Authors: Mina Carter
Last year they’d needed to get bodies inside a warehouse where some asshole was manufacturing pixie dust, a new drug aimed at paranormals with the added benefit of killing any human who took it stone dead. Whether or not that was after the best high of their lives was debatable. Considering the official photos of some of the bodies, contorted in pain even in death, he was going with not.
After discarding plans a through to f, they’d managed to get a load of operatives in with be-spelled sacks that were bigger on the inside, but since neither he nor Duke could be spelled in such a manner, they’d had to resort to different methods. Instead, Duke had shifted, his human body shifting to the shadow form before his full dragon form, and settled over Baron’s back like a large, living tattoo. It wasn’t the most comfortable method to use, and itched like fuck whenever Duke moved, but it worked.
He didn’t say anything, just grunted, and then changed tactics. “So what’s it got to do with the police?”
“Ah, yes.” She folded her hands over the file again, a posture she used often. Perhaps to make herself look older than her years and more authoritative. He wanted to tell her she needn’t bother with all that. If any operative in the agency didn’t take her seriously, there was a good chance they’d end up having a chat with either Cal or Gran, or, if they were really unlucky, both. “We have an understanding with the police department that should certain individuals come to us, we will pass any and all information that may help an on-going investigation over. Laurence Croft has been on the department’s radar for a long time—”
Hammond leaned forward, the oily smile on his face doing nothing to help Baron like him more. “Indeed. We’ve been after this scum-bag for a while, so you boys will be looking for anything we can use against him.”
His words helped even less. Now Baron just wanted to punch him in the face. Repeatedly. He ignored the asshole and returned his attention to Iliona. “So, you’re taking the guy’s money and planning to screw him over? Isn’t that like…not ethical? Or against client-agency confidentiality or something?”
Iliona opened her mouth but before she had a chance to say anything Hammond spluttered in fury.
“That’s just typical. Me and my boys bust a gut trying to bring in scum like Croft, then fucking bleeding hearts like this pair start on about human rights and it all goes to shit.” He rounded on Iliona, spittle gathering at the corner of his lips in his ire. “Haven’t you got anyone other than this pair?”
Both dragons surged to their feet, the temperature in the room dropping several degrees. Iliona met the detective’s glare with a hard expression as Baron loomed over him. A whisper across the back of his neck told him that Duke had shed human form in favor of his shadow one. The room was well lit but the dragon found the shadows anyway, pulling them to wrap around himself, melting his human body and releasing the abilities that made them so dangerous.
“No, I don’t think you get me, human.” Baron sneered the word like the insult it was. “We don’t give a fuck about your rights. Taking a man’s money and stabbing him in the back...it’s wrong. It’s about honor, integrity. Not that I’d expect someone of your species to understand
that
.” He shot a glance to Iliona. “Ladies in the room excepted of course.”
Iliona waved her hand in dismissal, her gaze leveled on the suddenly pale police officer. “I suggest, Detective, that if you want my agency’s help, you refrain from insulting our operatives and lose the
humans are superior
attitude. If humans could get you what you needed, then you wouldn’t be knocking at our door, now would you?”
The silence in the room after the crack of her voice spoke volumes. In this case it warned the man discretion was the better part of valor and he perhaps better keep his mouth shut before the two pissed off dragons in the room shut it for him permanently. Hard to prove a murder without a body and for a dragon the average human, even a heavyweight model like Hammond, was a light snack.
“No, very true.”
The admission had to have cost the detective some pride. He sat back, altering his body language to non-threatening but Baron didn’t miss the sharp look of hate the guy shot at them and Iliona. He shared a glance with Duke. They could take care of themselves but the little human was all kinds of delicate. Looked like one of them would be passing the guy’s name to either Cal or Gran on a flyby later.
“Still, you didn’t answer my question,” Baron reminded Iliona. There was no way he was letting her off the hook, not when it was a question of honor. Otherwise they were no better than pixies, and everyone knew what sneaky fucks they were. “Isn’t it unethical to take the guy’s money and screw him over?”
