Demon Crossings (11 page)

She thought about Hallie. That dark cold place where the faint light was tinged blue as if it came through ice. Smooth black surfaces. Shiny volcanic rock that sliced into your skin. Grace had been young and scared like that once, and no one had ever come to save her. She reached out instinctively to soothe that pain then sucked in a sharp breath when, briefly, something touched her back.

Blinking back tears, she lifted her chin to meet Aiden’s assessing gaze. “I’m going.”

Aiden resisted the urge to wrap his arms around Grace and weep into her hair. God, Hallie was alive. He was still half afraid this woman wasn’t telling him the truth. But she was, he could catch that much from her—her honesty and her fear. She was hiding a lot of things, mostly pieces of herself, but he thought she was also trying to soften the horror of Hallie’s situation. Funny, he didn’t know how to tell her that was unnecessary. He fully understood the dangers of Asgard. He’d been to the other side searching for his daughter and knew exactly what it was like there.

It was why everyone else had long ago decided Hallie was dead and urged him to do the same. All this time…another shock of pain sliced through him. If he’d had the smallest sign that she was still alive, he would never have come back without her. But in the deepest darkest parts of himself, he’d believed Hallie was dead just like everyone else. A slender abiding hope kept him crossing over to continue the search, but cold hard reason brought him back every time.

And now to find out that all this time Hallie
had
actually been alive and he’d failed her. He didn’t know how…when he saw her again, God—he couldn’t think past it. But he needed to keep his focus and do this right. He couldn’t afford to make any mistakes now. The guilt was eating him up, that familiar black anger gnawing at his gut. He wanted to let that rage fill him up, take Grace and cross over today, slaughter every demon that stood in their way.

But that wouldn’t serve Hallie. He needed to bring her back alive and to do that he needed to stay in control. They needed a plan. Needed to wait at least until the new moon so that the weaker members of their party, like Grace, would survive the crossing. So he shut the door on that rage, locking it away, and for good measure, he pushed his doubts about Grace in there too. If he were a better man, he’d warn her about Asgard. That no matter what she thought from seeing a few of the mongrels that slipped through the cracks, she didn’t know what the hell she was getting herself into. He’d stood there silently while the others tried to dissuade her and that was about as charitable as he was prepared to be. He was selfishly, violently glad she’d made her decision to go with him. Two weeks until the new moon. He’d use that time to prepare her as best he could, but he needed her.

Grace sat on the swing, coffee cup still in hand, steam curling up from the brim. Her eyes looked bruised but she was no worse for wear than a sleepless night and the thin scrape on her cheek from Rane’s carelessness.

She was brave…that had surprised him. Prickly as a hedgehog, she held herself very separate. Some would read that as arrogance but he didn’t think that was it. She had a good heart. Compassionate as hell even when that same trait shocked her coming from someone else. When Christian had put his hand on her shoulder she’d nearly jumped out of her skin.

Aiden moved to sit next to her, his weight making the swing off kilter for a second until he settled back. She stiffened when his thigh brushed hers. Skittish. She hadn’t been that way last night. She’d come after him then, as if she wanted to eat him alive. The feel of her in his arms. Her scent. Her taste. He pushed it all aside.

“Grace…”

She glanced over. “Do we need to go back inside?”

He smiled and shook his head. “Fen will make sure no one disturbs us.”

“You told him to do that?”

“I didn’t need to.”

They fell silent and rocked on the porch, listening to Christian herd the others out. He liked that about her too, that she didn’t feel the need to fill up every bit of quiet with chatter. He’d gotten the impression that she wasn’t used to making small talk and that she was often alone.

She took a sip from her mug and made a soft sound at the back of her throat that reminded him of the noises she made just before she came. They should talk about it. He understood her reaction probably better than she did. It was a natural response to battle and he didn’t want her to think he’d take advantage of it again or expect any more from her than she was willing to give. He opened his mouth to do that but she spoke first.

“It’s not your fault.”

“What’s that?”

“Hallie.”

