obscene laughter erupted again.
I lurched forward, pushing the point of the sword against his throat. “Shut up, you asshole. We may not be able to hurt you right now, but I can cut out his vocal chords so you can’t speak.”
“Oh, my sweet, how quick you are to mutilate the body of someone who loved you. Did you know he could have used his teleportation abilities several different times to escape me, but he stayed to fight because he thought it would make you love him if he captured me and saved the pretty little girls.”
My skin went hot. No, don’t listen to him. “Rangel did love me, as a dear friend. He stayed and fought because he was a brave and honorable person. You cannot sully that. You might as well as leave his body because I don’t care if I have to chop it into pieces, you are not getting it.”
“Fine, fine. I will go. But I should give you one last chance to walk out of here with me. It will save you a lot of pain and trouble.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” I hissed.
“Oh, my sweet, Fiona.” His tone was chiding. “You will. You have no idea of my power. You cannot escape me. I will take you, by force if necessary. But, I think you might come to me quite willingly to get back what you have lost.”
“What the hell are you talking about? I haven’t lost anything.”
“Well, I suppose the proper wording would be what I’ve taken. But trust me; something you would like to protect isn’t where you think it is. And once you realize it, you will come looking for her.”
Her? My sisters’ faces immediately flashed into my mind. But, Anya and River were safe upstairs, weren’t they? Panic exploded in my stomach.
“Who do you have?” I screamed, but that eerie laugh echoed through the pub as every sign of life left Rangel, leaving Pinky and Jarrett holding on to a dry corpse.
Pinky and Jarrett lowered Rangel’s body gently to the floor, and I fell to my knees, sobbing. Pinky came to rest next to me, his arm around me. I looked up at him, tears in my eyes.
“Pinky, he kept saying ‘it’, but then at the last he said ‘her’… Anya? Or, River?” I barely had my sisters’ names out of my mouth before Pinky was up the stairs and out of sight, using his vampire speed. I looked at Jarrett. “We need to call Sam and Ian.”
“I’m on it,” he said, pulling a porta-scry case from his pocket.
A few moments later, Pinky descended the stairs flanked by both of my sisters. I ran to them, holding them tight. They were safe. I had no idea who Bokor had taken, but my sisters were here and they were safe and right then, that was all that could matter.
Several minutes later, I was sitting on the stairs, flanked by my sisters, their arms around me, when I heard my name being called. I looked up to see Ian coming through the pub door. I shook my sisters off and ran across the room, flinging myself into his arms. “You are safe,” I said to him, in a sob.
“Hey, hey. Isn’t that what I’m supposed to say to you?” Ian said, gently, brushing strands of hair away from my damp face. “What happened?”
Before I could answer, Sam and two Blade Agents came barreling into the bar. Pinky pulled two tables together, pushing the wreckage of the other one out of the way. We all sat, and I told everyone what happened.
“Okay, you two,” Sam said, nodding at the Blades. “Get a cart in here to get the body over to the morgue and call in the forensic mages. I doubt they will find anything they didn’t on the other bodies, but we will try everything we can. Ian and I will head over to Rangel’s place and see what we can find out.”
“I’m going with you,” I said.
“No!” Four male and two female voices rang out in unison. The only two that remained silent were the two Blade Agents that I was unfamiliar with.
“Bullshit!” I spat. I expected such treatment out of Pinky, Ian, and even Sam. All three of them tended to treat me like a delicate flower when they thought they could get away with it. But Jarrett and my sisters? They were always on my side. “I’ll be damned if I’m going to stay here with my thumb up my ass while the ‘boys’ handle it!”
?
??Agent Moon.” Sam’s voice was hard. He never, ever, called me Agent Moon. Not even when he was super pissed at me. Intellectually, I knew he wasn’t angry with me; he was worried. But that didn’t stop the tiny shiver of fear and sorrow that went through me. “You were a target tonight. As was your family. You will remain here in a defensible environment and guard them. That is an order. Are we clear?”
Well crap! I hated it when he pulled rank, even if he was right. “Yes, sir.” I nearly choked on the words.
“Jarrett, you’ve been guarding them this long, I’d like you to stay,” he said, back to his normal tone.
“No problem,” Jarrett said.
“And feel free to knock her out if you have to,” he said, pointing at me. “I don’t want her leaving this building until we are back.”
Pinky answered Sam. “Don’t worry, she won’t leave.” He gave me a pointed glare.
I looked at Ian. Though I got a look of sympathy, he agreed with the other three. “I know you are big, bad, and can take care of yourself. But this guy is a lunatic. You are a target. Besides, Sam is right. Your skills are best served here, protecting your sisters.”
“Fine,” I relented. I walked over to him and leaned in to whisper in his ear. “Please be careful; I can’t lose you.” I blinked back the sting of forming tears. The thought of having to watch him die like Rangel hurt so bad it nearly took my breath away.
And then, not giving a crap that we had an audience, and ignoring the giggles and snickers, I pulled him to me and kissed him hard and thoroughly.