Summoner of Storms (11 page)

Gray’s roar sounded from the upper floor
apartment.

Shit! John went to the balls of his feet,
torn between rushing inside and covering the exit. Everyone on the
block must have heard. People would be calling the cops already.
What had happened up there?

The side door burst open, and Sean ran out.
There was no sign of Gray.

John didn’t think, just lunged out of the
shadows. Sean spun, eyes going wide, but John had the advantage.
Grabbing Sean by the lapels, he hurled him into the brick wall.

“What did you do?” he shouted in Sean’s face.
“If you’ve hurt Gray, I’ll fucking kill you!”

Sean snapped his knee up, aiming for John’s
groin, but John managed to catch it on his thigh instead. Sean’s
face still bore the bruises and cuts from the beating John gave him
at RD. Time to add a few more.

“John, stop!” Sean shouted. “Just listen—I
thought he’d come after me—”

“You would have been better off if he had,”
John snarled, and swung a fist at Sean’s face.

Sean managed to twist to one side, and John’s
knuckles only skimmed him. A minute later, pain flared in John’s
gut as Sean buried a fist of his own there.

They grappled each other, both trying to get
the advantage. They ended up on the ground, Sean on the bottom.
John hit him again, this time in the ribs. Sean’s fingers raked
John’s face, trying for an eye gouge but missing.

The world narrowed and turned into a red
haze. Red as Caleb’s blood on the floor. Sean had tried to take
everything away from John, destroy his entire world. Now, going by
the sound of the roar, he’d hurt Gray. John would hit him and keep
hitting him until the pain went away, until he couldn’t see Caleb
dead on the floor, until—

Hands closed around his shoulders, heaving
him effortlessly up and off of Sean. John shouted and struggled,
fighting to get free, until a deep rumble cut through the haze
around him.

“John, stop.”

Gray’s eyes and nose were reddened, the
drying tracks of tears and mucus on his face. He smelled rather
strongly of garlic, but he seemed otherwise unharmed.

John sagged in his hold. “Shit. I thought
he’d hurt you.”

“I am fine. Temporarily inconvenienced, but
there is no permanent injury.”

Sean sprawled gasping and panting on the
rough old bricks. Tiffany had joined them at some time during the
commotion without John noticing. Now she pointed her Glock at
Sean’s head.

“Stand down, Starkweather. We still need this
fucker alive.” She gave Sean a cold, predatory smile. “At least for
now.”

* * *

Caleb stared at the sagging, abandoned house.
Night had fallen. Only the sodium glare of streetlights and the
neon of the liquor store illuminated the cracked sidewalk,
weed-choked space that had once been a garden, and warped boards of
the house. The grinding roar of trucks downshifting on I-26 echoed
from the great concrete arch of road nearby, accompanied by a faint
whiff of exhaust fumes.

All the places in Charleston Tiffany might
have picked, and she’d brought them here. To the house he’d died
in.

“
The house where I came to life.”

Caleb couldn’t argue. And hell...maybe he’d
come to life here, too, even if he didn’t realize it at the time.
If he’d never ventured here, hunting Gray, he’d be back in
Charlotte right now. Stuck in another dead-end job. Scared to have
a real relationship for fear his telekinesis would be discovered.
Never sticking his neck out, keeping his head down, just drifting
through the days.

Not to say he was a fan of all the blood and
screaming. But at least he was doing something now. Trying to make
a difference.

“
And you have John and myself.”

Yeah, yeah.
But a surge of affection
accompanied the thought. Gray responded, a sensation like a big cat
happily rubbing against its favorite human.

“
You are my favorite human.”

Of all the awful things that came from Sean
putting a bullet in his head, there was one moment he still thought
about, lying in bed at night. The sensation of Gray wrapped around
him, protecting and anchoring him. Of total love, with no
conditions or what-ifs. Just someone who loved him exactly the way
he was and always would.

