Realm Walker (16 page)

Chapter Seventeen

“Where to, boss?” Michael asked as they stood at the end of the alley.

She smiled when a familiar figure came into view. Travesty, the local dealer, stood at his favorite corner. It had obviously been too long since she paid this part of town a visit.

He glanced in her direction and went back to scanning the neighborhood. Then he froze before turning his head slowly back to her. She had the satisfaction of watching him turn several shades lighter than his normal pale. He stepped away from the wall, turning toward her as she approached. He held up his hands in feigned innocence.

“Now, Juliana, I was just resting here. Waiting for my ride. I ain’t got nothin’ on me.” Travesty stuttered when he was nervous and the sentence took him three times longer to get through than it should have.

“Hand it over, Trav,” she told him and held out a hand, flicking her fingers impatiently.

His eyes darted between Michael and her but they both maintained their silence. Finally, Travesty caved. “Shit,” he said with a sigh. He pulled a small bag out of his pocket with two fingers and handed it over. He dropped it in her palm and then turned to the wall, putting palms flat against it, waiting to be frisked and arrested. She popped open the bag and sniffed. Ice.

Michael leaned against the wall watching the scene unfold before him with a wry twist of the lips. She smacked Travesty on the back of the head. “What are you doing dealing this stuff?” She slipped the bag into her pocket and frisked him. Ice got its name not only from its pale blue color, but from the effect it had on the user. This particular combo of drugs and magic literally made the blood run cold. The user detached from reality as the synapses in his brain numbed and shut down. Those who got a bad batch or overindulged had been known to freeze to death in hundred-degree weather.

“Turn around,” she said, stepping back. “Believe it or not, I’m not here to bust you. I need some information.”

Hope blossomed on his face, making her smile. Very rarely she let him off the hook if he proved to be useful. Today she just didn’t want to mess with him. She had a demon to find. “You see anything yesterday?”

“You mean when the mages had everything shut down?”

She nodded.

“Maybe. Just what was I supposed to be noticing?”

“Demon.”

He scratched his chin. “One of my customers was talking about zombies. I told him that was nuts, we ain’t got no zombies around here. Haven’t had for ages. But someone fighting a demon compulsion might look like one from a distance, I guess.”

She decided not to mention that the gaping hole in the host’s head probably contributed to the misidentification. She wanted to talk to the customer, but knew Travesty wouldn’t give her a name. “Anything else?”

He shook his head. “Not really. You know how things are around here.”

“All right, Trav. I guess it’s good enough for today. Quit dealing this crap would you? You’re too smart for that.”

“Whatever you say.” He took a couple of steps away and then turned back. “There’s something else but you probably already know. That zombie, or whatever it was, was carrying around a body. My client said it looked like something had been eating it.”

She stared after him as he walked away, her chest feeling like it’d been stepped on. Her mind tried to process the information it had just been handed. The host was carrying a corpse that looked like it had been gnawed on. A body with a gaping hole in its head maybe? The demon hadn’t carried a body when it left her. But Thomas had carried one back.
Oh
,
gods.

Michael placed a warm hand on her back. “What is it? Breathe.”

She held her hands out slightly to the side and shook them as she gulped air. “Oh, no...no, no, no.”

She didn’t answer him. Didn’t want to put voice to her fears. It couldn’t be true. This was so bad, so extraordinarily, horribly bad. Her fingers fumbled in her pocket as she struggled to get her phone out. With trembling fingers she called James. “Take Sara and Rachel and go to the Apocryphan. Stay there until I call you.”

“What’s going on? Do you need any help?”

She glanced at Michael. “I have plenty. Just take care of our girls.”

Next she typed out a text to Thomas, having to retype several of the letters. She read it over and hit send:

I know what you are.

Moments later, the phone rang—Thomas. She put him on speaker.

“Hello, Juliana.” His low voice wrapped around her like always.

“I’ve been trying to call.”

There was a long pause. “I’ve been...busy.”

“Busy doing what exactly?”

