Realm Walker (15 page)

“Speaking of minions...”

He sighed. “What do you want?”

“Ben gave me a call. Want to go? I promise I won’t tell.” She gave him her best puppy dog eyes. He might not be allowed out until he got a psych clearance, but he was like her, the waiting drove him nuts. Talking to an old lady wasn’t going to hurt him any and it would give him something to do. Besides, she needed to go back to the summoning scene and make sure nothing had been missed. Something of hers had been used to summon the demon and she needed to find out what it was.

When he held out his hand, she handed him the slip of paper with the address.

“I’m only doing this because I feel guilty about trashing your house,” he said, lest she assume he was only being helpful. He stood and gave her a little salute before heading down the hallway. She took the opportunity to hit him square in the ass with a rubber band.

* * *

After she and Jeremiah scoured every inch of the summoning scene and came up with nothing, she dropped the book back off at the Apocryphan for safekeeping. Then she spent the rest of the evening combing the town, looking for the demon. Alone. She’d tried to call Thomas several times, but his phone kept rolling to voicemail. It was well after two when she finally made it to her couch and it was almost dawn when her phone rang, awakening her from her much-needed slumber. If she ever woke up on her own again, she’d consider it a miracle. Cursed phone.

“Yeah?”

“We’ve got another one.” Jeremiah sounded as tired as she felt.

“Hold on.” She grunted as she shoved herself into a sitting position. “All right. What do I need to know?”

“Single victim. Male. He’s one of ours but they haven’t identified him yet.”

Her spine straightened, panic racing along it like imps to a fire. “Then how do we know he’s ours?”

“The demon left a message.” He sounded sick. “You better just come down here.”

“Where am I headed?”

“1346 Rose Lane.”

Her heart stuttered in her chest and she sucked in a painful breath. “Just under the bridge?”

“Yeah. How did you know?”

Nathaniel was dead and it was all her fault. The mantra kept repeating in her head as she waited for the portal. As she stepped through to the yard of a little blue house surrounded by chaos and a white picket fence. As she shoved her way past techs and agents, ignoring those that called her name.

She stumbled across the threshold and ran into someone. Hands grasped her upper arms, shook, demanded her attention. She looked up to find Jeremiah frowning at her. “What is it? What’s the matter?”

“Where?” she breathed. “Where is he?”

His brow furrowed and his frown deepened. He stepped to the side giving her an unobstructed view of the living room. The air froze in her lungs. Her heart slammed to a stop.She closed her eyes, put her hands on her legs and bent forward. She sucked in a tortured breath. Slowly, she raised her head, forced herself to face the massacre before her. There was no other word to describe it.

A shattered, ragged form hung on the far wall, a fireplace poker shoved through the mangled remains of his face to hold him in place. Nothing recognizable remained. No wonder they hadn’t identified the remains yet. A large patch of semi-congealed blood colored the wall behind him and pooled on the floor. Splatters decorated the furniture. But it wasn’t the body that made it hard to breathe, that made her rub her sternum with her knuckles hoping to ease the ache that had taken up permanent residence.

Foot high letters carved into the plaster covered the wall to the right. “Where’s my Walker?” She read the words aloud. Her. It wanted her. Her lips trembled and a sheen of tears blurred her vision. She pushed Jeremiah aside and tripped out the door. Acid boiled in her stomach and burned her throat as she vomited into the bushes. She kept going until there was nothing but dry heaves.

She stood up and wiped her mouth with the back of a shaking hand.

“Who is it?” Jeremiah asked from behind her.

“Nathaniel.” She turned to him. “It was supposed to be me.”

“Don’t think like that. It could have been anyone.”

She shook her head. “You don’t get it. This was my call. I got him to take it for me so I could go home and crash.”

“So this was a trap?” His voice was cold, hard.

It took her a minute to understand what he was saying. Her eyes widened.

“Who told you to come here? Who sent you?”

“I did.” Ben’s voice breaking into their conversation made her jump. “But the woman asked for her.”

“You didn’t tell me that.” She furrowed her brow. “You made it sound like I was doing you a favor.”

He looked pale, uncomfortable. “She didn’t ask for you by name. She asked for a Walker. ‘Maybe that one that saved the mayor last year,’ she said.” He shrugged. “And since you weren’t doing anything, I figured why not.”

She ran a hand across her forehead. She’d managed to keep the mayor from being devoured by a succubus he picked up at a sex club on New Year’s Eve. It got her more publicity than she wanted and the scandal got the mayor fired.
He
probably wished she’d just minded her own business. Some days, so did she.

“Did you trace the call?” Jeremiah asked.

Ben shook his head. “Didn’t realize there was a reason to until right now. I’ll get someone on it.” She watched him walk off with his hands shoved into his pockets.

