Secret Worlds (513 page)

“Do you recognize him?” Holbrook asked, his words holding far more weight than their simplicity would suggest. He stood closer than I remembered, a hand hovering at my elbow, not quite touching me, but close enough to send flickering sparks of energy along my skin.

My nod was little more than a minute dip of my head, but Holbrook’s stiff stance let me know he had caught it. “Yes, he’s the last one I saw.”

Straightening my shoulders and curling my hands into fists as my sides, I stepped up to the metal exam table. The overhead lights gleamed on the brushed metal surface of the table, the refracted light making his skin almost appear a normal shade. If I ignored the gruesome injuries marring his face and abdomen, I could almost believe he was merely sleeping. Before I knew what I was doing, I had uncurled the fingers of one hand and raised them to brush a lock of hair back from his forehead, revealing the white gleam of an old scar just above his eyebrow.

“How old was he?” I heard myself ask as though I was listening to someone else, my voice distant and thick with emotion.

After flipping through the man’s chart, the rustle of papers loud in the otherwise silent room, Dr. Cole answered, “Twenty-six. His name was Nicholas Evans.”

Just two years younger than me.

“Nicholas,” I said, stroking through the soft curls of his hair. “Did your friends call you Nick? I bet your mom called you her Little Nicky.”

Holbrook stepped up beside me to lay a gentle hand on my elbow. “Riley…you don’t have to do this.”

“Let her be,” Dr. Cole said.

Looking up, I found her standing on the other side of the exam table, her face bearing an expression that I could only assume was a reflection of mine. She knew what I was feeling, understood the depth of sadness I felt for this young man who had suffered a senseless death for me. Because of me.

Does the endless parade of death, of lives cut too short, make her feel this emptiness too? Does she talk to them, uttering a few last words of comfort to their spirits?

Answering her sad smile with one of my own I ran my fingers through Nicholas’s hair one last time, and then drew in a deep breath through my nose. I was instantly bombarded with a thousand scents, each one with its own story to tell.

“Are you getting anything?” Holbrook asked.

“I’m not sure,” I answered slowly, struggling to pick up anything beyond the caustic stink of cleaning fluids.

Resettling my feet, I let the first trickles of the wolf’s energy weave through my consciousness, further heightening my senses. My vision sharpened, details shifting into stark relief, as my eyes changed to the wolf’s gold. I could hear the steady drip of a leaky faucet in the room next door and the heavy breaths of a couple going at it in a broom closet down the hall, no doubt seeking to escape the grim reality they witnessed every day for a few blessed moments.

Leaning in as close to the body as I could stomach, I sucked in another deep breath, letting the air roll across my tongue, tasting the scents. Sifting through the varied chemicals used to clean his body, I delved deeper, envisioned the assorted scents in my mind as a tangled web that had to be picked apart to reveal each strand.

It was faint at first, like the barely remembered fragments of a dream. Closing my eyes I drew another breath, zeroing in on the hot copper and spice smell that I associated with my wolf’s scent. Samson’s was different from mine, it held a sour note, somehow managing to hint at the wrongness in his mind. The longer I focused on it the stronger the scent became, searing itself into my memory, never to be forgotten.

“It’s him,” I said, sure of my words as I opened my eyes. “It’s Samson.”

Whatever Dr. Cole saw in my face when I raised my head caused an expression of startled surprise to ripple across her features, her eyes widening.

Releasing the wolf’s energy, I willed her to sink back down into the dark places inside. For a moment I felt as if my head had been stuffed with cotton, the room appearing dimmer and my hearing muffled as I adjusted to the loss of her heightened senses.

“You’re sure?” Holbrook asked, tapping out a quick message on his cell phone.

“Positive. It was Samson alright. He’s getting closer.”

“Shit,” he hissed, finishing typing out the message and then lifting the phone to his ear. “Marge? It’s Holbrook. I need to speak to Santos. It’s urgent.”

“Thanks, Doc,” I said, smiling sadly at Dr. Cole as Holbrook stalked out into the hallway, irritation echoing in his footsteps.

***

I was still shaken when we got back to the hotel, the grimness of it all weighing heavily on my shoulders. Ignoring the curious looks from the hotel staff and guests as I was herded through the lobby by my entourage, I gratefully stepped into the quiet of the elevator, closing my eyes and resting my head back against the cool mirrored wall.