“And why should I share that information with you? You have no authority over me.” His tone was short, clipped.

“I know I don’t.” She kept her voice calm, sweet, betraying none of her inner turmoil. “I was just curious. Don’t be mad.”

He sighed. “I’m not mad. I’m just tired.”

That sounded like Thomas and it made her pause. She couldn’t be wrong about this, could she? “I want to see you. Where are you?”

“Why is it that you are suddenly so concerned about my whereabouts and what I’m up to?”

“Just thought I’d come pick you up so we could go demon hunting.” A noise in the background made her breath catch. She looked at Michael. He shook his head, evidently not hearing what she had. “Was that a scream?” she asked.

“The game is over so soon? How disappointing. Come find me then, Hound. I’ll be waiting.” Then there was the familiar click of a disconnected call.

She snapped her phone shut and headed back down Michael’s alley. “Where’s your car?”

Michael furrowed his brow. “What?”

She gripped his arms in her hands and shook once to get his attention. “Your car.”

“Here. It’s here.” He went over to pound on a large double door set a few feet from the one she’d used earlier. The Neanderthal opened it a crack until he saw Michael. Both doors swung open wide. As usual, Michael owned some low-slung little red sports car she couldn’t identify.

She walked to the driver’s side. “Keys?”

“In the ignition.”

“Where’s he staying?” she asked as she slid behind the wheel.

“At the house.” Michael got in on the other side.

Of course he was. Why wouldn’t he be? She floored the accelerator and flew backward down the alley and into the street. Michael gripped the dashboard, his knuckles white. He closed his eyes as she shifted into first and floored it again.

“I’d forgotten about your driving.” He sounded ill. He cursed when she darted between a couple of midsized sedans. She turned on the highway away from the maze of side streets. Her jaw ached from clenching her teeth together.

“Are you thinking what I think you’re thinking?”

She nodded.

“Shit.” He sat there for a moment. She wasn’t sure if he was done talking or bracing himself to see if she was going to stop for the snarl of traffic in front of them. She didn’t. She jerked the wheel to the right and drove half on the shoulder, half on the grass until she got to their exit.

Once she was back on the pavement, he took a deep breath and said, “So we have a master vampire playing host to a first-level demon. What are we going to do about it?”

“Find him.” It wasn’t much of a plan, but she didn’t know what else to say. Nathaniel was already dead and based on the scream she heard over the phone, the demon was adding to the body count. Fear and desperation dug their claws into her heart, each fighting for dominance over the other.

Her mate was infested, demon-ridden. And with a host like Thomas, the demon would be near impossible to stop. Her only hope lay in the thought that perhaps Thomas was strong enough to fight the demon. That he could maintain enough control to prohibit the invader from going on a rampage. The more people he killed, the harder it was going to be to keep him alive.

* * *

Thomas didn’t know what happened or when. His awareness came only in small intervals and never stayed for very long. Something was horribly wrong. He thought back, searching his memory.

He’d been with Juliana at the Apocryphan. He’d been with her and then...Then what?

Oh, yes. The records.

And then everything had gone black.

When he’d next come around there had been blood. So much blood. And bodies. So many dead that had trusted him. That had depended on him to protect them.

When the blackness came again, he’d welcomed it.

Now, he fought against it. Struggled to maintain some control over his body. This thing inside him was after his bride. “The thing” he called it, but it must be the demon. Had to be, for there was nothing else that could override his control this way.

“I will not let you harm her,” Thomas said. “She is mine and you cannot have her.”

“Wrong, vampire. She is mine. Go back to sleep.”

And the darkness overcame him again.

* * *

Michael and Juliana were silent as they pulled up in front of the gate at the house. It stood undisturbed, no movement, no sound. She climbed out of the car, went over to the keypad and punched in the code she hadn’t used in seven years. The gates slid open, inviting them in and she breathed a sigh of relief. Her ability to open locks only worked on the old-fashioned kind. Anything requiring any kind of technology was beyond her magical skill. If her code worked here, it should still work in the house as well. She would have access to anything. Of course, Michael probably did, too.