It was nothing he’d expected or looked for.
And it was a big reason he agreed to make the possession permanent,
because despite all the uncertainty surrounding every other part of
their existence, Gray would always be on his side.

“You okay?” John asked.

Caleb realized he’d been standing on the
sidewalk, not paying any damn attention to his surroundings.
“Yeah—just thinking.”

“About how romantic this place is, since we
first met here?”

Caleb snorted. “Yeah, right. You always take
me to the nicest places, Starkweather. Abandoned houses, crime
scenes, black ops government bases...”

John nodded. “True, but at least there’s
dinner involved. Admittedly, it’s usually Gray’s idea of dinner,
but I don’t want to play favorites.”

“Now I’m all jealous.” He bumped his hip
lightly against John’s. “Seriously, though, it’s a little weird
coming back here. But I’m okay.”

John’s smile faded. “It’s weird for all of
us. The last time we were here, I never thought...well. A lot of
things.” He started for the front door, partially blocked by the
collapse of the upper balcony onto the lower porch. “Let’s get
inside before anyone spots us.”

Tiffany and Sean went first, her Glock
pressed into his kidney to keep him in line. Caleb followed John,
ducking beneath the twisted iron staircase and through the
door.

Nothing had changed inside: same moldy
wallpaper hanging off in strips, same bare floorboards warped from
humidity, same stink of mildew and rat piss. A hole in the ceiling
marked where Caleb had fallen through, all the way from the attic
three stories up, smashing bones and organs. Dead on the floor,
until Melanie’s CPR brought him back.

Flashes of memory, at first devoid of color
or emotion. Caleb’s own face, pale and scared, a silver-plated ax
in his hand. Followed by John kneeling in front of them, smiling
and saying something reassuring. And his eyes, so blue, the first
color in the world.

“
Everything was gray.”

You know, you can pick another name, if you
want.

“
No. John called me this first. It
has...value...to me.”

At least there were a couple of differences
to interrupt this little trip down memory lane. Namely Tiffany with
her gun drawn, and Sean, now handcuffed to a rusty radiator.

Tiffany regarded him with a sneer on her
face, as if Sean was beneath her contempt. But John...

John’s eyes darkened with fury, his brows
drew low, and he held his arms crossed over his chest. Tension
practically vibrated the air around him, like he was one second
from beating the crap out of Sean again.

And hell, John was supposed to be the stable
one, right? The one with the self-control, who rolled with the
punches and came back with a quote from some damn motivational
poster. But in the courtyard, before Gray pulled him off, Caleb had
been honestly scared John might kill Sean.

Not to suggest he gave a fuck about Sean. But
if John crossed the line, what would it do to him? Would he be able
to look in the mirror? Or would he turn bitter and angry?

“
We cannot allow him to harm himself in
such a way.”

No. Which meant keeping an eye on John and
making damn sure he didn’t do anything he’d regret.
When did I
become the responsible one?

“All right, Sean,” Tiffany said. “You, me,
and John—we’ve known each other since we were teens. So no fucking
around. I ask a straight-up question, you give a straight-up
answer. Where is Forsyth shipping the NHEs?”

Between the beating John gave him on Saturday
and the one tonight, Sean already looked like crap. But Tiffany’s
question drained all the color from his face, making the bruises
stand out even more starkly. “Shipping them? What do you mean?”

Tiffany took a step toward him, her shoes
clicking softly on the wooden floor. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I
heard you right. You were going to tell me where Forsyth is sending
the bottled NHEs, not play dumb. Maybe you’d like to repeat
yourself.”

The handcuffs rang against iron as Sean
leaned forward. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking
about.”

“Let me make it clear,” John said. He
crouched down to be on a level with Sean. “You tell us what you
know about what Forsyth is planning, or we put a bullet in your
skull.”

* * *

Sean stared back at John, eyes wide, as if
trying to figure out if John really meant it. John returned the
stare, forcing himself to meet Sean’s gaze. Telling himself over
and over he’d do it.