She looked directly at him then and it was a barbed gift. She rarely met his gaze for longer than a second or two. The open and earnest expression on her face was rarer still. She’d looked at him like that last night in the dark hallway, letting him see inside her, feel her need. It was what had goaded him to taste her, to give at least one of them a release. Now, he saw sympathy there, intelligence and understanding. It opened doors that he’d just as soon stay closed.

“Those demons took Hallie and you did everything you could to bring her back.”

“Not everything,” he said mildly. “I always gave up in the end, turned around and came home.”

“Stabbed, beaten and bloody, I heard what they said in there and what they didn’t. You never really gave up. But you know—” her voice dropped to a whisper, “—sometimes you can’t win. Sometimes a fight is too big for one person.”

He couldn’t shake the feeling that she spoke from experience. Still, his lips twisted humorlessly. “Not even for a god?”

“You’re not a god.”

“And you’re not a team player. Where is this don’t-go-it-alone talk coming from? If you don’t think we can do this, Grace, why did you agree? Don’t play games with me. Tell me now if you want to back out.”

The silence that followed wasn’t empty but neither of them was brave enough to break it until Christian came to tell them he was leaving. Relief on her face, Grace followed Christian inside to say her good-byes and Aiden stood staring at the screen door. He shouldn’t push her. He needed her to bring Hallie home.

Not your fault,
she’d said. But it was. Hallie had been young to take out on the trails even though she’d been in the saddle since she was four and was a natural rider. A whirlwind of energy. Fearless in her enthusiasm. Back then, he’d been more concerned about not training her properly, sheltering her so much that she wouldn’t be ready at her initiation for the role she’d be expected to assume.

Barely seven. He shouldn’t have pushed. They’d enjoyed a ten year lull in the surges and there’d been no warning, no reason to expect them to flare up again on that particular day. He’d buried his mother that winter. His father had passed the year before that and Bea when Hallie was still a toddler. So much loss, every year another blow that knocked him off his feet. But that spring day had felt like a new beginning. Everything bright and new, Hallie laughing beside him, lifting her face to the sun. A beautiful day. Then his daughter was ripped away too and he’d come back to this empty house, bewildered and so very alone.

The nightmare dragged on. While the portal continued to open and close with the lunar cycle, there were also sudden flares that would spit out a demon or two before snapping closed. They didn’t know if it signified that the portal was becoming unstable or if it signified at all. The elders said some fluctuation was normal and they’d just passed through an uncommonly peaceful stretch of time. Constantly putting out fires, seeing to the needs of the clan, searching for Hallie when he was able to push through the portal. This year had passed in a blur of hard work, exhaustion and brutal disappointment.

Now here was Grace, tracking the lost child of a runner and telling him that Hallie was still alive. Maybe he didn’t want to look too closely at that promise, or at her. Maybe he should push her, just to be sure she was telling the truth. He wanted to believe her. His hands gripped the railing behind him so tightly he thought the wood might break. If there was any chance that Hallie was still alive, he’d do whatever he had to do in order to bring her home.

Christian gave Grace a hug on the way out the door and even Fen patted her on the back.

“Get some rest,” he told her. “You’re looking ragged.”

Before she left, Elin drew her aside. “Just in case we don’t make it back, is there anyone you need to contact at home? Or maybe go see before we do this?”

Grace felt Aiden’s eyes on her and shook her head. “In my line of work, well, I keep that kind of paperwork updated.”

And there was no one she’d want to talk to one last time, let alone see. No family, no lover, few friends close enough to mourn her even if she didn’t make it back.

She closed the door behind them and then leaned against it, taking a deep breath. What had she gotten herself into? Fourteen days. The energy surges were tied to the lunar cycle and they had fourteen days to rest and prepare to cross over. She wished they could do it now, just get it over with for good or bad. She didn’t want two weeks to consider what a phenomenally stupid and dangerous thing she’d agreed to do.

She pushed off the door, moving to the mantel again. Gingerly, she picked up the picture and this time she didn’t let the crash of fear and pain knock her over. This time, she held onto it even though it burned.

Hold on just a little while longer, Hallie. We’re coming for you.

