Read Wild Card Online

Authors: Mark Henwick,Lauren Sweet

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Contemporary, #Urban, #Paranormal & Urban, #Urban Fantasy

Wild Card (51 page)

BOOK: Wild Card
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She cleared her throat. “It’s the same attitude as he showed at Wash Park. He’s finished here. He’s gone.”

“Something’s happened,” I said.

She nodded. “Or will happen.”

I heard slow steps on the stairs, and went and stood in front of the body. I’d wanted Mary along to see if there was any reading she could make on the house, any spells she could sense that would give me a clue. I hadn’t thought I’d have to confront her with this. My itchy sensations increased, and I felt the strongbox groan. Something about all this was making a horrible resonance inside me.

Gray came into the basement first, leading Mary by the hand.

Her eyes turned away from the body. I doubted it was the death itself that disturbed her, but the manner. Maybe that left an awful echo in this room.

“If you’re finished, leave us for a while, please,” Gray whispered.

I nodded, secretly immensely relieved. “We’ll have a quick search through the rest of the house.”

We climbed back out of the pit, and every step seemed to ease a little more pressure off me. I was nowhere near Mary’s capabilities, but something in that basement had weighed on me. Something about the terror of the people who’d been held captive there. Was that how it was in a Basilikos House, with their toru? I shuddered.

The rest of the house was a blank: cold, empty rooms and dust over everything.

Melissa and I returned to wait in the car. It was freezing, but I preferred that to getting anywhere near that basement again.

Melissa was clutching Clayton’s notes. She’d been reading Clayton’s notes while we drove here.

“Anything?” I asked.

“There’s a lot there, and some of it just sounds like Clayton ranting. But there’s a list of people he talked to, and a list he was going to talk to.”

Her voice was uncertain.

“Anyone from the pack?”

“Yeah. He talked to Silas Falkner, Kyle Larsen, Ursula Tennyson and Doctor Noble. Larimer was down to be interviewed next, right at the time Clayton had his badge pulled.” She coughed. “A couple of other people and then, after that, was Alex.”

I scrubbed my hands tiredly across my face. That was a lot of the pack. How had Clayton come across them?

“Alex is out,” I muttered. “Even though he had the opportunity to steal my clothes. I just know him at a level where he couldn’t hide this. Larimer’s out; alphas’ mental health feeds down into the pack, like that bloodthirsty bastard Verano. The doctor’s simply too small. Ursula and Silas are plenty big enough and they’re on my list. Larsen, I have no idea. I’ll have to find him today and talk to him.”

Melissa scribbled contact details for the list onto a piece of paper and passed it over.

“You know the rest of them,” she said, “but I’ll text you a photo of Kyle Larsen when I’m back in front of a computer.”

“What was Clayton’s reasoning for the people in his list?” I asked. “Did he give any indications?”

“He’s blank on means and motive. It’s gotta be opportunity.”

Opportunity. And we were talking of the known victims, not the potential list with the wealthy women. Silas and Larsen did volunteer work in that community. What opportunity had Clayton spotted for Doc Noble and Ursula? I should have questioned Ursula more when I had the chance.

The eastern sky was lightening; we had to go.

Crap.

I needed to go back to the basement and bring them up.

They were back to back in the middle of the floor, eyes closed, slowly stepping around in a circle. A wash of prickles ran over me, as if my skin had suddenly dried and tightened in the sun.

Mary held up one hand.

Her eyes opened and I felt a tremor like an aftershock pass through me. Nothing else stirred.

She sighed and moved away from Gray. The sensations eased. My other senses took over and the marque, the smell of dead Were and dried blood returned. The feeling of wolf abruptly rolled over me.

Mary drifted past.

“It’s time to go. We have to talk, Amber.”

All very well, but I couldn’t talk. She hadn’t noticed, but I had clamped my teeth together. I wanted to hunt and kill. Blood was speaking to me. Saliva filled my mouth. My limbs trembled. Frantic scratching inside.

And Gray’s hand rested on my shoulder.

“My grandfather always spoke to me with wisdom,” he murmured. “And so one day I told him what I feared most in all the world: that I had not one, but two wolves in me. One bright with joy and running in the woods. The other dark and twisted with hate, who lurked in the shadows of the mind. ‘It is so with all of us,’ he said, ‘even me.’ ‘Then what must I do, grandfather?’ I asked, and he replied ‘feed only the one you wish to grow.’”