“You believe him?” Jeremiah spoke close to her ear so only she could hear him.

“I don’t know. I find it hard to believe my boss is working with the demon trying to kill me. I know I’m a pain, but there are simpler ways to get rid of me.”

“Why don’t you go home? We can handle this.”

“I can’t. You know that.” She turned and walked back into the house.

Chapter Sixteen

When she walked in the door later that morning, she fell backwards onto the couch and lay still for several long minutes. She’d saved Nathaniel only to have him killed by the demon anyway. The investigation at the house had yielded few clues. According to the neighbors, the couple that owned the house was on their honeymoon and would be for several more days. Bloody handprints on a sofa where the demon sat to observe his work were the only helpful clue in the whole mess. The only advantage they’d gained from her friend’s death was the knowledge that the new host was humanoid.

She rolled off the couch and plodded to the bathroom. She’d taken a scalding shower when she got home the night before but she needed another one. After adjusting the temperature of the water, she climbed in. Closing her eyes, she shoved her head under the water. She held it there, images of Nathaniel flashing through her brain. Salt coated her lips as hot tears combined with the water running down her face. Sobs wracked her body and she sank to the floor. Wrapping her arms around her knees, she leaned her head against the wall.

Finally, her tears dried, her shaking breaths slowed. And she did something she swore she would never do. She dropped the shielding she wore around her mind like a cloak and reached out for her mate. She tried to call Thomas again while she was still at the scene, but he didn’t answer. Hadn’t answered any of her calls since then. And now when she attempted the only form of contact left to her, she found nothing. Just black emptiness where their connection should be.

He had shut her out. Just as completely and thoroughly as she’d been doing to him for years. Damn him. Couldn’t he pick a more convenient time to throw his hissy fit? Anger chased away the fog of grief enough that she could get back on her feet. As she scrubbed her face with her hands, she put her own shields back in place. She turned off the shower. Water sprayed as she shook her head to get rid of the excess. She stepped out into a cloud of steam and dried herself off. Then she ran the towel down the mirror to clean a section. Her eyes were puffy from crying, her face was drawn and pale.

This case was kicking her ass. With a sigh, she dropped the towel on the floor and headed down the hall to get dressed. Soon she wore her normal work wear of dark jeans, a sleeveless top and army boots. Then she raided the weapons.

On her right thigh she strapped a twelve-inch knife, on her left went two sterling silver stakes. Most Walkers carried wood. She preferred silver because they did double duty on vamps and shifters. A stake through the heart wouldn’t kill a vampire, but it would keep most of the younger ones pinned in place for a time. Her gun, badge and sword completed the ensemble. She slid on a pair of regular sunglasses before stepping out of the house and locking the door behind her. She hoped it stayed secure because she wasn’t coming back until she’d hunted this damn thing down and destroyed it.

She called for a portal to take her to where Thomas had found the corpse the day before. The area had been thoroughly swept but maybe she could find something they’d overlooked.

Once again Juliana found herself on the outskirts of the End. If there was anywhere a demon should feel at home, she guessed it would be Devil’s End. She started walking the streets, unsure of where she was heading, but too keyed up to sit around waiting for a lead.

Briefly she thought about knocking on doors as she passed, but it would be a waste of time. For one, the street patrols would have already done it and for another, no one around here saw anything even if it happened a foot from their face. That’s just the way things worked in the End.

The End was her territory. Whenever the Agency needed to send a representative, they sent her. She wasn’t sure if it was because of her proximity or because they thought she blended in with the locals. Unfortunately, the second option seemed most likely. Even as familiar a face as she was in the area, it was unlikely she would get any more information than the patrols had. Especially when it became known a demon was involved. No one wanted to cross a demon.

A couple of blocks down, at the end of a dark alley, stood a nondescript door with a red rune of a double-armed cross blazing above it. She smiled. That was Michael’s mark. He told her once he’d taken it from the Holy Order of Inquisitioners. She didn’t ask why, there were some things she didn’t want to know about her friends. At least she wouldn’t have any trouble getting information from anyone here. If they knew, they’d tell her.

She knocked on the door. A Neanderthal-looking vampire with one eyebrow answered the door, filling the opening entirely. She didn’t recognize him.

He frowned down at her. “What do you want?”

“Here to see the boss,” she answered.

That one eyebrow rose and he looked her over. “Leave your weapons or you stay here.”

“I stay here then. You go fetch.”

He growled and narrowed his eyes before stepping back and slamming the door. She waited for a ten count and then followed after him.

“Someone’s here to see you, boss. Left her outside,” the Neanderthal said as she crested the stairs. A tall, gaunt blond male with waist-length hair drew two blades and pointed them at her throat. A petite brunette pointed her gun at Juliana’s chest and the Neanderthal flexed his hands into fists as he turned to face her.

