Shadows of Fate (Shadow Born) (11 page)

She pulled out the parchment Claudius had given them as he turned off the engine. “Do those symbols mean anything to you?” he asked. “It’s clearly a map, but there are no landmarks, just random scratches.”

She held the paper up to the interior light. “I keep thinking if I look at it long enough, it will make sense. But it still looks like nonsense. Only one section looks familiar.” She pointed to a line of script running along the width of the page. “This is demonic, but nothing I’m familiar with. I’m going to give it to Lucy to translate.”

She refolded the paper and slipped it into her pocket. They stepped out into the cold night. A light dusting of snow danced around them as they made their way to the back entrance of the house.

“I want to look at the victim files again,” Gray said as they stepped inside. “They are in my room if you want to go over them.”

Yawning, she nodded. “I’m going to check to see if Marissa checked in while we were gone. I’ll be up in a minute.”

He watched her disappear through the corridor. She seemed to care about her friend. It didn’t fit what he had been told. He had expected to find a heartless bitch, not a loyal caretaker. He took the stairs two at a time until he was in his room.

He tossed his coat on his bed. It landed by Seraph’s file which he picked up and brought to Brenna’s room. He dumped the papers and spread the pictures of the victims on the floor, creating a macabre circle of death. He hoped it would show them what the words alone had not.

A few moments later, Brenna appeared, waving a sheet of paper in one hand. “Lucy sent this over. We were wrong about the runes on the bodies. They’re not demonic or vampiric. They belong to an ancient cult from Earth’s early history. They represent the elements. Air, fire, water and earth.

“But what are their significance?” Gray picked up one of the pictures and studied the runes. “Are they used by the Brotherhood?”

“No. They’re not ritualistic. More like nouns.” She knelt beside him on the floor and pointed to one of the pictures. “These are naming symbols. They have no magical significance.”

“So we’re back to square one.” He got up and began to pace. Moving got his blood flowing and helped him think. Something lurked in the back of his mind, but he couldn’t push it through. “We’ve got poison from our realm mixed with manticore demon blood, ancient Earth runes, and a person from each group of power players murdered.”
He paused. “None of which is helpful, either apart or together. The only connection is you’ve contacted each at some point.”

“What about cause of death? Is there a connection there?” Brenna settled on the floor, ruffling through the files.

“They were all drained of energy,” said Gray. “Something sucked out their essence. There were no visible signs of trauma except for the markings. Xavier being the exception.”

“Blood?”

“Intact.”

“So if they were used as a food source it wasn’t for blood. We can mark out vampire. Even a psychic vampire feeds on the blood along with the essence.” He leaned back against the wall. None of it made sense, and it was getting more jumbled by the minute. “I need a break. All of the information is running together.” He glanced at her, noting her skin was flushed and clammy. “And so do you. We’ll come back to it tomorrow.”

“Marissa might not be alive tomorrow,” she said, fingers sorting through the pages. “I need to find an answer.” Her regret was palpable, but she allowed him to take the files. “I sent Lucy a picture of the map. She’s going to translate it and send it back. Maybe it will help us piece this together.” She motioned to the jumble of pictures still on the floor. “I need a hot shower. It’ll help me think. You can keep reading.”

Gathering the pictures off the floor, she tossed them on the bed. With a yawn, she disappeared into the closet. Gray imagined her stripping off her clothes, pulling down the zipper on her jeans, the rough material sliding across her naked hips. Abruptly, he got to his feet, his own jeans suddenly uncomfortable. The fact his body still reacted so strongly to her presence unnerved him.

Her hair was unbound when she stepped back into the room. It fell to her waist, a copper blanket of curls against the white of her tightly wrapped robe. She gasped. “You’re still here.” Desire surged in the golden depths of her eyes, the only part of her not hidden by her glamour.

He had known sharing blood would amp any desire she might have for him. But he had imagined he would be able to resist. He considered himself to have some semblance of morality. At least enough to keep from sleeping with a woman he planned to betray.

