Realm Walker (6 page)

He pressed the earpiece. “The two teams closest to the basement report there immediately.”

She moved past him and out of the room. There were four more doors in the short hallway. The first door on the left opened onto a rather dingy bathroom and she made a mental note to go upstairs if she needed to use the facilities. The other door in that direction bore a padlock and a large yellow sign proclaiming Danger. Probably the boiler room. She left it for now; she could always go back if she needed to.

Jeremiah leaned against the wall next to the laundry room waiting for the agents to emerge from the elevator. Just beyond him was a marked stair access. The remaining door stood at the end of the hall—Storage emblazoned on it in thick black letters. Trepidation dogged her steps as she approached the room.

The smell hit her when she was still a foot away. Cinder and ashes mixed with blood and death. An aroma she’d smelled too much of that morning. The elevator announced the arrival of the other agents with a ding as she drew her gun.

“Get some techs down here,” she said to no one in particular. She twisted the knob—locked. She looked over her shoulder at the other agents. “Go to the other end and check out those rooms.”

As soon as their backs were turned, she ran her fingers over the lock. There was no reason for everyone to know doors weren’t always unlocked like she stated in her reports. A glance back showed Jeremiah purposely looking away from her. He couldn’t comment on what he didn’t see.

She already knew she wasn’t going to like whatever awaited her in the room. She took a deep breath in through her mouth and swung the door open. The full impact of the odor was like an ogre punch to the gut. She snapped her head to the side as she gagged. Her eyes watered. She coughed as she holstered her weapon and covered her nose with the neck of her shirt. It didn’t help much. Her eyes flicked around the room taking in the whole scene, but avoiding the details for the moment.

Two bodies, a summoning circle, candles, blood...lots of blood. The shreds of a shirt to the side indicated where Nathaniel shifted into his half-form. Juliana fired up her gift and the room swam in the black of the summoning magic mixed with the orange-yellow of the spell caster. A witch.

“Gods damn it.” She spat the words.

“What?” Jeremiah asked as he moved up behind her.

She glanced over her shoulder to find him smearing vapor rub under his nostrils. He held it out to her and she snatched it gratefully from his hand. It didn’t completely obliterate the smell, but it helped. She jerked a thumb in the direction of the circle. “Would-be mages.”

His forehead creased. “Witches summoned a demon? Idiots.”

She nodded her agreement. More witches died trying to do magic beyond their ability than anything else. Humans with some magic ability were witches; they could be male or female. Mages, however, were Altered and their signatures leaned toward reds or pinks. Witches scanned orange and the weaker their magic, the more toward human-yellow the color.

She stepped into the room to get a better look at the circle. Drawn on the floor in thick, charcoal black strokes, it took up most of the room. Several symbols around the perimeter—four larger than the others—caught her eye. Icy fingers of fear crawled up her spine and dampened her palms. This was dark magic they played with, even for a summoning. She stepped into the center of the circle and spun, viewing the room as the demon would have when it answered the summons.

It was times like this that she wished she’d undergone formal training for her mage abilities. She’d picked up a trick or two along the way, but not enough to be of any real help. She had studied enough about magic, both for her job and just out of sheer curiosity, to know what she was looking at, however. She pointed on the symbol on the floor between her and Jeremiah. “Master.” She spun clockwise pointing to each of the larger symbols in turn. “Witness. Summoner. Sacrifice.”

“Sacrifice? How did they get someone to agree to that?”

She eyed the body near the symbol, the wash of color protecting her from the grisly details of his demise. “Most likely they didn’t tell him. The Master may not have told anyone.”

He scratched his head. “Wouldn’t the Summoner be in charge?”

Crouching to get a better look at one of the symbols, she shook her head. “Not necessarily. Have you looked at our vics? They’re young.”

“So?”

Standing, she brushed her hands off on her jeans. “This is old magic. Fae magic. They shouldn’t have known the spell, let alone attempted to perform it.”

She gestured to the symbol for Master again. “Masters don’t become hosts. They give the commands, they don’t take them. The Summoner would have called the demon, the Master would have told the demon the reason he had it summoned and the Sacrifice would have tied the demon to the Master. Either of them might have killed the Sacrifice depending on the nature of their agreement.”

“And why exactly do you suppose it was called?”

