Defeat the Darkness (2 page)

Jarvis hit the steering wheel with his fist. “Damn it all, Hunter, don't talk that way. Even with that leg of yours, you're still a better fighter than most Paladins and all of the guards.”

“I'm glad someone thinks so.” Because he definitely didn't. And it wasn't because of his leg.

“Give yourself time, Hunter. It's only been a couple of months.” He reached into the backseat. “I've got something for you.”

He handed Hunter a long, narrow box wrapped in
brightly colored clown paper and tied up with a big red bow. “You can thank Jake for the paper. Gwen did the bow.”

Hunter stared at the gaudy package, his stomach doing somersaults over the possibilities. Everyone knew his sword had been broken. That didn't mean he was ready for another one that he might actually have to use.

“Go ahead and open it. It won't bite.”

Hunter didn't need to look at Jarvis to know there was sympathy in his eyes; it was there in his voice. God, he hated that his fear was so obvious to his friends. To avoid further conversation, he tugged on the ribbon, and then ripped into the paper.

As he wadded it up and threw it into the back of Jarvis's Chevelle, he said, “Tell Jake Seattle isn't all that far away. I can and will get back at him for the clowns.”

Jarvis's grin was wicked. “I'm sure he's counting on it.”

Finally, when Hunter couldn't put it off any longer, he lifted the lid off the box. His throat closed up as he looked at what lay nestled in the tissue paper. If Jarvis thought Hunter was on the mend, why had he given him a cane? It was a beauty, all right, made out of black wood, maybe even ebony. The handle was a wolf's head carved out of ivory. Beautiful, yes, but a symbol of Hunter's weakness.

“Now, before you get the wrong idea, let me explain.” Jarvis lifted the cane out of the box. “This belonged to my grandfather. Just like now, the authorities back in the day frowned on folks carrying a sword in public.”

He pushed a small button at the top, then pulled on the handle, drawing out a razor-sharp sword. “My father said his dad had this custom-made. I figure you're not
always going to need a cane, but this will allow you to carry a weapon with no one being the wiser.”

Okay, so maybe the gift was acceptable after all. Hunter took the cane back from Jarvis. The wood was silky smooth, and the wolf's head fit his hand perfectly. “I'll take good care of it.”

“More importantly, it will take good care of you. Now get going or you'll miss your flight.”

Hunter reached for the door handle. At the last second, he reached out his hand to Jarvis. “Thanks for everything.”

Jarvis didn't immediately let go. Instead, he tugged Hunter closer for a quick man-hug, the kind that said what neither of them had words for. For once, the brief intimacy didn't make Hunter want to dive for cover.

“I'll email you when I have an address and a new cell number.”

“You'd better. If I don't hear regularly, I'll send Jake out there to kick your ass.”

Hunter laughed as he got out of the car, mostly because it was expected. Then he retrieved his duffel and tucked his new cane inside to avoid any awkward questions from security. Waving over his shoulder, he disappeared into the crowd and left his world behind.

Devlin Bane sat at his desk with the phone to his ear. The wall behind him was covered with an interesting array of weapons. Hunter should probably be impressed, but he wasn't. Paladins collected swords and guns like other people did stamps. What did impress Hunter, though, was how much Devlin reminded him of Jarvis Donahue.

They were both big men, but then so was he. No, it was in the steady gaze that said they could see right through to the heart of a man. No doubt Devlin possessed the same highly developed bullshit meter that kept Jarvis one step ahead of both the Regents and the Paladins that served under him.

Okay, so maybe he could deal with Bane.

Devlin hung up the phone. “Sorry about that. I've been waiting all morning for that call.”

“No problem.” Hunter had nowhere he needed to be, nothing he was expected to do.

“I'd ask how your trip was, but I won't. For one thing, I'm not much into small talk. For another, I'd rather get to the point.” Devlin's green eyes narrowed as his gaze met Hunter's head-on.

