Got Thrills? A Boxed Set (A McCray Collection) (29 page)

“Now,” the lieutenant stressed.

“On it, Lieutenant,” Brian responded as he rose. He turned to her. “I will be right back.”

As he rose, his holster caught on the desk. “Damn it!” he cursed as he unsnapped the holster from his belt. He must have forgotten to lock it away in the flurry of activity once the postman’s body was found on her doorstep. Rapidly, he placed the gun in the drawer, closed it, and put his key in the lock. It stuck a bit.

“Do you understand the meaning of the word, now, Hoffman?” the lieutenant bellowed.

Giving up on the lock, Brian rushed toward the lieutenant’s office.

Angela sank into her chair. She didn’t want to go into protective custody. To live in a series of no-name motels, and eating no-name fast food? The memory nearly made her retch. But if she refused to go, then Brian would insist on staying at her place. She would have no privacy. No time in which to carry out her plan.

Crossing her legs, her foot banged against the desk. Ugh. She couldn’t even change body positions without causing harm. Then she noticed that the drawer slid open an inch. The silver snap of Brian’s holster gleamed out at her. She wasn’t very religious, but if ever there was a sign from God, this had to be it.

Before her courage wavered, Angela rose, pretending to get a paper on the other side of the desk. Carefully, she opened the drawer a little more and lifted the gun out. Tucking the gun, holster and all, underneath her bulky sweater, Angela quietly closed the drawer again. As casually as she could, she headed toward the back of the squad room.

Halfway to her destination, Brian called out from the lieutenant’s office, “And where do you think you are going?”

Angela attempted a smile. “Just to the restroom.”

He nodded, before the lieutenant caught his attention again.

Hands shaking, Angela continued on her path. A flash of the expression on Brian’s face when he heard the shot filled her vision. It nearly stalled her feet, but she could not let one man’s feelings, no matter how touching or genuine, get another person she knew killed.

She just couldn’t.

* * *

Rook stepped around a pool of pancreas as he studied the large, blackened seal on the cave wall. Taller than he, the etched symbols showed no sign of life. Which, given what happened the last time it opened, was probably a good thing.

Professor Sanu pointed to the center of the seal. “There were rumors of an ancient rune buried deep beneath a landslide.”

“Hmm…” Rook commented. “And an equal number of rumors that said it should never, ever be disturbed.”

Kadie, the student, suddenly went into her haughty act again. Rook supposed it worked on those who liked her pretty face.

“We are scholars,” she said, really stressing the whole scholar thing. “The truth knows no boundaries. The world has a right—”

Rook couldn’t take much more of her holier-than-thou attitude. “The world has gotten along quite fine with this artifact buried deep in these caves.” Rook turned as the torchlight flickered and the air reeked of burnt flesh and dirt. “And for all of your education, you, my dear Kadie, have yet to learn that the only ‘truth’ is that the natives, in fact, do know best.”

As the student sputtered, her professor stepped in. “Looking back, of course, you are right,” he said. He motioned around the cave. “We found this chamber yesterday. Obviously, we didn’t understand its true importance.”

Rook allowed the professor to ramble on as he studied the seal. It was a mixture of so many art forms. And none were the classic derivation. He sensed some were a modified Germanic script, while others looked crudely cuneiform, and, just for giggles, they had thrown in some angel-speak. It would be quite the find, if it didn’t end up killing them.

“We were talking pictures for our stateside translator when the rebels attacked. All of sudden, we found ourselves in the middle of a firefight.”

Rook turned to the professor. “So, you thought… ‘Hey, I’ve got a little time on my hands, so why don’t we take a crack at an ancient buried evil?’ Am I in the ballpark?”

Kadie stepped forward. “This is an important artifact.”

“That just so happened to burst open and cauterize your boyfriend?”

By the way her cheeks blotched and her lips struggled to form a response, it looked like he hit the nail on the head with that guess.

The professor once again stepped in for his volatile student. “As you can see, a line of pictograms surrounds the seal. We were able to partially decode them.” The older man sighed. “We didn’t realize it was such a powerful incantation.… Then… Then, the beast… That creature sprang from the seal, and…”

Yes, Rook knew what happened next. He almost felt a little bit of sympathy for the professor. Rook could remember when he had seen his first demon. He nearly wet his pants. Of course, he had been ten months old at the time, but still.…

Any feelings of commiseration died the second Kadie took a breath to speak. This chick was really getting on his nerves.