Fen showed up the next day on a motorcycle. A loud bike built of chrome and leather that looked blatantly, aggressively male. It suited him, she thought as he climbed off and strolled up the walkway toward her. She hadn’t liked feeling useless, so she’d been pulling weeds from the little garden planted in front of the house.

She pulled off her gloves and stood up, brushing dirt from the pair of jean shorts Rane had dropped off, along with a pair of sweats and a few T-shirts. Awful clothes. She needed to get to a store soon. But if Fen thought there was anything odd about the big spaceship on her chest, he didn’t comment.

He just nodded a greeting then looked at the garden. “What are you doing?”

“Pulling weeds.”

He grinned. “That’s monkshood, city girl. It blooms late. And it’s a threatened species.”

Crap.
She stared at the pile. “Can I put them back?”

He shrugged. “I wouldn’t bother and Aiden won’t care anyway. He’d probably let you burn down the house if you wanted to.”

She’d gotten that feeling too, which was why she hadn’t taken Aiden up on his offer last night when he’d caught her hand before she went up to bed. She’d looked at him, saw the simmer of desire, but couldn’t shake the feeling that behind that desire was a sense of obligation. So she’d tugged her hand free and gone to bed alone.

That morning she’d told him what her contract was for finding a missing child. Fee, expense reimbursement, liability, the works, and he’d agreed to it all. It seemed best to keep this as normal as possible—business, nothing more.

Fen’s gaze was a little too perceptive and she shifted her feet uncomfortably. Pushing the hair from her face, she said, “Aiden’s in town picking up…something farmy. He should be back soon though. If you want to wait, there’s stuff for sandwiches in the fridge.”

“How domestic. You’re all settled in already. Actually, I came for you.”

She froze. “Why?”

His eyes were a green so light they were nearly yellow, strikingly framed by thick black lashes. They flashed with his sudden grin. “So suspicious. You’ll need to learn to trust us, you know. You’re one of us now and we won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Uh-huh.” Sure.

His expression said he knew what she was thinking but he let it pass. “I came to see if you’d come talk to Dan—Maia’s dad. He’s my cousin and he’s all worked up over you tracking her here. He’s thinking about running.”

She winced. Maia. With everything else, she’d barely spared a thought to the girl and her dad. Very unprofessional. But there were the demons, then Aiden, Hallie, and Maia had gotten pushed to the back of the line. She couldn’t quite make up her mind what to do. She had a responsibility to the grandmother, but if Maia could see and hear the sorts of things Grace did then locking her up in a mental ward wasn’t going to help. It hadn’t helped her. Maybe talking to Dan, maybe even to Maia, would help make up her mind. She glanced down at the trowel and pile of murdered flowers. “Let me put this stuff away.”

“You go wash up,” Fen said. “I’ll hide the evidence.”

Ten minutes later she was warily eyeing a big, black beast of a motorcycle. “This is safe? Even on gravel?”

“I’ve got a helmet.” He held it out to her.

She rolled her eyes. “That’s not an answer.”

“Grace.” His voice was as warm as his smile—not very. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

She took the helmet.

It felt good, racing along the back roads, the wind blowing her hair not pinned down to her head by the helmet. She was wearing short sleeves. The day had heated up quickly, and she’d been sweating over the garden while plucking out those baby flowers but now she had goose bumps. She yelped when Fen turned suddenly and the back end shimmied. A little dip then bump up and they were on hardtop. Fen patted her knee and picked up speed. He was trying to scare her, the twisted bastard, passing a tractor riding the margin and then leaning into the curve. She loved it. If she lived out here, she would have a motorcycle too.

She bit her lip. Wouldn’t happen. If she made it out, if they found Hallie and made it back alive, she’d be heading home the next day. Job done and on to the next one.

Fen slowed and pulled off onto a dirt drive. The driveway was in bad shape and she held tighter to Fen’s waist as they bounced down it, holding her breath until he touched his foot to the ground when they pulled up in front of the house. This one was as old as Aiden’s but not nearly as well kept. The paint was starting to peel and the old barn in back looked like it leaned to one side. She climbed off the motorcycle and handed Fen the helmet.