“Which is?” Hunter settled back into his chair, forcing his muscles to relax.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

So, okay, maybe Jarvis hadn't smoothed the way as much as Hunter had thought. Fine. If he wasn't wanted, he'd leave. But before Hunter could move a muscle, Devlin started talking again. He ran his fingers through his shoulder-length hair, frustration clearly driving him.

“Sorry, that came out sounding worse than I meant for it to. I know you needed to put some distance between you and the barrier in Missouri. Jarvis filled me in on what happened.” He pegged Hunter with a hard stare. “By the way, nobody else around here knows the details. That's your story to tell.”

The last thing Hunter wanted to feel was gratitude. He knew rumors were probably flying through the Seattle
ranks, because Paladins gossiped like a bunch of old hens. It didn't mean he wanted them to know what really happened.

“My real question is are you here to lick your wounds or to work?”

Son of a bitch, this guy went right for the jugular. If he liked blunt, he'd get blunt. “A little of both.”

Devlin lapsed into silence, clearly considering his options. Finally, he nodded. “Okay, here's what I can offer you. I'm not going to trust you or anybody else at the barrier until I know he can face what comes across it. None of us have any reason to love those crazy bastards when they attack, and you definitely have more reason than most to hate them. But here's the bottom line: if you're unsure of how you'll handle it, I won't risk my men's lives by asking them to fight next to you.”

If Bane hadn't wanted to take on Hunter, why had he let Jarvis send him in the first place? “So you're saying maybe I should book my return flight to St. Louis?”

“That's up to you. There is an alternative.”

Hunter had already come this far. He might as well hear the man out.

He settled back in his chair. “I'm listening.”

“I'm sure you've heard about our interactions with the Kalith.”

Hunter sneered. “Yeah, we heard you'd adopted a few strays. Didn't realize you were actually naming your pets.”

Bane's big fist slammed down on the desk hard enough to topple a stack of files onto the floor. He ignored the mess as he leaned forward and snarled, “That
attitude will get you nowhere, Fitzsimon. Like I said, I know what you've been through.”

“Like hell you do!”

Some of the steam went out of Devlin's fury. He leaned back in his chair and stared at Hunter for a few seconds. “Maybe you're right, but you need to understand that things are different for us. I hate those crazy fuckers that attack every time the barrier goes down as much as the next guy. But around here, we consider the Kalith warriors like Barak, Lusahn, and Larem our friends and allies. All of them have risked their own necks to save lives—Paladin lives.”

“So what? It's not like that evens the score.”

Devlin shoved his chair back and stalked around to Hunter's side of the desk. “Lose the fucking attitude, Hunter, or I will personally stuff your worthless carcass on the next plane back to St. Louis!”

Hunter clenched his fists, but he held himself back. “Look, I'll try. Just don't shove them in my face.”

“Shouldn't be a problem. I'm shipping your ass north of here.”

Devlin reached across his desk, pulled a folded map out of the top drawer, and spread it out. He pointed to a spot on the enlarged map of the city.

“We're here in our headquarters located in the Seattle Underground. The barrier stretches through under the city here and here. The closer you get to the volcanoes, the more unstable it becomes. And just to make things more interesting, we've got tectonic plates crashing into each other right offshore.”

Where was all of this headed? “Thanks for the geology lesson.”

“Smart-ass,” Devlin said with no real heat. “We do our best to guard the area, but you know there are never enough of us to go around. That means some spots are vulnerable.”

He flipped the map over to show the entire state of Washington. “We've found out that there has been movement going in both directions across the barrier. Greedy bastards on both sides are making money at the cost of lives of our people
and
theirs.”

Hunter didn't much care how many crazy Others died—or Kalith warriors, for that matter. He kept that little bit of information to himself, figuring it wouldn't pay to antagonize Bane any more than he already had. “Where do I fit in?”

Devlin pointed at a second spot some distance north of Seattle. “You may not have heard that one of my men spent some time on the other side of the barrier. While he was there, he discovered a small stretch of barrier we didn't know about. Evidently it's barely wide enough for two men to pass through shoulder-to-shoulder. To make matters worse, we have no idea how unstable the barrier is along there. What we do know is there's clear evidence that humans have been crossing there on a regular basis. But again, no idea how many or who. I haven't had anyone to post up there to keep an eye on things.” Devlin looked up from the map with grim satisfaction. “But now I have you.”