“Why are they ever called? Either someone was stupid enough to think the demon could grant a wish, or to think the demon would give him power, or smart and sadistic enough to know precisely what the demon would really do.” She shook her head. “They summon them to go on killing sprees, to kill wives, to murder bosses, who knows. We obviously aren’t going to get any answers out of the practitioners.”

With a sigh she ran a hand through her hair. “I would assume once the Sacrifice was killed, that’s when the other one ran. Nathaniel must have heard something, came to investigate and ended up demon-ridden for his efforts.”

“Wrong place, wrong time?” Jeremiah asked. “Yeah, that sounds about right for Nathaniel.” As much as she didn’t want to agree with him, she had to. Nathaniel had a knack for getting himself into trouble. Unfortunately he wasn’t as skilled at getting himself out of it.

The summoning circle was complete, whole, except for a foot-long gap where the Master’s symbol stood. She tapped next to the opening with her foot. “Whoever wanted this demon called up is the one that broke the circle. He never planned on the other witches living. Or it’s possible he’s not even a practitioner, that he hired them to do the work. We need to get James over here to look at this.”

James, Thomas’s brother-in-law, was also an inkmage and the leader of the Gathering. The Gathering was the mage equivalent of the vampire Council, only much larger and more structured. The mages made the mafia look like amateurs. It was also what they called themselves as a whole. Mages were much more into the whole solidarity and unity thing than the vampires were. Community was very important to the mages, but Juliana had never been able to decide if she wanted to be a part of it or not. Hence, the reason she was still untrained despite James’s many offers to teach her.

“Look at this,” a voice said from the side of the room, drawing her attention. One of the agents—human from the looks of his signature—pointed at something on the far side of the room. A book with dark pages, a large tome of some sort, lay open on top of a box. Its pages fluttered in the breezeless room. Just the sight of it enraptured her, enthralled her. Too late, she noticed it had the same effect on the agent. He reached a gloved hand forward.

“Don’t touch—” The words were sucked from her throat along with the air from her lungs as one finger touched the page and power swamped the room in a wave. Colors blazed across her vision. Pain exploded behind her eyes. Wincing, she shut her gift down. Even without it, the room was lit in a putrid green light.

Arcs of power shot from the page and wrapped around the arm of the agent like lightning bolt snakes. A wind swept through the room howling as it went and bringing with it the smell of ozone and rain. It made it impossible to hear anything less than a scream. “Get everyone out,” she yelled at Jeremiah and moved toward the human.

“What are you doing?” Jeremiah shouted back, only to scream, “No!” as she threw herself at the other agent.

The power released its hold as contact was lost but the trap had already been sprung and the spell continued to rage around them. A crack of thunder boomed in the room making her ears ring. Cold rain began to fall from nowhere, the brutal wind turning each drop into a blade slicing into her skin. Jeremiah hurried over and she pushed the shell-shocked man into his arms. “Get him out of here.”

Jeremiah shook his head. “Not without you.”

Adrenaline and a giddy feeling of expectation pumped through her veins, helping her ignore the pain in her arm. This was the part of the job that she loved, that she was good at. She grinned at him. “I’ll be along in a moment, Dad. Go.” When he hesitated, she added, “That’s an order.”

The muscle in his jaw twitched, but he nodded once and did as instructed. Turning back to the book, Juliana squinted against the force of the wind and the rain. Another peal of thunder rolled through the room and an involuntary cringe had her hunching over in response. This was screwed up. And it was obliterating her evidence.

If she closed the book, there was a possibility the spell would terminate. Maybe. But closing the book without touching it, that would be the real trick. She studied it, deciding on her next move. Large bolts of lightning shot from the page to the ceiling with an electrical hiss. She was out of time. Hopefully no one was directly above this room.

If the summoning spell came from the book, then at least part of its magic was dark fae. Dark fae magic wouldn’t kill her. She hoped. “Screw it.” She dived for the book. Her hands wrapped around the edge of the covers as she tried to force it closed. It resisted with every ounce of its power. Shards of pain shot up her arm and fresh blood started to run from her wound.

Whips of lightning wrapped around her body and lifted her off the floor. Tongues of fire lapped her skin. Her heart sped and the soles of her feet tingled as she neared the ceiling. The floating didn’t worry her near as much as the landing.

