Fading Light: Shadow Born, Book 2 (13 page)

Brenna took a long breath. “I want Adare as bad as you. You have to trust me.”

Fire danced in Mira’s eyes. “He killed my granddaughter.”

“I know.” Brenna grabbed her arm. “But he’s strong. If we don’t do this the right way, it won’t work. I promise you’ll be on the front line when we go after him.”

“You say that now.”

“I mean it, Mira.” Brenna wiped the bloody tears from her friend’s cheeks. “We’ll kill him together.”

Mira pulled back and wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. “You better keep your word.”

Chapter Thirteen

Headquarters was unnaturally silent when Brenna stepped through the glass doors into the lobby. As she walked past the front counter, Lucy growled something nonsensical and slammed her window closed. Someone hadn’t had their three pots of coffee today.

Brenna moved down the narrow corridor in search of Seraph. The sterile hall with its white tile and white walls was such a stark contrast to the bright crimson entry way, it took a second for her eyes to adjust. When they did, she was standing in front of Damien’s office.

She stopped at the door and played her fingers across the bright orange tape that covered the frame. Although she had barely known Damien, he had seemed like a good guy. As a human among deviants, he had been like a fish out of water. But he had made the best of it. He hadn’t deserved to die young. And he sure as hell hadn’t deserved to be drained by a demon.

“You made it.” Seraph moved toward her down the long hall. “Will you walk the scene?” he asked as he stopped beside her. “It’s been a few days, but you might be able to sense something we missed.”

“Of course.” Brenna nodded. It didn’t matter how much time had passed. Death magic was similar to her magic, just on the opposite end of the spectrum. She could sense the residue years later.

Seraph pulled a switchblade from the back pocket of his jeans and cut through the tape. The metallic smell of dried blood and death had lingered. Damien’s desk was pristine, every pencil and notebook perfectly in its place. No blood splattered across the scratched mahogany surface. She ran her fingers across the wood, but there was no psychic residue. Fear left a strong aftertaste, and it always left a mark.

She glanced at Seraph. “Who was the last person to see him?”

“No one knows who he met with.” Seraph trailed behind her as she walked the room. “He didn’t have an assistant or keep a schedule. But he wasn’t stupid, and he didn’t take unnecessary risks.”

“You liked him.” The observation surprised her. Seraph wasn’t a human sympathizer. He had been irate when Damien had been forced onto the team.

Seraph shrugged. “He earned it.”

She sensed the pain behind his bravado. Damien had been a friend. Another of theirs lost to Adare. It intensified her desire to find his killer. Closing her eyes, she let out a long breath to clear her mind. Every magical death, even if it wasn’t violent, left residue.

She stopped at the stained white couch in the corner of the room. Dried blood splattered the cotton upholstery. She placed her hand on the largest spot and called forth her magic.

In times like these, she wished her powers were more refined. It would be so much easier if she could slip back in time and view the murder as it happened. But she could only sense the cause of death. Damien’s death had been painless, the life sucked right out of him. “You’re right. It was a demon.” She opened her eyes. Pulling a black handkerchief from her pocket, she wiped the blood from her hand. “How many do we have on the IRT?”

“Demons?” Seraph raised his brow. “One half-demon and three incubi and succubi.”

“We’re looking for an incubus, a succubus, or another around the same power level.” She studied the room to make sure she hadn’t missed anything. “It would have been an easy kill. They just had to touch him, subdue him, and drain him dry. He probably didn’t realize it was happening.”

“That’s not a consolation.”

Brenna shook her head. “It wasn’t meant to be.”

“Could it have been Sam?”

For a moment she was so taken aback, she didn’t know how to respond. Sam was irritating, out of control, and a pain in the ass. But he was a friend. And friends didn’t accuse friends of murder.

“It’s an honest question.” Seraph leaned against the wall, his gaze intent. “I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t ask.”

He was right. She knew that. But it still pissed her off.

“The magical signature is similar to his, but not identical.” Brenna considered. “We live together. I would know if he had done this.”

“But would you protect him?” Seraph eyed her cautiously. And for good reason. She was about to go postal on his ass.

“You’ve known me for almost a hundred years. Do you have to ask?” Hands on her hips, she glared at him. “Sam is one of us. He has issues, but he wouldn’t do this.”

Seraph shook his head. “That’s exactly what you said about Adare.”