“If we’d just had more time…”

“To do what?” Rook asked, as he turned to her. “Like you haven’t done enough damage already?”

But this time, Kadie did not back down. If anything, she seemed galvanized by their argument. “How were we supposed to know?” she demanded. “The seal didn’t exactly come with a warning label.”

“Actually, yes it did. Right here,” Rook said as he pointed to the pictograms above the seal. “Do not open. Hellgate. Bad, researchers, bad.”

Kadie was about to retort when Beauty entered the cave.

“Your expert is here.”

The professor urged Kadie toward the main cave, but she balked.

In an exaggerated bow, Rook stated, “Ladies first.”

Kadie glared at him, but at least it got her moving.

As they left the chamber, Beauty threaded her arm under Rook’s so that they walked out arm in arm. “May I just say one thing about your consultant?”

“Just one?” Rook asked, surprised. Usually, Beauty had way more to say that that.

“Oh là là.”

Even with just one phrase, Beauty could still speak volumes.

* * *

Angela crouched on the toilet seat, holding her breath as a female officer washed her hands at the sink. Not exactly the most convenient time for the most hygienic cop to use the bathroom. Finally, Angela heard the snap of a paper towel being ripped off the roll, and then the clang of the garbage can lid.

Her legs felt weak as she got up from the toilet and sat back down. She stared at the cold, hard metal in her hand. Was she really brave enough to do this? Could she really sacrifice her life for another’s? For Brian? Her mother had been a devout Catholic. Her father? Not so much. But both had believed suicide to be a sin. But how could her ending all of these deaths be wrong? Mr. Nilen had a pregnant daughter. He would never see his grandchild because of her.

It had to end. And end with her. If she couldn’t make death come to her, she would bring herself to its door.

Taking in three sharp breaths, Angela closed her eyes. It would be over quickly. A sharp pain, and then black. She could handle black. Even if she ended up in purgatory like her mother believed, could it honestly be any worse than the shuttered life she was leading now?

Opening her eyes, she cocked the gun. She had best hurry, before anyone discovered her gone. Putting the cold barrel into her mouth, she prayed for forgiveness. Her finger sweated against the trigger. Just one little pull.

Was the room lighting up? Had someone come in, and she didn’t notice? Angela snatched the gun from her mouth as the stall filled with the most brilliant light. So much light that the walls around her receded. It was like standing on a cloud at sunrise. Slowly, a figure materialized before her. Dressed in a robe with enormous white wings at the back, the angel floated before her.

He reached a hand out and caressed her cheek. The touch felt cool, yet calming. “You have suffered greatly, my child.” His voice sounded like butterflies’ wings and a tiger’s roar. “But to all, there is a purpose.”

“What?” she stammered. “How?” Angela did not want to believe it was true. Was this a dream? A way her brain was trying to protect her? Wasn’t she supposed to see the white light after the shot?

But the angel, with his golden eyes and white hair, began to fade. “You must be strong, Angela. That is all I may speak.”

She reached out to the angel, but the sound of the bathroom door slamming open broke the connection. Reality snapped back in place. The dirty tile floor. The grafittied wall of the stall.

“Angela!” Brian called out, as he tested each of the doors. “Angela!”

She didn’t answer. What could she answer? Finally, he kicked open her stall. “Oh, God, Angie…”

It was as if she watched from a perch high above as Brian carefully knelt beside her and gently took the weapon from her limp hand. Once the weapon was secured, he pulled her into a fierce hug.

“This isn’t the answer, Angie.”

Angela heard herself say, “Then what is?”

Because right now, she had no freaking idea. If she lived, she caused death. And if she tried to kill herself? Well, if she were looking for a sign from God, having an angel come down and give you a pep talk was pretty clear.

Brian released her from his hold and smoothed back her hair. His touch was so much warmer than the angel’s. Was there ever really been a figure floating before her?

Brian forced her to look at him. “But there is something I need to tell you.”

Panic replaced confusion. “What?” she asked. “Who else has died?”