Blood trickled down her arm and she twisted, trying to keep it from touching the book. Some spells were fed with blood and she didn’t want hers adding to the power if that was the case. Despite her struggles, the magic kept her bound to the tome in her hands. She watched helplessly as one red drop ran down her wrist and onto the page. Instead of fueling the spell as she’d feared, it had the opposite effect. The book slammed shut with a resounding bang.

She wrapped her arms around it to keep it closed. The force of the spell terminating tossed her backward through the air. Her head bounced off the wall. Stars flashed across her vision. Nausea welled.

Jeremiah’s face popped into view. “Juliana?”

“Don’t let anyone touch this book,” she heard herself say. Then everything went black.

Chapter Six

Thomas hung up the phone convinced his conversation with his fellow Council member Catalina had been a success. The Council would place a call to the Agency and suggest Juliana would be better suited for less dangerous work. She would never have to know he was behind it. And the gods help him if she ever found out.

The phone on the table beside him buzzed and he frowned. Michael had been most displeased when Thomas had taken possession of it. He supposed it had been a petty thing to do, taking away the easiest way for Juliana to contact her lover, but Thomas found himself unable to work up any guilt over his actions.

He snatched it from the table. The screen showed a text from Sara Piper. His sister.

J’s in the infirmary.
Nothing serious.
Just letting you know.

Thomas’s stomach tightened in aggravation and fear. There was no question in his mind that “J” was Juliana. And his sister was texting Michael about it instead of him. Even though she knew he was in town. He’d told her himself last night. His sister and he would have words later. But right now, he needed to check on his bride. He knew if she had a choice she would be anywhere other than the infirmary.

* * *

By all the dark gods
,
where was the infirmary?
He’d been walking this cursed hallway forever. He could never remember where anything was in the Agency. He got turned around every time. Finally he came to a garishly decorated room with the sign Waiting Room hanging beside the door. The four people inside were clearly worried about someone.

“Where’s the infirmary?” he asked, the words coming out sharper than he’d intended. All four of them looked at him, the three men narrowing their eyes.

“Can we help you?” one of them asked. He was one of two younger men who had to be twins.

“I believe I already made that clear. Where is the infirmary?”

“Why do you want to know?” the other twin asked.

He did not have to answer to these men. But perhaps if he told them why he was here, they’d take pity on him and just give him directions. “It is my understanding that Juliana Norris was injured. I am here to check on her.”

“You’ll wait here like the rest of us then.” This came from the bald man with red skin. Undoubtedly a fire elemental of some sort.

Thomas fisted his hands at his sides to keep from clawing out the man’s throat. Who were they to keep him from Juliana? “You will tell me where she is.”

The twins stood in unison, one of them moving toward him. “Listen, I don’t know who you are, and I don’t care. You’re no more important than the rest of us. Either sit down or leave.”

Fury clouded his vision. The muscles in Thomas’s legs tightened in preparation to launch him at the infidel’s throat. A hand pressed against his chest, pushed him into the wall.

Confusion tore through the anger. He managed to corral his rage enough to realize Michael had intervened. His fury flared again, this time with a new target.

Michael leaned forward, stopping inches from Thomas’s face so he could see nothing but the man before him. “Enough. This is her family in all but blood. She’ll never forgive you,” he said in a voice pitched so only Thomas could hear.

Thomas looked beyond his second to the others in the room and his heart flooded with unwelcome sorrow. He’d been her family once. Her whole life. Now he wasn’t even welcome here. He pushed Michael’s hand away and straightened from the wall. Michael looked at him for a minute more and then turned and nodded to the family.

“Jeremiah, Anna, boys.”

Thomas clenched his teeth together so hard, his jaw ached. Michael knew them. Of course he did. Thomas turned and walked out of the room without uttering a word.

* * *

Juliana opened her eyes to find a depressingly familiar stain above her head.

“You know,” a voice said from beside her, “as much as you hate the infirmary, you’d think you’d try harder to avoid ending up here.”

She turned her head to find Dr. Oliver Daniels frowning at her as usual.

She sighed. “I’ll work on that, Doc. What’s the damage?”

“You somehow managed to avoid a concussion, but the power drain from that spell was massive. And your arm should have been treated here, not in the field.” He flipped through her chart, avoiding eye contact. He was keeping something from her.