She met his gaze, her expression serious and honest. “Ordinarily, yes. But the seers say there are indications that Croft is involved in the illegal trafficking of paras. Which means he’s numero uno on a lot of people’s list. We just happen to have the in.”
At her words, steel straightened Baron’s spine and his brother stepped free from the shadows, the same grim expression on his face Baron knew was on his own.
“We’re in. What do we have to do?”
Chapter Two
If Honor hadn’t known the dark stains on the wall were blood, she’d have thought they made rather a pretty pattern, like the expensive modern art pieces in her father’s office. She shivered. But, pretty as they might appear, these weren’t anything so expensive or benign.
Turning slowly, she took in the scene in front of her. An abandoned factory on the company’s portfolio, the place looked like something out of a horror film. Shadows crowded deeply at the edges of the room and the meager light from the broken sky-lights offered scant illumination even at midday. The ones not broken were covered in grime and debris from years of neglect.
Marks on the floor showed where production rows had been, with drill holes in the concrete for the now absent machines. The place must have been stripped when the last owners left. Power was out, but even if it wasn’t, it wouldn’t have done them any good. The bulbs in the strip-lighting were all smashed. One unit dangled from one chain, shattered beyond repair, with more brown stains on the floor below it.
Honor skirted them, her heels ringing out against the floor as she ventured further into the gloom. As soon as she’d seen this property in the system, bought months ago but not developed, her spidey-senses had started to tingle. The property wing of Croft Enterprises was strictly a hit-hard, swift turnaround venture. It was unusual for something to sit on the books untouched for six weeks, never mind the six months this one had. She avoided another brown patch and wrinkled her nose. Looked like her suspicions were correct.
Her assistant though, was less squeamish. Crouching at the edge of the stains, she rubbed at something on the floor, and then sniffed her fingers. “Oh yes, definitely looks like circle fighting.”
“Ugh, Lucy.” Honor couldn’t help her grimace. “Don’t do that. You have no idea what’s been on this floor.”
“On the contrary, this is chalk with....” She sniffed again. “St. John’s Wort.”
She dropped her hand and looked at the stains with a frown. “Looks like they’re using magic circles to contain the fights which means we’re definitely looking at para fights.”
“Definitely?” Honor threw a smile over her shoulder. Lucy was real fond of certain words, definitely being one of them. Well used to the teasing, Lucy didn’t rise to the bait. Instead she just nodded.
“Definitely. Hey! Watch your feet!”
Honor whipped her head back around and stopped dead, foot in mid-air. Where she’d been about to step, the floor fell away into darkness. Heart in her throat, she took a step back, and then another. Christ, one more step and she’d have fallen right into lord knows what.
“Shit, that was close. You okay, chick?”
Lucy was at her side in an instant, her hand under Honor’s arm in quick gesture of support.
“Yeah, I’m good, thanks. Crap, I didn’t expect that. What is it?”
With her heart-rate returning to normal, Honor stepped closer to the edge, Lucy at her side. Now that she could see it, the edge of the hole was easy to spot. A large, jagged tear in the floor, it looked for all the world like some giant had grabbed a handful of concrete and torn it free. The two women edged closer. Lucy pulled a small penlight from her pocket and snapped it on.
The thin beam of light played over the bottom of the hole. Concrete and dirt lined the bottom, as rough and uneven as the walls. Honor grimaced as a sharp stink wafted upwards, burning her nose and bringing tears to her eyes.
“Hell, what is that?”
“Sulfur. Smells like they had a demon in here.” Lucy’s voice was curious as she moved closer, the light playing over the crude walls of the pit. Strange sigils were written on them in what looked to be the same chalk that circled the floor. “Yeah, look. It’s a demon trap, right there built into the hole. Crap, whoever is doing this
really
knows what they’re doing. You don’t...you
can’t
fuck about with demons. It’s freaking suicide.”
“Hey, what’s that over there?” Honor squinted, trying to make out details in a lighter patch of shadow on the other side of the pit. Holding her hand out for Lucy’s torch, she edged around the opening, training the light on whatever it was. With each step more details came into view until she stopped, bile rising in her throat.