At the desk beyond them sat a vampire with brown hair and eyes so dark they were almost black even when he wasn’t in a rage. As usual, he needed a shave. Michael.

“You never call, you never write,” she said, looking at him, but watching the others from the corner of her eyes.

“Leave us.” His eyes never left hers.

The others hesitated only a moment then put weapons away and headed down the stairs.

“What are you doing here?” he asked once they were alone. His voice was odd, remote.

She clenched her teeth. Her anger, already riled by the fact he hadn’t contacted her, flared at the thought he didn’t want her there. Thomas may toss her world upside down, but she’d be damned if she was going to lose one of her best friends because her mate snapped his fingers.

In a blink Michael was around his desk, pushing her body against the wall. He placed his hands on either side of her head, boxing her in. He studied her for a moment before leaning forward. He sniffed her neck, causing her pulse to race more than it already was.

“You smell like Thomas. You’ve had his blood, yet you’ve come to me.” He spoke in her ear. “Why are you here, my friend, when you are truly his again?”

“I don’t see what one has to do with the other. I tried to call you. Important things have been happening.”

He dropped his arms and stepped back. “If they were so important you should have left a message.”

“Some things you don’t leave on voicemail.”

He frowned. “Such as?”

She paused, debating how much to tell him and in what order. “This may take a while.”

“In that case, can I get you a drink?”

“Why not?” She followed him over to his desk and dropped into one of the chairs in front of it. He poured drinks at the bar on the far side of the room.

He handed hers over before sitting with his own. “Talk.”

She swirled her drink and took a sip. “I’ve been demon hunting.”

He sat up straight in his chair. “What kind?”

“If you’re asking what its affiliation is, I have no idea. It could belong to any of the dark gods. I can tell you it’s first-level though.”

“A first-level demon is wandering around in our realm? Are you certain?”

“It reanimated a corpse, talked to me and ran away. Yeah, I’m pretty damn sure.” She suppressed a shudder as an image of the dead inkmage flickered through her brain.

“And you’re positive the host was dead?”

She laughed, a hollow little sound. “I blew out the back of his head. Trust me, he was dead.”

He paused for a moment. “Have you asked your father about this?”

Michael was the only person in her life who knew who her father was. The reasons for this were simple. Number one, she knew he wouldn’t try to kill her simply because her father was one of the gods of the dark fae. Number two, Michael had been sitting beside her hospital bed when her father came calling with her sword strapped across his back. They’d hit it off immediately.

She shook her head. “Didn’t see the point. It’s not his.” Gods only had control over their own demons. Against another god’s they didn’t have any more advantage than she did.

“How do you know?”

“He doesn’t keep demons, doesn’t like them.”

“Well, so much for that plan.” Michael tapped his fingers on the desk. “What else have you got?”

“I was kind of hoping you might have something for me. Anyone see anything odd yesterday after the Gathering perimeter dropped?”

“I should have known James would involve you in that. No one mentioned anything to me, but I will make inquiries.”

“There’s something else.” She hesitated before she told him the rest. “Raoul took potshots at Thomas and me on a roof when we were chasing the demon.”

He leaned forward, his eyes hard. “Are you sure it was him?”

“If you don’t quit asking me if I’m sure about everything, I’m going to kick your ass. And yes, I’m sure. I even double-checked his signature. He’s been damaged though. The entire side of his face was melted. There’s no other word for it.”

“What the hell is he doing here with Thomas around?”

She arched a brow. “That’s the question, isn’t it? And just how coincidental is it that he would arrive in town the same time as a demon?”

He grunted. “I don’t believe in coincidences.”

“Yeah, especially since according to the Librarian, it was summoned for me.”

Michael went still, his eyes studying her. “Does Thomas know this?”

“I haven’t been able to get a hold of him.” She pushed herself to her feet. “I better go.”

He stood suddenly and grinned when she took an automatic step backward. As used to it as she was, his super-fast movements still made her uneasy. “I’m going with you.”

He held up a hand to quiet her before she could say anything. “This isn’t up for discussion. You have no business going after a demon by yourself. You’re going to end up dead for good.”

Striding around the desk, he went past her and down the hall. She followed. When they reached his bedroom, she leaned against the doorframe to watch him gather his things.

He strapped on his weapons, most of them in plain sight. She held up a hand, stopping him when he moved to leave the room. “You can’t go out like that.”

He stepped back and made a show of looking her over from head to toe.

She pointed to her badge. “I have one piece of hardware that you lack. It lets me get away with a lot more.”

He went to the table beside his bed, opened the drawer and pulled out a badge similar to hers.

She frowned. “Where did you get that?”

He grinned. “It’s possible I found it laying around someplace and picked it up.”

“I’m going to pretend we didn’t have this conversation, so I can feign ignorance later.”