She grabbed the files from the bed and pressed them to his chest. The warmth of her skin seeped through the thin robe. He itched to touch her, his hand moving of its own volition toward her waist, as she stepped back.

“See if you can find something. I won’t be long.” She grabbed a towel from the chair, then disappeared down the hall, her flip-flops flapping on the unpadded floor.

Dropping to the bed, Gray pulled a hand through his hair. Before it had been difficult not to grab Brenna and demand she acknowledge who and what he was. Now that she had tasted his blood, it was becoming impossible. He felt his glamour weaken. The potion had not worked as well this time. He would need her blood. Soon.

Still, her abrupt departure had left him with an opportunity he could not ignore. Slipping the bedroom door closed, he walked into the closet and found the makeshift wall which hid her mediation room. Pressing his hand against the door, he carefully untangled the wards.

He felt the residue of Brenna’s power as he walked inside and tried to locate the amulet. She had all but admitted she had the stone when the replica had been found with Xavier’s body. The talisman would still hold remnants of his original power. It would strengthen his blood, allowing a brief respite. He searched every nook and crevice with his power for the stone. Nothing.

Incensed at his lack of success, he closed the entrance and reset the wards. Did the amulet mean so little to her that she didn’t keep it in her sanctuary? He searched her room next, but also came up empty.

His resentment rising, he settled back on the bed at the sound of Brenna’s return. She came in, hair damp, her robe traded for a towel.

“Find anything?”

Her glamour flickered as she moved past the bed. The ethereal beauty she kept hidden pushed through the façade she had so carefully put in place. Her amber eyes glowed against porcelain skin. Her frame was so small, the top of her head would barely hit his shoulder. He had always been amazed such a compact body could hold such power.

This was the Brenna he remembered. He couldn’t stop staring.

Feeling his eyes on her, she turned to meet his gaze. “You seem surprised. I have to release my glamour occasionally. You should try it sometime. You wrap yours up so tight. Even after tasting your blood, I can’t see through it.” She cocked her head. “It makes me wonder what you’re hiding.”

“You’ll find out soon enough,” he said, trying to sound coy rather than foreboding.

“I’m sure I will.”

As she turned away he noticed the shimmer of the cord around her neck. The amulet lay against her breast. Although partially hidden by her glamour, there was no mistaking it. He closed his eyes against the swarm of emotions.

Before tonight he had imagined nothing could affect him like this. Not after all he had been through. But as he watched her slender fingers caress the symbols carved in the stone, he could barely suppress his reaction. She’d kept it. She’d kept it on her. What did that mean?

He got to his feet and shoved the papers at her towel clad form. “I haven’t found anything new. I’m exhausted.”

“But—”

He held up one hand. “No, Brenna. I’m calling it a night.”

The pain in her eyes threatened to do him in. Not knowing what else to do, he left.

Brenna stared at the translation Lucy had couriered over until her eyes crossed. Her brain was fuzzy from lack of sleep and the translated symbols made no more sense to her than the original ones.

The look in Gray’s eyes last night had haunted her until dawn. The moment he had let down his guard he had seemed familiar. Too familiar. As if he had walked out of the past. It frustrated her that even after having taken his blood she was no closer to knowing him.

Even so, the intimacy they had shared left her shaken. It had awakened a strong desire to complete the blood exchange. His blood flowed in her veins. It reminded her of things she hadn’t thought possible since losing Dunham. It had been a hundred years and she had never felt the slightest desire to replace Dunham in her mind or erase his mark from her body. This desire she felt for Gray had taken her unaware, and her conscience ached with guilt. Every lustful thought betrayed Dunham’s memory. He deserved better.

She wiped away a tear, forcing her thoughts back to the map.

“Figure it out?”

She started. She hadn’t known Gray was there. Slowing her breaths, she tried to recover.

