Realm Walker (10 page)

“It shall matter very much to them if I ever find out.”

“Surely something you said or did must have given them the idea you were through with me,” she insisted.

He shook his head. “No, I was wallowing in self-pity. They were told not to disturb me except for items of the utmost importance. Namely you.”

She sighed. “And why would they think I was important?” She hadn’t so why would they? He’d never understood just how disliked she was by a good portion of the coven. She was an outsider, an invader. For the most part that changed when she killed Raoul’s lackeys. Oddly enough, it proved she was worthy to be among them. Or some crap like that. She didn’t really care anymore.

“They knew how I felt about you. I made it very clear.”

“And most of them resented my existence. They are vampires, Thomas. You know as well as I that unless you specifically told them to put my calls through, they weren’t going to do it.”

“I did,” he yelled and she cringed from the sound. If that was true, gods help whoever it was if he ever found out. No one disobeyed a direct order from Thomas Kendrick. Well, except her. And Sara. Thomas slammed his hand against the steering wheel.

She sat for several moments without moving or speaking. She spent years convincing herself that she hated him for leaving her. For abandoning her to the monsters. He broke her heart, but the remaining pieces still loved him. As much as that sucked, she couldn’t help it.

He turned dark eyes on her. “What else aren’t you telling me? What secrets are you keeping?”

“If I told you, they wouldn’t be secrets, would they?”

He snarled, revealing fully extended fangs. “You and my sister think it’s so amusing to play with me. To push me to my limits. You always have. I need an answer, Juliana.”

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath before answering. “And I need you to remember that it’s not me you’re pissed at right now. Get yourself under control and maybe we’ll talk. Good night, Thomas.”

* * *

She swung her legs out of the car and her feet thudded against the pavement in the quiet of the night. She took a deep breath as she stood. A piercing, mournful howl cut through the dark causing a cold chill to run up her spine. It was a distant sound, well faded by the time it reached her ears, but her eyes searched for its source out of habit. That’s when she noticed two things.

First, the spot where her bike usually stood was empty. There was no sign of it anywhere. Second, no light shone inside or outside the house. She glanced across the street behind her. Even the lone street light that offered relief from the darkness on her block was out. That in itself wasn’t unusual. Kids were always busting it with rocks or bullets depending on their level of criminal maturity. Combined with the events of the week and the utter lack of illumination from her house however, it was disconcerting to say the least. She wrapped a hand around her gun and readied it.

Chapter Ten

Juliana took a couple of steps toward the house and paused, searching the shadows for any movement.

“What is it?” Thomas asked from just behind her.

“The house is dark,” she answered. “It’s never dark.” The porch had a dusk-to-dawn light and one of the lamps in the living room was on a timer. Never mind the nightlights in the hallway and bathroom. Growing up in a vampire coven had cultivated a paranoid dislike of the dark in her. She wasn’t afraid of
it
per se, just of what it might be hiding.

“The breaker?” Thomas asked, ever the voice of reason.

It was too coincidental that it would trip when she wasn’t home. She didn’t believe in coincidences. “Anything’s possible, but the streetlight’s not attached to my power supply and it’s out, too.”

Thomas glanced at the light in question. Tension tightened his shoulders. He turned back and gave her a small nod.

She rolled her shoulder and flexed her arm, testing her injuries. Not healed but good enough.

“I will be accompanying you to the door, Juliana. I will brook no argument on the matter.” His voice was hard. She had no doubt he would have ordered her to stay in the car if he thought it would do any good.

She shook her head. “You’re not accompanying me anywhere. You’re going around and coming in the back.”

He rested a hand on her spine and placed a chaste kiss on the back of her neck. “Be careful,” he said in her ear and then he was gone.

She fired up her gift but saw nothing other than the signatures of a couple of small animals. Most likely rats knowing the neighborhood. She crouched down, moving low to the ground. When she reached the door, she stood to one side and tried the knob. Locked. A twitch of her fingers and it gave way. She threw open the door.