Her right arm lay strapped against her chest so she pushed herself up with the left. The arm was blessedly numb. Juliana figured it was mostly healed already, but if Doc wanted to make sure she felt no pain, she wasn’t going to argue with him. She’d had enough of that for a few days. She swung her legs off the bed and sat on the edge to get her bearings.

“Take it easy. You aren’t fully recovered yet. You’ll be weak for a couple of days at least.”

He was overestimating her recovery time. At least she hoped he was. She healed fast. She ran a hand over her face in an attempt to wipe the weariness away, but it didn’t help. Fatigue penetrated to her very bones. No part of her wanted to move. She squeezed her eyes shut then opened them as wide as she could. Anything to feel more alert. A coffee IV wouldn’t have been remiss at that point. “Just how extensive was this power drain? And what can you give me to fix it?”

“Not everything has a quick fix,” he snapped at her. “That spell leached an enormous amount of energy off you. I’m surprised you’re even sitting here talking to me.” His voice turned quiet, reluctant. “The agent who triggered the spell died hours ago and his exposure was much shorter than yours.”

Her chest tightened at that bit of news. She didn’t even know the guy’s name but she’d done her best to save him. She never understood why humans wanted to work for the Agency. There was a time when they hadn’t been allowed, but an anti-discrimination lawsuit killed that policy. Now plain, ordinary humans were allowed to sign up and go through the program to become agents. Their life expectancy was decidedly short once they finished training.

“What about me? Did I die?” she asked. When he didn’t answer, she glanced over her shoulder at him.

He studied her for a moment, his salt-and-pepper goatee twitching in agitation. “I’ve never understood how you can be so blasé about that.”

She shrugged one shoulder. It was better to pretend it didn’t bother her. If they knew the truth she’d be waiting on psych clearances more than she was in the field. “I’m resilient and that doesn’t answer my question.”

He ran a hand through his hair and tossed her chart on the table. “Not this time, but it was close. When they brought you in your heart rate was fifteen beats per minute. It remained steady until about an hour ago when it returned to normal.”

Thank the gods. She hated when she died, especially when she didn’t remember it. So far the count was three. If she was limited to nine lives like a cat, she was going to be seriously screwed in a few years. She rubbed a hand across the back of her neck and sighed. “I’ve got to talk to Ben,” she said and stood. Her knees buckled as they took her weight and she caught herself on the table with her elbow.

Doc grabbed her other arm and pulled her upright. He kept his hand there until it was evident she wasn’t going to keel over. “You almost died, Juliana. Surely you can take a break for, oh I don’t know, ten minutes or so?” The bitterness in his voice surprised her and she studied him. He dropped his head and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, but you have no idea how tired I am of patching you guys up only to have you back in here a day or two later. You just keep putting yourself in danger, damn the consequences.”

Her mouth curled in a smile. “It’s kind of our job. Besides, you haven’t lost me yet.”

“Yes, we have. More than once.” He shook his head. “And when you do recover, we don’t have anything to do with it. We just assess and treat, then stick you in a corner to see if you come around or not. I’ve tried to figure it out, to discover the science or the magic behind it and I can’t. It’s odd.”

Nothing made her day quite like having her oddities pointed out. It was time to go.

“Juliana,” he said, stopping her when she got to the door. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I just don’t like not knowing what’s going on with my patients.”

She thought for a moment, not wanting to make promises she couldn’t keep. “I’ll try to be careful, but I have to go after Nathaniel.”

She walked out of the room without waiting for a response. The cool tile under her feet reminded her she was barefoot and in scrubs. Juliana didn’t care as long as it wasn’t a gown. She and the doc had a rather loud discussion about it the first time he treated her. She’d woken up in scrubs ever since. She tried not to think too much about how she got into them or how much was on display in the process.

She would find Nathaniel and bring him back, of that she had no doubt. She just wasn’t sure the condition he would be in when she did. The odds were against her. Fewer than ten percent of hosts survived intact. Fewer than thirty percent survived at all. But she’d never been one to play the odds.

The waiting room for the infirmary lay on the path to Ben’s office. Not only would Jeremiah be there, so would his wife and both boys. Jeremiah might not look a day over thirty but he’d been married to Anna for seventy years. And his boys were in their fifties.