“Sorry. I thought you heard me.” Gray sounded amused.

I would have if I could focus for ten seconds
, she thought.

She followed him to the counter and took the coffee he offered.

“Lucy can’t translate the symbols from the map,” she said, moving back to the table. “But she thinks it might be a set of directions.”

Gray moved behind her, leaning over her shoulder until his chest was pressed against her back. Her breath caught and coffee washed over the rim of her cup. Cursing, she mopped it up with a towel. “Lucy’s still working on it, but I’d be surprised if Claudius doesn’t already know what it is. He handed this over too easily.”

Her partner stepped back, his body still so near his magic tickled her aura. “Agreed. Claudius is a class A manipulator. There’s a reason he gave this to us.”

“Claudius the parasite?” Hilda’s voice drifted into the room. “I’ve got a backstage pass when Mira turns him to dust.” Her corporal form appeared above the table. “They’ll have to work out all that sexual frustration first though.”

“What do you know about sex? You’re a ghost.” Gray leaned back, a wry smile on his face.

Crouching in front of Gray, Hilda hovered, her face inches from him. “Hey, Bucko, I’ll have you know I was killed by a jealous lover then cursed to spend eternity wandering the earth for my sins.”

“That’s what you get for cheating on a dark mage,” said Brenna.

Hilda snorted. Releasing the front of Gray’s shirt, she rose to her feet. “He was a tool. I was just draining his power.”

“So you were a succubus?”

Hilda flipped back her long blond hair. “Do I look like a monster?”

Gray cocked his head.

“Ok. Don’t answer that,” she said. “I was a white witch. I was taking one for the team. If you drain a dark mage to the point they can’t use magic they are much easier to kill.”

“Doesn’t murdering someone make you a dark witch?”

Hilda threw up her hands, letting out a huff of air as she rolled her eyes. “Come on. Not if they’re
evil
. Besides, someone else would have done that part.”

Brenna rolled her eyes. “Glad things are so black and white for you. Too bad he ended up killing you.”

Hilda shrugged. “Eh, I like being a ghost. Eventually I’ll find the bastard’s grimoire and break the spell, but what’s the rush?”

“So you’ve chosen to stay a ghost because you’re too lazy to find a spell to let you pass into the hereafter?” Gray cocked an eyebrow. “I find that hard to believe.”

“No, because I’m having too much fun. Besides, why should I care what you believe?” Hilda grinned. “You should remember that rat may have turned me into a ghost, but I killed him.” She paused. “And I made sure it was painful.” There was a flash of light and she disappeared.

Gray turned to Brenna. “I don’t get her.”

She shrugged. “No one does.”

Sam stomped into the kitchen, his usual refined self. Brenna gasped at his appearance. Blood coated his hands, a stripe running down his face.

“I hate vampires.” He walked to the sink, rubbing his hands together under the pouring water. “And I’m beginning to hate Mira.”

He didn’t appear injured. “Whose blood is that?”

“Mira threw a vile at me and it shattered when I caught it.” He cringed. “She stole a case from Claudius.”

“And why not?” Mira stepped into the kitchen, a black case in her hands. “It’s illegal to bottle real blood, so he can’t report it stolen.” She sat the case on the table in front of Brenna. “Besides, he owes me.”

“You were supposed to be stealthy.” Brenna sighed.

“We were. I just took a souvenir.” She grinned. “There’s an entire storeroom full. He won’t miss it.”

“So aside from stealing from our suspect, did you find out anything?”

Sam snorted. “I found out Mira is still lusting after Claudius.” Mira glared at him, but Sam didn’t seem to care. “Hey, it’s all right. I’m sure he’ll be willing to scratch your itch.”

She growled, her body ready to spring.

“I had to wipe the drool from her mouth.”

Mira lunged, her body clearing the table. Sam held her back with one hand, laughing. He blew on her face, his magic filling the air. She stilled, shaking her head.