“No, no. Nothing like that.”

“Well then what?” she asked, searching his face for clues, but all she found was a some stubble and a concerned look in his eye.

“Remember how they pulled your blood earlier this morning to see if you had been drugged?” She nodded. Of course, she did. She still had the bandage to prove it. Brian continued, “Well, we got the results back.”

Angela waited, but he didn’t finish. “And?”

“And, I don’t know how to tell you this.”

Angela’s mind went to cancer. Could it be cancer? Diabetes? What?

She laid her hands over Brian’s. “Just tell me.”

He looked into her eyes. “Angela, you are pregnant.”

“I can’t be,” she said, as her hands fell away.

“They triple-checked the test. You are pregnant.”

Angela shook her head, breaking from of Brian’s touch. “No, you don’t understand. I can’t be.” She didn’t know why she felt so ashamed when she said, “I am a virgin.”

Brian’s eyebrows created deep furrows. “But you were engaged.”

“Nick and I were waiting until we were married.” It all sounded so stupid now. After everything that had happened, clinging to her good Catholic girl upbringing had brought her nothing but pain.

“No one else?” Brian asked, obviously still not understanding the full extent of the word “virgin.” “An office party?” he suggested. “Did you go out drinking? Maybe someone slipped you a—”

Angela stood up. “With everything that has happened, with people dying around me like poisoned flies, do you really think that I would go out bar-hopping? Hanging out with strange men, let alone, let alone allow them to…”

She couldn’t finish the sentence. She couldn’t even stand up on her own anymore. Luckily, Brian’s arms were there to catch her.

“No, Angela, of course not. I’m sorry.” He gently stroked her hair. “But the tests don’t lie. You are going to have a baby.”

As tears rolled down her cheeks, Angela guessed she did have so much more to cry about and no angel to help explain why.

CHAPTER 3

Rook

Location: Same Damned Cave

Beauty broke from Rook’s arm and positioned herself next to their “consultant.” But how could Rook be insulted? The witch doctor in his full tribal headdress made quite the scene. Beauty could not be crouching any closer to the man without touching him.

“So, do you always do house calls?”

The witch doctor smiled, showing his filed-to-a-point teeth. Yet his speech was a fine, clipped British accent. “For someone as beautiful and charming as you, always.”

Rook feared that Beauty would swoon, but instead, she retied a bandage around Chad’s neck like it was a fashionable scarf.

“TuTi, has Beauty briefed you?” Rook asked.

“No, I have not had that pleasure.”

Beauty opened her lips, which apparently had fresh lip gloss applied to them, but her cell phone rang. She answered, “The happiest Arranger on earth.” Instantly, her smile disappeared, and she offered the phone to Rook. “It’s Savage.”

But Rook waved her off.

Beauty’s expertly plucked eyebrow went up. “The Prime Tervian of the Cabal, the guy in charge of our illustrious organization, wants to speak with you.”

“So?” Rook responded.

“Your uncle isn’t taking ‘no’ for an answer.”

Sighing, Rook accepted the phone from Beauty, then immediately hit the “end call” button. Grinning, he handed it back to her. As he knelt beside the witch doctor and Chad, Rook couldn’t help but notice that Beauty turned off her phone. Guess he wasn’t the only one who didn’t want to talk to old uncle Savage.

TuTi sniffed the vice president’s nephew. The bone piercing his nasal cartilage vibrated with the effort. “Something is wrong. Desperately wrong.”

“Um, you could say that,” Rook said, as he opened Chad’s shirt.

The witch doctor let out a hiss and jumped away.

“Yep. That was pretty much my response,” Rook noted as Chad roused a little, but equally quickly, he went back into his stupor.

Like a cat approaching a snake, the witch doctor snuck forward to examine the symbols more closely. “Why didn’t the guardian stop this?”

“He tried, but he was killed.”

TuTi’s head snapped around. His voice was thick with shock. “How? I mean, Walter was such a nice… guy.”

Rook threw a thumb in Kadie’s direction. “Tell that to the overeager grad student over there. She’s the one who killed him.”

The witch doctor set his eyes upon Kadie. Rook knew that she was pretty damn lucky that TuTi did not have his curse kit on him, or her skin would be boiling off right about now.