Hushed whispers drifted out of the room. She couldn’t make out the words, but she picked up the worried tone easy enough. She stepped into the doorway and leaned against the frame. They were so focused on each other they didn’t notice her. The boys sat at one of the pale blue tables playing cards while Jeremiah and Anna occupied two of the bright orange chairs lined up against the pea green wall. The color combination made her eyes hurt. The Agency really needed to hire new decorators.

Jeremiah slumped forward, his head cradled in his hands. Anna rubbed circles on his back with one thin hand. “She’ll be okay, my love. She always is.” Something about the way she said the words told Juliana it wasn’t the first time they’d passed Anna’s lips. A fist of regret lodged in Juliana’s breastbone.

She accepted the risks her job brought with it, the price she had to pay on occasion to bring in her target, but she hated what it did to those who loved her. While the list was small, the people on it were fiercely loyal and every time she hurt, so did they.

Jeremiah shook his head without looking up. “One time I’m going to get to her too late and she won’t be. It’s been over a day.”

Her jaw clenched at that bit of news. All kinds of unpleasantness had probably gone on while she took her extended nap. She wanted to argue with Jeremiah’s grim assessment of her future, but she couldn’t. He was right. Besides, he’d worn a lot of her blood. He’d earned the right to freak out a little when it came to her.

“Gods, Jeremiah. Don’t you ever sleep? You look like crap,” Juliana said.

All four of them locked gazes on her. There was a moment’s pause and then they swarmed her. “Easy,” she warned the brothers when they went to wrap her in their usual bear hugs. Despite their gentleness, pain coursed through her body with every jostle. She forced her face to remain relaxed, to let none of the discomfort show. They’d be devastated if they thought they’d hurt her.

The boys stepped back. Anna placed her hands on the sides of Juliana’s face and looked into her eyes. “All right then?”

“All right.”

Juliana pretended not to see the sheen of tears in Anna’s eyes as they hugged.

Jeremiah took her place when she moved away. He said nothing, just stood in front of Juliana and looked at her. She stepped forward to lay her head on his chest and he wrapped his arms around her. He was always so warm. All fire elementals were, for obvious reasons. He held her for a long moment with no one saying anything, but she felt the tremble in his hands.

Anna once told her that she was as much a part of the family as their own children. Juliana thought about how many times Jeremiah had brought her here hurting or half-dead and how many times these same four people were waiting for her when she woke up. Tears lodged in her throat and she swallowed them back down. She stepped back to keep from crying.

Jeremiah cleared his throat and handed over her phone. “I called Sara. Told her you were fine. Thanks for not making me a liar.”

She scrolled through the missed calls, frowning when she saw the same number over and over again. Thomas. It had to be. She cleared her calls and looked at the little family in front of her.

Anna was a head shorter than Jeremiah with flaming red hair and brilliant green eyes. She’d been a Celtic demigoddess of love once upon a time and she looked it. She’d given it up when she fell in love with a fire elemental from northern Africa. Not that one could ever quit being a demigod, but she’d retired from the responsibilities that had come with her former position. No more matchmaking for her. Unless it was Juliana or one of her sons, then the gods help them.

Their boys were both bigger than Jeremiah, broader through the shoulders. Their pure black hair was set off by the pale skin and green eyes they’d inherited from their mother. Twins. Gorgeous twins. Simon and Seamus would never be more than friends to her, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t appreciate the view. Especially when the gods were nice enough to give it to her twice.

“You had some other visitors, dear,” Anna said looking sheepish. “One of them ran off before we caught his name. The other one was Michael, but he was only here a moment. We told him we’d have you call when you woke up.”

“The other one was another vamp,” Seamus piped in. “He came in here acting like you were no one’s concern but his, but I’d never seen him before.”

Her heart sped. There was only one person it could be. She didn’t want to care that Thomas had been there. That he’d been possessive of her. But she did. She groaned as she realized how horribly disappointed she would have been if he hadn’t come by. Curse him.

“I was ready to escort him out when Michael showed up and they both left,” he finished.

She looked at Anna. “My vampire’s back in town. So far he hasn’t received the welcome he anticipated.”

Her eyebrows crawled into her hairline. “Well, you have had an interesting few days. We really must talk more often.” She kissed her husband’s cheek. “You better go talk to Ben. I’ll see you at home when you’re finished.”