His phone rang again. While Devlin took the call, Hunter mulled over everything he'd been saying. They'd all seen Devlin's pet Other when Devlin had brought Barak q'Young with him, back when Trahern had been
in Missouri. If Jarvis had known anything about Paladins crossing to the other side of the barrier, he hadn't said anything. What kind of crazy SOB would've done something like that?

When Devlin hung up the phone, Hunter asked, “So you want me to drive up there and take a look around?”

“No, we've done that. I want you to live up there for a while and assess the situation. You'll report directly to me. If you can't or won't handle the assignment, maybe I can find something else for you to do at headquarters. Take tonight to think about it and get back to me in the morning.”

Hunter already knew what his answer would be, but there was no sense in rushing things. Might as well let Devlin sweat a bit. Earlier he had taken Hunter on a brief tour of the underground complex, as well as the admin building where the Handlers and the guards were stationed. Hunter's nerves were stretched to the breaking point from all those faces staring at him and pretending they hadn't noticed his limp.

The farther he got away from his own kind the better. Doc Crosby had warned him, though, that Paladins never fared well far from the barrier. This small bit of territory that Devlin was willing to cede to Hunter's care might just help him hold it together long enough to figure out what to do with the rest of his worthless life.

He gripped the wolf head on his cane and prepared to leave. “I'll check in with you in the morning.”

“Not so fast. I promised Laurel that I'd invite you over for dinner tonight. Trahern and Brenna will be the only other two there, if that makes a difference.” Devlin's
face flushed a bit. “I should warn you, Laurel can't cook for shit, but don't let that stop you.”

“This Laurel, is she the same Handler who helped save Trahern from the needle?”

“Yeah, she's the one.”

Laurel's progressive attitudes had filtered their way through to other Handlers, including Doc Crosby. “Then I'll come. For her, I'd choke down dog food with a smile on my face.”

Devlin nodded, muttering something under his breath that sounded a lot like “you might have to,” then scribbled down directions and his address. “We'll eat around six. Call if you need a ride.”

“Thanks. I'll see you at dinner.”

It was only early afternoon, leaving Hunter with hours to kill. He'd spent most of his time on the airplane studying a guide book of Seattle that Jarvis had bought for him. If memory served, he was only a few blocks away from the waterfront. The walk would do him good and get him away from the prying eyes of the Paladins and everyone else who worked for the Regents.

Eventually he might have to get to know them, but not right now.

Trahern popped the cap off his beer and took a long drink. “Think Fitzsimon will show?”

“I don't know. He did seem more interested when he realized Laurel was the Handler who helped save your worthless ass. He might stand you and me up, but I suspect he'll show up for her.”

“Last time I talked to Jarvis, he was pretty closemouthed about Fitzsimon's problems.” Trahern looked at Devlin, obviously waiting for him to fill in the blanks.

“All I can say is that this guy's problems make Penn Sebastian's seem like a walk in the park.” Devlin adjusted the controls on the grill. “I know more. I won't say more.”

The sliding screen door opened. Hunter glared at Devlin and then Trahern as he stepped out onto the deck. “It's nice to know you're a man of your word. My business is exactly that—my business.”

“Fine by me.” Trahern leaned over to snag another beer out of the cooler, then held it out. “Here.”

Hunter accepted the drink and sat down. “Nice view.”

“Thanks. I'm going to hate putting this place on the market.” Devlin busied himself with straightening his barbeque tools.

“Why do it then?” Hunter picked up a handful of chips.

“Eventually the neighbors are going to notice that I haven't aged in all the years I've owned it. It's bound to draw unwanted attention.”

Trahern looked around, a thoughtful expression on his face. “I'll probably have to do that myself one of these days.”

Time to change the subject. “How do you like your steak, Hunter?” Devlin asked.