Peeking around the doorframe she saw nothing except one bright lavender-blue signature down the hall by the back door that hung crookedly from one hinge. Thomas. He tilted his head in question.

“Door to your left. The box is on the back wall,” she told him.

He moved so fast his signature was a blur of color. Seconds later the nightlights flared to life and she shut down her gift. She didn’t need it to see the disaster that used to be her home. She flipped the switch on the wall next to her.

Thomas appeared back in the hallway, the lines at the corners of his eyes drawn tight with worry as he looked around at the destruction. “Were they looking for something?”

She grunted. “Yeah. Me.” Her house hadn’t been searched, it had been demolished. Claws shredded her couch, tore into the walls. Large claws. She was going to be hard pressed to find anything salvageable. She walked through the living room, stepping over things in her way and doing a mental inventory of everything that would need to be replaced. The tally made her head spin and she wondered how much she could get the Agency to pick up. Surely this would count as work-related destruction.

She laid a hand against the burning pit of her stomach. The sanctity of her home had been violated. This was her space, her life. It wasn’t much but it was hers. No, not someone, a demon. A demon powerful enough to tear through the wards that protected her home as if they were paper. She was so screwed.

A well-placed kick sent a speaker bouncing off the wall. It wasn’t as if anything would be in worse shape from her abuse. She might as well take the opportunity to vent some frustration.

Digging her fingers into her hair, she pressed them into her scalp as she ran them back and down to her neck. She huffed out a breath and dropped her hands then headed across the hall to her office. Her sword still hung above the front door and appeared to be the only thing untouched. She ran a finger along the length of it as she passed.

The office looked no better than the living room. In fact, it might have been worse. Every article of clothing she owned was destroyed, shredded. She didn’t look too closely at the clothes by the dresser, content in her ignorance of what had been done to her undergarments.

She went down the hall to the bathroom. Her mirror had been struck, leaving a spider web of cracks behind. Carved into the wall beside it was one word,
Pup.

“Pup?” Thomas asked, appearing in the door behind her.

“Nathaniel.” She choked on the word. “They call us hounds, right? The first time they assigned me to work with Nathaniel, he was mad. Said I was more puppy than hound. Granted I was young and untried. I wouldn’t have been happy either in his shoes. When I proved myself to him, showed I wasn’t going to be a liability, he turned Pup into a nickname instead of an insult.”

“Nathaniel?”

“My demon-ridden werewolf.” Her heart froze for a beat and panic scrambled inside of her as she remembered the one thing Nathaniel knew that no one else did. She pushed Thomas aside. Running down the basement steps, she jumped the rail at the bottom. A bloodstained block was set in the wall behind the stairs. She laid her hand against it and closed her eyes. “Let me pass.”

The wall shifted, making a hole big enough for her to walk through. She held her breath and stepped into her sanctuary. She released it only when she saw that, at least here, nothing had been disturbed. Thomas walked up behind her but she didn’t look at him. She ran her eyes over everything, making sure all was in place. The wall to her left served as the armory. In front of her, there was a portable closet, her workbench and supplies. To her right stood the only bed in the house.

If Nathaniel was still strong enough to hide this place from the demon, there was hope she could get him through this. She started pulling things from the shelves to her left and piling them on the workbench.

* * *

Thomas watched her move around the room. He arched a brow at the impressive arsenal. Perhaps that was why she lived in this hovel—she spent all of her money on weaponry. “Not that I can fault you for making sure you are well protected, but if you accessed my accounts you could have had a nice home, as well. In a better neighborhood. Where people don’t break in and destroy your house.”

She flicked her hair out of her face and glared at him. “I live here because I choose to. If I wanted to live somewhere else, I could. Without any help from you.” She picked up a knife and looked it over before tossing it on the bed. “And my house is heavily warded. Nothing should have been able to get in here without my permission.”

“I felt no warding.” He’d have to make sure his personal wardsmiths came over to set new ones once her house was put to rights. Obviously the ones she could afford weren’t up to the task.

“Because it stripped them all.”