Fen hooked it to the bike and said, “He just bought the place. It still needs a little work.”

They started up the stairs together, floorboards creaking. Dan waited for them at the door. He stared down at her, looking torn between wanting to suck up and needing to yell. Parents always thought she was the enemy. Even the ones who came to her for help.

“Maia’s not here.” The lift to his chin dared her to ask where.

“You couldn’t hide her from me,” she told him, following him inside and then sitting on the couch. Dan sat opposite her and Fen hovered in the doorway, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms.

“Have you called her grandmother yet?” Dan asked.

“No.”

Some of the tension left his shoulders. “Okay. Good. She wants to put her in an institution, did she tell you that?”

Grace shook her head, stomach sinking. She’d suspected as much but no, the grandmother hadn’t said so specifically. “She only told me Maia was starting treatment and that’s why she contacted you in the first place. For a medical history. She’s worried and she’s doing what she thinks is right.”

Dan glared at her. He was a big man, angry, cornered and frustrated. “I think I have a better idea about what’s right for my daughter.”

“You haven’t had contact with your daughter for years,” she pointed out.

Dan’s right hand fisted and she stared at it. He had big hands like Aiden, hard ones. A person could do a lot of damage with a hand like that. Fen pushed off the wall, casually crossed the room and sat beside her. When Dan didn’t answer, Fen said, “He has. When the mother was alive, Maia used to spend the summers here. The grandmother never approved so her daughter used to tell her Maia was at camp.”

“Lucy was always afraid of confrontation.” Dan rubbed his face. “I haven’t been the best father. I know I should have fought for custody when she died but…I’m barely Æsir myself. I can’t see demons. I can’t sense the energy lines or read minds or shift. I never thought Maia would be able to either, not with a human mother. I thought she’d be better off in that world but now…I’m not going to let them lock her up. Who knows what they’d do to her in there?”

Unfortunately, Grace had a pretty good idea but she didn’t tell him that. “I can return the grandmother’s retainer and tell her I wasn’t able to find anything. But from what I saw, she won’t give up easy.”

“There’s nothing for her to track.” Dan stared at Grace, a question in his eyes he was too scared to voice. God, if she did this it would go against every professional ethical value she lived by. But she couldn’t stand aside and let them lock Maia up either. She could talk to the grandmother, maybe she could make her understand.

A flash of memory—stark walls, a locked metal door and that tiny windowless room.

“Make sure you didn’t leave anything behind and that Maia understands the danger of contacting her grandmother.”

“She’s only nine,” Dan said, straightening.

“Find a way to make her understand.” They both stood. He held out his hand and she stared at it for a moment before taking it.

“Thank you,” he told her, then nodded toward Fen. “Doug.”

She waited until they were off the porch before sliding Fen a grin. “Doug, huh? You said Fenris was your last name but I forgot to ask what your first one was. Doug.” She tried it on her tongue. “I think it suits you. Doug. Dougie.”

He tossed her the helmet and gave her a dark look. “Say it again, little red, and I’ll show you how sharp my teeth really are.”

She laughed and set the helmet aside to pull back her unruly hair. She put the helmet on and pushed some of the loose strands inside while Fen watched.

He gave her a funny look then shook his head. “I didn’t think it’d be that easy to convince you.”

She shrugged. Once she made the decision, she knew it had been the right one but she wasn’t about to explain her reasons to Fen. But if he wanted to chat, there
was
something that had been bothering her. “Hey Fen—is there a reason Christian tried to warn me against trusting Aiden yesterday?”

Fen’s eyes hardened but he flashed that quick, sharp smile. “A good one. Christian likes to stick his nose where it doesn’t belong. For another, he doesn’t like it when a woman passes him over to chase someone else.”

As if. “I’m not chasing anyone.”

“If you say so, city girl. Hop on.”

He swung a leg over the seat and sat down, fiddling with something on the bike.

“Fen?”

“Yeah?” His voice was flat, wary, braced for another question about Aiden.

She leaned in so she could whisper in his ear. “Mind if I drive?”