They drew their guns and walked through the gates following the driveway to the house. Several cars sat scattered along its length, but there was still no sign of anyone. Her stomach stretched tight with dread. She had to remind herself to breathe. This house was never silent. It was Thomas’s house, but it was also the gathering place for the local coven. At any given time, members of the coven, guests and staff occupied a variety of its twenty-seven rooms. Where was everybody?

Michael reached for the keypad by the front door. She put a hand on his arm to stop him. A smear of blood colored the door near the knob. She pointed it out to him.

He nodded and entered his code then used his fingertips to turn the knob. The foyer was empty, the house silent. Dim light filtered through the curtain, but there were no lamps on. They stepped into the house and shut the door behind them. She sniffed the air. The scent was there but faint. Cinder and ashes.

“He was here, but it’s been a while.”

“How do you know?” Michael glanced at her over his shoulder.

“I can smell him.”

He arched a brow but said nothing.

The entry was a sea of cherry hardwood and cream marble. Papers lay scattered across the floor and up the gently curving staircase. She picked a sheet up and her eyes scanned the typewritten print. She read it twice before she realized what she held in her hand. Grief weighed her down, made it hard to breathe. The page crumpled as she put her hands on her knees and bent forward. This was so much worse than she imagined. That stupid, stupid man. What had he done?

“What is it?” Worry laced Michael’s voice.

She closed her eyes, took a trembling breath and wished she could make things anything but what they were. “It’s my records from the hospital.” The gods only knew how he’d gotten them. Probably one of his minions worked there. She was sure a payment had been made as well. She ran a hand down her face before forcing herself to straighten.

Thomas now knew what happened when he left and he’d found out in the worst possible way. There was the chance he wouldn’t remember any of it when this was over, but she doubted it. He was too stubborn to let the demon take over completely.

She started up the stairs, stepping on more sheets of paper as she went. She followed the trail to the left down the hall to Thomas’s room. Their room. The room she couldn’t bear to return to after she left the hospital. This was the first time she’d even been in the house in seven years.

The door hung loosely on one hinge, resting diagonally across the opening. She holstered her gun and grasped the door in both hands. With a tug, she pulled it loose and set it against the wall to the side. Her gasp was the only sound as the room came fully into view. It was almost unrecognizable.

The destruction centered on the bed and radiated out from there. The mattress, ripped apart, leaked stuffing onto the floor. Shreds of sheets clung to the remains. Splinters of wood surrounded the broken, cracked bed. The bulk of her file was here as well, the pages tossed haphazardly. Everywhere she looked destruction reigned. Cracks spider-webbed across the mirror above the dresser. Drawers were pulled out, emptied, thrown across the room. There was nothing here but misery.

Michael whistled through his teeth when he came up behind her. “This was all Thomas. The demon might have fueled him, but this was him.”

She knew he was right. The demon had no reason to care what happened to her. Her mate did. At least he was still partly in control, or had been. “Where is everybody? I heard screaming over the phone. I know I did.”

He shrugged. “You said he hadn’t been here in a while. Maybe that was after he left. Who knows what he’s been up to. Let’s get busy. There are a lot of rooms to get through.”

After one last look at the bedroom, she ignored the twisting in her gut and followed Michael down the hall. He paused at each door, listening before swinging it open. When they encountered a locked door, one of them used their code to open it. Room after room yawned empty before them. There were no signs of destruction, but there were also no signs of life.

“I don’t think I remember the place ever being this empty before,” Michael said as he opened the door onto their tenth empty room. “It’s eerie.”

At least she wasn’t alone in feeling like she’d been dropped into the middle of a twisted horror movie. “It wouldn’t be so bad if there was some indication that someone had been here. It’s like everyone just vanished.”

Michael swung open the next door. “Ask and ye shall receive.”

She stepped forward and he turned sideways so she could see past him. They still hadn’t found anyone, but they’d found blood. A lot of it. “Okay. That’s not exactly what I meant.”