Which it wouldn’t have been able to do if the wards were set properly. There was no point in discussing it further with her. He didn’t need her permission to see she was taken care of. He eyed the bed where she was laying out her belongings. “This is where you sleep?”

“Not unless I have to. That’s what the couch is for.”

He clenched his teeth until his jaw ached. Anything to deny him. Her bed in his home was dressed in silks and satin and she would rather sleep on a couch. “And your werewolf? He knows about this room? How to get in?”

She nodded.

Never once did she stop gathering her things. “You can’t stay here.” It was obvious she was planning on going somewhere but he had to say it. Had to be sure she wasn’t that stubborn.

She grabbed a small silver flask from a drawer and proceeded to fill it with a bottle of Irish whiskey sitting along the back edge of the table.

“What are you doing?”

“Blessed flask.”

He blinked at her. “Aren’t those intended for water?”

“Yep.” She grabbed two more flasks from a different drawer, pocketing one and handing him the other.

She snatched a duffel out of the bottom of the closet and loaded the weapons into it. When she finished she tossed fresh clothes from the closet onto the bed. “I need to change.”

He studied her for moment, thought about telling her it wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before and wouldn’t see again. But his bride deserved better of him. He faced the wall. “You aren’t going after him tonight. You need rest.”

She stepped past him and out of the room. Black adorned her from head to foot. In one hand she carried her bag and in the other a leather trench coat. It was warm for the duster, but one never knew when a weather mage might conjure up a cold snap.

The wall shut behind them. She dropped her things at the top of the stairs and retrieved a sword from above the door. It was a beautiful piece of weaponry. Thomas couldn’t recall if he’d ever seen its equal.

“I’ve got to call this in. And I am going to look for Nathaniel. You can argue or you can come with me. Your choice.” She grabbed her bag and headed out the back door.

Thomas took a deep breath. His bride was not hunting a demon-ridden werewolf. Especially while she was still recovering from an injury. He was also certain that she hadn’t stopped for a moment to absorb what had happened since she walked in the house. He followed her to the back porch and turned her to face him. He cupped her face in his hands and looked into her eyes. “Breathe,
Joya
. Just breathe. Calm yourself.”

She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. When she opened them, his heart clenched at the plea he saw there. “Please.”

That’s all she said. One word. He didn’t even know what she was asking, but she asked. Unable to deny her, he said, “I’m here. Whatever it is you wish.”

She nodded once then turned her head so he was forced to let go. Stepping away from him, she pulled out her phone. A scowl marred her features and she reached back in the house and flipped the light on. Several dark shapes dotted the lawn. It took him a moment to realize they were pieces of her motorcycle.

* * *

“Cursed demon,” she muttered and turned the light back off so she wouldn’t have to look at the destruction any longer. She turned on her gift so she could see if anything tried to sneak up on them. Not that it would be any help with the demon, but it made her feel more secure.

She called Ben’s cell phone. “It trashed my house.”

“Wasn’t it warded?”

“Of course, it was warded. It was warded up the ass. If they went off, they didn’t do anything to deter them. I think the demons shut them down.”

“You better come in. I’ll tell Doc to get a bed ready for you.”

“Find somewhere else.”

“I’m not sure there is anywhere else.” His tone was distracted and she knew he was running through a mental list of all the beds in the Agency.

“It doesn’t matter.” She waved a hand through the air in impatience. “Figure something out. The bike’s in pieces, too. I’ll call when I need a portal.”

“I’ll send one now.”

“Not yet. I’m going after Nathaniel.”

“Damn it, Norris.” Ben paused, probably calming himself so he didn’t scream. “I’ve already got enough people crawling all over me because of you. Come in and get some rest. You said you wouldn’t go after him for twenty-four hours. Actually I believed I ordered you not to.”

All the more reason to do it. “I’m fine. Besides, I’m not alone.” She hung up. The phone began to vibrate. She ignored it and looked at Thomas, daring him to deny her.

He opened the passenger door with a bow. “Your carriage awaits.”