I was no stranger to death, or the brutality that one man can exact upon another, but it hadn’t made it any easier to look at the young man laid out in Dr. Cole’s morgue. The clinical, emotionless atmosphere had almost made it harder to process his death, with no one there to mourn his passing except Holbrook, the doctor, and me. Holbrook and Dr. Cole were good people, dedicated to their work, but they were jaded towards the death of innocents. They didn’t feel it in the same visceral way I did. Or maybe they did, and were just better at hiding it.

Opening my eyes just enough to watch the elevator’s other occupants, I studied Holbrook. At first glance he appeared unaffected by our little jaunt into Death’s domain, but the flexing muscle in his jaw and the tightness around his eyes hinted at the anger and sadness that warred within him.

I guess it does get to him too.

Casting a look at the other agents to make sure that none of them were looking in our direction, I reached out to twine my fingers through Holbrook’s, gently squeezing his hand. Turning his head just a fraction to look at me, he squeezed back but didn’t smile. After what we had seen that morning, I wasn’t sure I’d ever feel like smiling again either.

The elevator chimed merrily when we reached our floor, and a split second before the door opened Holbrook disentangled his fingers from mine. It stung a little, a seed of rejection taking root in the middle of my chest, but I knew that wasn’t his intention. As Johnson had so graciously reminded everyone the previous day, their job was to protect me, and that was it. Whatever was happening between us was against the rules, and while I didn’t give a flying rat’s ass what anyone else thought, I knew that Holbrook didn’t have the same luxury.

After all, it isn’t
my
ass that’s on the line if the muckity-mucks find out.

“And on that cheery note,” I muttered under my breath, following my bodyguards out of the elevator.

“Hmm?” Holbrook asked, the slump of his shoulders making him look as morose as I felt.

“Nothing, just still a little unsettled after earlier,” I replied, forcing a lackluster smile.

“Go get some rest. I have some paperwork to do and calls to make, but Collins and Hill will be right outside your door.”

Thing 1 and Thing 2 are on guard duty again. Oh, joy.

“Great,” I said, trying to sound cheerful. Judging by the looks I received I’d failed miserably.

Ah, fuck it
.

THE STINK OF the morgue was still lingering in my nose when I got back to my room. Even Loki didn’t approve, wrinkling his nose and letting out a disapproving meow when I stretched out on the bed next to him.

“You’re right. A shower would be a great idea,” I said, scratching him behind the ears before pushing my tired body up from the bed and walking into the bathroom, stripping off my clothes along the way.

The water was just shy of scalding when I stepped under the spray, a long sigh of relief slipping out of me when I tipped my head back under the water. For several blessed moments I just let it sluice over me, washing away the stench of dead flesh and chemicals. I didn’t step out of the shower until I had all but scrubbed my skin raw, making sure to erase any lingering traces of the morgue.

Brushing my teeth and taking the time to run a comb through my tangled hair, I was starting to feel somewhat human again. The prospect of calling up some room service, finding a mindless reality show on TV, and snuggling into the big bed with Loki sounded like absolute bliss.

“So what do you think buddy, want some room service? We might as well get the FBI to spring for lunch if we’re stuck here, right?” I called as I emerged from the bathroom, squeezing the last of the water from my hair with a towel. He didn’t answer, but I wasn’t surprised. Most of the conversations since my fuzzy roommate wandered into my life had been pretty one-sided.

Dropping the damp towel on the floor and sitting cross-legged on the side of the bed I snagged the room service menu from the bedside table, glancing over the hotel’s offerings. After everything I’d been through since waking up that morning I was in the mood for something sweet, chocolaty, and oozing caramel to chase away the gruesome memories. The wolf on the other hand wanted red meat, hot and bloody.

Deciding that the better part of valor was to appease everyone’s needs I settled on a bacon cheeseburger—rare of course—with a giant helping of French fries, and a caramel-drizzled brownie with a dollop of vanilla ice cream. I’d likely spend the rest of the night twitching from the sugar rush, but I didn’t care. Fluffing my damp curls I picked up the phone and hit the room service button.