I closed my eyes. I remembered back to when I thought I only had turning Athanate to worry about, before I’d met Alex and been cross-infused. I remembered imagining running naked through the pathless woods up at Bitter Hooks and singing to the moon, in the cold, clean air.

The horrors of the basement didn’t go away, but they didn’t press so hard on me anymore.

“Not just a wolf, though, are you, Gray?” I whispered hoarsely.

“No. Bear and cougar too,” he said quietly.

Damn, that was so cool. Not what I’d been asking, but cool anyway.

I turned and followed him up the stairs.

“What will you do about this house?” he said when we emerged, as if nothing had happened.

“Call it in.” My mind was clear again.

“Not worth a stakeout?”

“No,” I said. “The rogue never intended to come back. Even if he did, you turned off the alarm.”

“Huh?”

“I bet he’s set it up so turning the alarm off sent a signal to him. He wouldn’t be coming back here. And anyway, he’s planning on leaving soon.”

Was that what he wanted the Nagas for? A ticket out of the US? In exchange for what? Handing me over?

“Gut instinct?” Gray said.

I nodded. “What did you two find in the basement?” I asked as we climbed into the Hill Bitch.

“You’re in great danger, Amber.” Mary answered, resting her head in her hands. “This one’s so powerful, so evil.”

“The dead Were was nothing to do with what that room was used for,” Gray said. “There was a ritual practiced there, many times.”

“A working, a twisted working of the energy,” Mary said. “To take, to give nothing back. Not an Adept working.”

“Not entirely.” Gray cut across her.

“A working of bits and pieces,” Mary said. “All embellished like a crazy patchwork. As if the caster worked from hints and experiments. Like the working on your car. This is the same one.”

“Those experiments…” I said.

“On people,” Gray replied, his face grim.

“To take what?”

“The essence of a person,” Mary said. “It’s not clear what it’s doing or how, but I think the intention is to steal abilities. But it’s like the caster—it’s insane. It takes everything: abilities, flesh, bone, everything.”

“The bodies! The damage done to them.” Melissa said. “A spell like this would cut through bone without leaving a mark?”

Gray nodded.

Mary lifted her face and looked at me. “This was a Were. However he managed to get started, he has built his abilities by stealing from people who access the energy.” She wiped her cheek. “I could feel him in Denver, I knew he was twisting energy and I knew he had to be Athanate. Because that’s what Athanate are—evil. Everyone knew that. I looked away. This is my fault.”

“No,” Gray said. “You aren’t evil. This isn’t your fault.”

“It is. All that is needed for evil to prosper, is for good people to do nothing. I did nothing. I share the blame.”

“Surely the victims aren’t all Adepts?” I said. “You would have known.”

Mary shook her head.

“No,” Gray answered for her. “Not Adepts exactly.” He thought for a moment. “There’s a task that Adepts must sometimes do,” he said. “You’ve been told that everyone has a little access to the energy?”

“Yeah.”

“Some people can develop their ability without spirit guides, without the safety net of the Adept community. Sometimes, Adept communities adopt them. With most, it’s safer just to lock down their abilities. That doesn’t destroy their ability, just prevents them from using it.”

“But why?”

“Because the type of person we’re talking about is on a fine line at the edge of sanity. For this small group, the same thing in their mental makeup that makes them borderline insane also enables them to develop their access to the energy. It would be very dangerous to leave them.”

I was angry. I didn’t know how it could be changed without making it worse, but the thought of treating people like this was plain wrong. And then abandoning them into the human community where a predator like the rogue could discover them…

“This is why he’s so interested in you, Amber.”

“What? But my Adept abilities are nothing.”

“No, not that,” Mary said. “He’s absorbed the Adept abilities he wants. He may have even tried to absorb Athanate before and failed. But you’re unique. You’ve found a balance between Were and Athanate. That’s what he wants from you.”

 

Chapter 53

 

I laid my head back on the seat and listened to Agent Ingram’s cell ringing. Any second now, his voicemail would cut in. I didn’t want to talk to his voicemail, but if I left a message, I could claim I’d done my duty, couldn’t I?