His words deflated her righteous indignation. He was right. She had defended Adare to the bitter end. If he hadn’t confessed, she might still be defending him.

She’d been friends with the sociopath for over a century. And, when push came to shove, he had handed her over to Orien without a second thought. His betrayal had left her unable to trust her instincts. But, despite that, she couldn’t lump Sam in the same category as Adare.

She locked eyes with Seraph. “He didn’t do it.”

“Then who did?” Seraph asked. “We have to look at every option.”

“Sam’s not an option. Mark him off your list.”

Seraph didn’t reply. She knew there was nothing more she could do to get Sam off the hot seat, so she swept the room a final time. There was nothing new. Nothing exculpatory for Sam, or damning for someone else. She followed Seraph into the hall and waited as he secured the door. Once he had finished, they made their way down the winding corridor to his office.

“You have a visitor.” Seraph glanced at her over his shoulder.

She knew he hadn’t forgotten to tell her. His brain was a steel trap. He had intentionally withheld the information, so as not to distract her. “Who is it?” she replied, a trace of irritation in her voice.

Seraph didn’t answer, but Brenna was no fool. It had to be Agnes, otherwise he would have told her right off. She had seen Seraph’s reaction to the witch the first time they met. He had drooled like a Saint Bernard.

As they rounded the corner, she caught an unmistakable glimpse of purple streaked hair. Brenna smiled. Agnes had dressed to kill. Tight leather pants were painted onto her lean body, combined with a violet corset that barely concealed her full breasts. She had thrown a cape over her shoulders for good measure. Her long hair had been curled and twisted into an intricate knot on top of her head. There was no doubt why Seraph was taken with her. It was hard not to be.

“I didn’t expect you this soon.” Brenna embraced Agnes. She had used magic recently and the residue danced across her skin.

“You need me, so I’m here.” Agnes smiled as she stepped away. “My familiar came too. Can I let him free?”

Brenna glanced at Seraph who nodded. She was surprised. The beast had almost killed him the last time they had met.

Agnes murmured an incantation, and a large black dog appeared at her side. His lips were curved in a sinister smile, while his thick tale thumped against the tile floor. Not sure how to greet him, Brenna crouched to his level. Meeting his gaze, she patted him on the head. It was the right response. His smile widened to reveal more razor sharp teeth.

“Igor likes you,” Agnes observed. “You should be flattered. He’s particular.”

Brenna stood, still eyeing the beast. “I like him too.” And she did. Although she found the keen intelligence in his eyes unsettling.

“How much has Seraph told you?” Brenna asked as she walked into Seraph’s office.

“Everything except what you plan to do with the demon once you heal him.” Agnes sat on the edge of Seraph’s desk, arms crossed. “I’m not going to let you release a healed demon prince.”

“Then help me.” Brenna sat on the couch Seraph had shoved in the corner of the office. “What do I have to do to send him back?”

Agnes considered. “I’ve been working on a spell, but it requires a tremendous amount of power, and a sacrifice to fuel it. No pain, no spell. You should try to cast it before he’s healed, in case it doesn’t work. You may have to trick him. Don’t make him any promises.” She stood, Igor at her feet. “But you’re not strong enough to pull the spell off, even with Gray. You’ll need help.”

“Then help me, or I’ll find help. It’s not like we have another choice. If we don’t do it, the humans die anyway.” Brenna stared at the ceiling. “We’ve got less than forty-eight hours.”

Agnes nodded. “I’ll have to make preparations. Tell Ga’loh you’ll do what he wants, but you need time to gather ingredients. He doesn’t understand how your magic works, so he’ll believe you.”

“How do I get in touch with you?” Brenna asked.

“I’ll find you. I’ll be under the radar. I don’t want the demon to know I’m here.” Agnes stepped into the hall. “I know my way out.”

“Do you trust her?” Seraph asked as they watched Agnes disappear down the hall.

Brenna shook her head. “Trust is irrelevant. There’s no one else that can help us.”

“She’ll want something in return. Her kind always do.”

“I know.” Brenna walked to the doorway. “Everything comes at a price. Even friendship.”

Seraph settled behind his desk, barely visible over the stacks of files. “Just make sure you’re willing to pay it.”

Gray was waiting for her in their office. She wanted to chastise him for coming into work, but that would make her a hypocrite. Instead, she stood in the doorway, taking advantage of his inattention to study him. He didn’t look injured. His hair hung loose, brushing his shoulders as he hunched over the desk to study the file Seraph had given them. The sight of it reminded her that the body count was rising.