“Did you want some milk, Loki?” I asked my lurking companion. When he didn’t answer I gave the room a cursory glance, wondering where the furry little butthead was hiding.

“Good afternoon, how can I assist you?” a cheery voice said in my ear.

“Hi, I want to order some room service,” I answered, leaning across the bed to peer over the edge, trying to ignore the bitter seed of worry taking root in my stomach.

“And what can we get you this afternoon?”

“Umm…a bacon cheeseburger…rare…” I said, turning to look around the rest of the room.

That was when I realized the door to my room was open, and I was alone.

If I hadn’t already been sitting down I would have ended up on my ass as the world dropped out from beneath me, stealing my breath and causing me to reach for the nightstand to steady myself. I wasn’t sure how long the cheery-voiced woman had been trying to get my attention before her voice cut through the numbing fog in my mind.

“Ma’am? Ma’am, are you there?”

“He’s gone…” I started to answer, my words trailing off, but I was already forgetting about her again. Leaping up from the bed, I let the phone slip from my slack fingers. “Loki? Where are you, buddy?” I asked, dropping down to my hands and knees to search under both beds, the small desk, behind the curtains, anywhere and everywhere he might have been hiding, even though I already knew the gut-wrenching truth.

He was gone.

Pausing only long enough to pull on my dirty clothes and boots, I raced out into the hallway, unnerved by the silence of the empty floor. There was already something creepy about having an entire floor of the hotel to myself, the agents my only company. Yet as I looked around I realized that the usual contingent of agents was absent except for a single man standing at bored attention beside the elevator. I vaguely recognized him as I approached, but couldn’t remember if I’d ever heard his name mentioned.

These guys need to come with nametags or something.

His dark eyes narrowed at my approach, regarding me with professional disinterest.

“Have you seen Loki?” I asked, my hands trembling as I fought off the impending panic attack.

“Who?” asked the agent who I thought might have been called Jacobs or Jackson, frowning down at me.

“Loki. My cat.”

My anger flared when he began to smirk, the roll of his eyes letting me know just how much of a silly little girl he thought I was. Seeing the snarl curling my lip back from my teeth he schooled his expression back into one of professional detachment, but the derision remained clear.

“No, ma’am. I have not seen your cat.”

“What about the other agents? Where is everyone? Maybe someone saw something.”

“They’re in a strategy meeting.”

I thought it was an odd time for a meeting, but then again, I’d never had what you’d consider a real job, so what the hell did I know?

“Well, can you ask if anyone saw anything out of the ordinary?”

“Sorry, ma’am, I’m not permitted to leave my post.”

Riled by his refusal to be of any assistance, my hands clenched into fists, but I resisted the urge to acquaint them with his clean-shaven face.

“Thanks so much for your help,” I spat before I spun on my heel and stormed back to my room, slamming the door shut behind me with enough force to make it rattle in the door frame.

Making a beeline for my backpack, I upended it over the bed, searching through its contents for Holbrook’s business card.

“Come on, where the hell is it?” I muttered as I sifted through half empty tubes of chapstick, pens, sticks of gum that were hard as a rock, and a handful of crumpled tissues. A jolt of relief stabbed into my chest when my fingers closed around the bent card. Retrieving the phone from where I had dropped it on the floor, I punched in his cell number and waited, tapping my foot on the floor, as it rang. And rang. And rang.

Growling in frustration when his warm, drawling voice clicked on in the prerecorded message, I waited for him to finish saying “Please leave me a message.”

“Where the hell are you? Loki is missing and there’s no one around. I’m seriously losing my shit here. You guys are supposed to be protecting me so where the fuck is everyone? I…I have to go. I have to find him.”

My hand shook when I set the phone down in the cradle, resisting the urge to throw it across the room. “Well, I guess it’s just you and me, Wolfie.”

Stuffing one of the room keys into the back pocket of my jeans, I sucked in a deep breath, making sure that I could pick up Loki’s familiar essence. He smelled of warm sunshine and lush green things. The scent strengthened as I drew on the wolf’s energy, solidifying into an almost physical thread that I could wrap my fingers around and follow. Sure now that I had a firm grasp on his trail, I opened the door and stepped out into the hallway.