It was a dog, or had been. Now it was a corpse, its abdomen torn open and guts spilling out like the stuffing from a burst teddy bear.
“Pit-bull.” Lucy’s voice seemed to come from far away. “Wouldn’t have stood a chance against a demon. What sick fuck puts a dog into a fight with a para?”
A large clang deeper in the warehouse made both their heads snap up. Honor’s eyes narrowed as she tried to pierce the gloom beyond the weak pool of light cast by the nearest broken skylight. The shadows crowded closer and unease slithered down her spine. She’d walked in here determined to prove that someone at Croft Enterprises was organizing illegal para-fights but she hadn’t considered what she would do when she found the evidence she needed. Or if the organizers and participants hadn’t left.
“I think we should get out of here.” Lucy picked up on her mood, wariness in her voice. “I’ve got enough on my phone camera.”
“Agreed.” Honor couldn’t help the shiver that rocked up her spine as they turned for the door, each step faster than the last. The darkness seemed to swell behind them, the silence ominous, as though the shadows themselves watched and reached out, greedy to trap the two women within their embrace. She upped her fast walk to a trot, then an all-out run as they approached the door they’d entered by.
Heart pounding, skin slick with cold sweat, Honor burst out of the door and into the sunlight, Lucy hard on her heels. Both overshot the car, only stopping the other side to pant, hands on their knees, and look back warily to make sure nothing had followed them from the darkness.
After a long pause, when nothing seemed in imminent danger of bursting free and attacking them in the warm light of day, she slid a glance sideways at Lucy. As wide-eyed as Honor knew she must be herself, the other woman shuddered, like she shook off a specter and slid her phone into her purse before offering a small smile. “Look at us, bloody jumping at shadows. Fancy a coffee on the way back?”
***
It didn’t take them long to get back to the office, even with the coffee stop, but before they’d swept through the expansive reception, Honor had taken three calls on various projects and received a text summons from her father.
She waved at Kirsty, the receptionist, as the two passed in a clatter of heels against the marble floor. Handing Lucy her bag when they got in the elevator, she hit the button for the floor her office was on, then the one for the boardrooms and senior offices. “Take this through for me, would you, hon? I need to head on up to see my father.”
Lucy nodded in response, her attention on the photos on her phone as she looped Honor’s bag over her shoulder. “These sigils are really clear. I’m going to send them over to a friend of mine who’s into this sort of thing.” She looked up as the door pinged their arrival. “If that’s okay with you, of course?”
“Uh-huh, whatever you need to do.” Honor stepped forward, checking up and down the corridor to make sure they weren’t overheard. “Just make sure you do it on your phone, don’t put anything into the computer systems here. I’m fairly sure that all emails are being monitored.”
They had to be, it was the only explanation for certain people in the company knowing about her projects before she’d told anyone outside her team. Which pissed her the hell off.
Lucy grinned and winked. “Stealth mode initiated. Later ’gator.”
Honor shook her head but couldn’t help the smile as she stepped back into the lift. It closed with a soft whoosh. Why she put up with the girl’s cheek, she had no idea, but, despite her unconventional attitude, she’d never had a better assistant.
The ride the rest of the way up to her father’s office took less than a minute. As she emerged into the thickly carpeted corridor, Honor cast a quick glance at the artwork on the walls and shuddered. The random splashes of red reminded her too much of the blood on the walls and floor at the warehouse.
Ignoring them, she set off down the corridor towards her father’s office, heels silent in the plush carpeting. The air conditioner was racked right up, but she still felt grimy from the heat of the streets and being in the warehouse. God, she didn’t want to think about the warehouse but it kept raising its head like an unwanted ghost.
The idea that her father knew about it, had condoned what went on there, churned her stomach. Sure, she knew some of his dealings in the past had been on the shady side, but that was money...not lives. Figures fudged in the columns of double-entry book-keeping, not blood on the walls and guts spilled on the floor.
The door to his offices was ajar, as usual. Unlike a lot of big bosses, particularly ones of his age, her father had an open door policy. She pushed it further and slipped through it into the outer office.