With a renewed sense of urgency, she sank into the chair across from him. They needed to get the cure from Ga’loh and stop the contagion.

Gray didn’t look up. “Is Agnes going to help us?”

“Yeah, but she needs us to buy her some time.” She leaned back in the chair and stared at the ceiling. “Think Ga’loh will play ball?”

“Yeah. He’s desperate. Adare can’t heal him, so he doesn’t have anything to lose. A few days won’t matter.” He looked up. The pain in his eyes ripped into her gut. “Why did you leave last night?”

She straightened. His question surprised her. “I was mad.”

“I know that. But why did you leave?”

“Because you needed rest, and I was mad.” Did she have to spell it out?

Gray sighed. “Before you knew who I was, you would have gone toe-to-toe with me. Now, you get mad and run away. I miss the old Brenna.”

His words were like weapons, they plunged into her heart. She wasn’t sure he was right, but if he was, she hadn’t noticed the change. If her insecurities were bleeding into her actions, she needed to reevaluate her own behavior. She didn’t want to run from him, but if she was, it was because every cross word made her question their future.

“I miss the old Gray.” She paused as his eyes lit with anger. “But he was a façade. A character created to deceive me.”

“You don’t believe that.” He stepped from behind the desk and walked toward her.

She shrugged. “It’s the truth.”

“What do I have to do to make you trust me?” He gripped her arms. “I’m not going to betray you.”

“Time,” she replied. “And not doing stupid crap like spelling me to get me out of the way, or lying to me. Every time we hit a high point, you knock us down.”

“I’m trying to protect you.” His grip tightened. “I’m not going to lose you again.”

She shook her head. “I can protect myself. And we’re not going to get anywhere until you realize it.”

“Ga’loh could have killed us both. I made a judgment call.”

“It wasn’t your decision.” She paused to consider her words. “Demons respect power. If I had been with you, it might have changed things. Instead he beat the crap out of you.”

Gray released her. “You don’t know that.”

“It doesn’t matter. We’ve got two days before the meeting. Seraph’s raiding the airport tonight, and I’m going. You can do whatever the hell you want.” She was so done with this, done with him. As she left the office, her heart was pounding so fast it made her nauseous.

Where did he get off thinking she was weak? She had been raised a warrior, had been drafted into the army at fourteen and never looked back. The women in Gray’s clan might sit around and let their men protect them. Not her. It wasn’t in her DNA. She fought her own battles. A husband was a helpmate, not a master. He was a partner, not a dictator.

Fuming with rage and mindless of the people around her, Brenna stormed through the tunnels. Seraph was waiting for her at the SUV. Arms crossed, he leaned against the vehicle. “I hear you’re fighting with me tonight.” He pushed off the car. “Were you going to tell me?”

She shrugged. “You need me to even the odds.”

“True. But I also need Gray. I saw your fight on the monitors.”

Her vision went red.

“Calm down, Brenna. The camera in your office happened to be on. I didn’t do it on purpose.” He motioned for her to stand beside him. “You’re overreacting. Take a breath.”

Brenna studied him. Once upon a time, Seraph had been her best friend. She had trusted him, told him every detail about her battered life. And the whole time he had been lying to her. A part of her hated him for his deceit. But a larger part of her missed him. Leaning against the car, she took a long breath. “He drives me nuts. I survived without him for a thousand years. I’m as strong as he is.”

“And you love him.”

She nodded. “And I hate him.”

“Look at it from Gray’s perspective. He spent the past hundred years thinking you killed his family. Now he’s supposed to pretend it never happened?”

“He shouldn’t have believed it in the first place.” She groaned. The words sounded trite, even to her. “How do we start over, Seraph?”

He shook his head. “You can’t. But you can start again.”

Gray stepped from the tunnels. His hair was tousled, and his breathing heavy. He must have run the entire way. She opened the door of the SUV and slipped inside. “I’m going home. I need to rest for the fight.”

“I’ll call you if I learn anything else.” Seraph shut the door to the SUV and leaned against it.

Gray ignored them. Walking around the car, he pulled open the passenger door and jumped inside. “A wise woman told me to go back to bed,” he said as he leaned against the seat. “I decided to take her advice.”

“Smart man.” Seraph shook his head. “Maybe you do have some sense.”