I closed my eyes.

The Hill Bitch was just as cold, but I’d picked up an old ski jacket from Liu when I’d dropped Mary off. Melissa was safe back at Manassah. I was warm. Bliss.

“Yes?”

I jumped.

“Ah…Agent Ingram?”

“Ms. Farrell. I do say, I am most pleased to hear from you.”

“Yeah, hold onto that. Are you back in Denver?”

“I am. Are you coming in to talk now?”

“No. Sorry. But I have some intelligence for you. There was a crash out on the Cabrini road off US40 late last night. It’s my belief that the driver belonged to Ops 4-16. Seems like there’s a lot in Denver at the moment.”

“Looking for Colonel Laine?”

“Among others.”

He went ominously quiet for a couple of beats. “My level of discretion about how and what I report doesn’t extend to the army’s fourteen million dollar gunships being blow out the sky, or a battalion of special forces running amok in Denver.”

“I hear you, Ingram. Me, the Alversons, the colonel, you and your boss. It’ll be good to talk. Soon as you put 4-16 away.”

“Ms. Farrell—”

“I’m in a hurry. I have something more specific to the other investigation the FBI seems to be running in Denver, but it overlaps with 4-16. Will you be taking charge of the combined investigation?”

“No. I appreciate your concerns on the matter,” he said, “but I do need to bring my colleague into this conversation.” The sound muffled for a few moments.

He was calling Griffith in. I had been sure he would have to. I didn’t want to talk to the man, but it felt wrong to hide what had happened last night.

“Yes, ma’am.” The sound had changed. I was on a speakerphone.

“Who’s there?” I asked.

“Agent Griffith, Ms. Farrell.”

“Okay.”
Here goes nothing
. “My intelligence is that a string of murders has been committed in Denver by one person. Many of these had a signature of damage to the thighbone of the victim. The victims came largely from itinerant or homeless people and I understand little investigation was ever done to connect these cases.”

“Culminating in the murder of Barbara Green,” Griffith said. “Wearing your clothes and in your old house.”

“That may have been the last,” I said. “There was one detective who investigated—”

“Clayton,” Griffith interrupted.

Yes, Agent Griffith, you are right on top of this investigation. Now shut up.

“My intelligence suggests he was killed at his home last night.”

There were some muffled background noises, and I let them run with it for a while. Griffith was probably sending a car out to Arvada.

“Are you saying that the detective was on the right track and he has been killed by whoever killed the others?” Ingram again.

“In a manner of speaking. I believe the detective was killed on the orders of the murderer he nearly caught three years ago. But here’s where it gets weird. I believe he was killed by Ops 4-16.”

“The woman at the Cabrini crash?”

“Yes.”

“This all ties back into the military?” Ingram asked.

“I can’t say. My intel simply suggests that the woman and a male accomplice who was at the murder scene were members of Ops 4-16. And there’s one other item. I believe the killer used a house in Glenmore Hills.” I gave them the address, and there were more background sounds.

Griffith came back on.

“Where’s Melissa Owen?” he said.

“She’s safe,” I said. “And she has nothing to add to this conversation at the moment.”

“Ms. Farrell, you’ve been very careful how you’ve phrased all this ‘intelligence,’ and I’m going to find out how you came by it. In the meantime, I remind you, if I catch you or Owen at any crime scenes, I will arrest you for impeding my investigation.”

“I hear you.” I cut the call and scrubbed my face with my hands, stifling a yawn.

I had more important things to do than swap insults with him.

I’d got a session booked with Noble. He wanted to get inside my head. I needed things from him that would help me catch the rogue. One little clue that would unlock the puzzle. The trouble was, I didn’t know what that clue was and the only way to find it was to subject myself to Noble’s well-meaning questioning.

 

Chapter 54

 

Something fundamental. Something very important. I have to pick it out from this jumble of images. Nick Gray, wolf, bear, cougar. Dead Matlal Were, hanging on the wall. Silas, Ursula, Kyle. Mary. Where did the trail of unhappy women lead? How far am I from the rogue? Sick fascination; the thought of feeding on fear.

Feed. Which wolf do I feed? Can I tell them apart in the night?

Diana’s hand gripping my neck.

Time is running out. Time!

BOOK: Wild Card
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