He hadn’t been able to pull the trigger the
night at RD. But now? SPECTR wanted to kill them all, kidnapped
kids, and did Goddess only knew what else. And he was done. Tired
all the way down to the bone. Whatever it took to end this
nightmare was fine by him. He’d worry about living with it
later.

Sean sagged back against the radiator. “Do
it. If you think you have to.”

Not the reaction he’d expected. Defiance,
sure. Lies, sure. But not this weary acceptance.

“I’m not bluffing.”

“I know.” Sean met his gaze, and he just
looked...sad. Beaten. “I made a deal with the devil, but I did it
to save my best friend.” Sean glanced past John to Caleb. “And I
failed. And now we all have to face the consequences.”

John clenched his fists.
“Save
me? By
putting a bullet in my boyfriend’s head? You didn’t try to save me,
you tried to destroy me!”

“I knew you’d hate me,” Sean said. Dried
blood cracked on his upper lip where one of John’s blows had split
it open. “But I watched you for
months
, slowly falling apart
after the succubus brothel.”

“So you decided to give me a new nightmare?”
John felt as if he couldn’t get enough oxygen, like he’d run a
marathon instead of just standing there breathing in the stale,
moldy air. “Do you know what I see every time I close my eyes now?
Do you?”

“John,” Caleb said softly.

“What do you want me to say?” Sean asked.
“I’m sorry? I’m sorry I had to do it, sure. I’m sorry Caleb got
hurt. And I’m damned sorry it didn’t work, because the thing in his
head is going to kill you.”

“His name is Gray.” Pain lanced through
John’s palms; the fingernails of his clenched fists had broken the
skin. “He’s not a
thing,
he’s a person.”

“It’s an NHE.
Non-Human
Entity. And I
saw it had fixated on you, and I went home and I spent
hours—days—asking myself what to do. Because you’d been heading for
the cliff for months already, and you’d finally found something to
push you the rest of the way over. I never wanted to go behind your
back, I never wanted to hurt Caleb, and I never wanted to work with
Forsyth.” Sean closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. “But I
wanted you to die even less. You’re my best friend, John. I love
you like a brother.”

“And now you’re in with Forsyth,” Tiffany
said. Striking from the side like a shark scenting blood in the
water. “If you really care about John, tell us what he’s up
to.”

“You saw for yourself at RD.” Bitterness
laced Sean’s voice. “Putting demons in people and not exorcising
them. Trying to make an army. I’ve already been informed I’ll be
transferred to RD soon. Whether Forsyth thinks it’s a reward or I
need closer watching, I’ve got no fucking clue. I’ve spent the last
two days trying to figure out how to turn it down without getting
shot.”

“Funny, we’ve spent the last two days getting
shot at.” John folded his arms over his chest. He wouldn’t feel bad
for Sean. He wouldn’t.

But none of this had gone the way he’d
imagined it. He’d pictured Sean laughing at their naïveté,
admitting he’d done it all out of some twisted scheme to climb to
the ranks at SPECTR, saying everything from their teen years on was
just an act.

“Let me help you.” Sean’s voice grated coming
out, like he spoke around a constriction in his throat. “What
Forsyth is doing is wrong. Let me help stop him. Please.”

John couldn’t find his voice. How stupid did
Sean think they were?

The floorboards squealed as Caleb stepped
forward. No doubt to tell Sean no way in hell would he agree to
this.

“You’d have to work with me. With Gray,”
Caleb said. “Who, by the way, didn’t exactly turn to mindless
slaughter the second our possession became irrevocable. Just in
case you missed that part.”

Sean’s mouth thinned. “Yeah. I noticed.”

Tiffany shifted her weight. “The drakul is
far more valuable to me than you are,” she told Sean.
“If
I
agree to this, you better understand. I’ll shoot you if I even
think you’re going to make a move against Caleb.”

“What the hell?” John turned away from Sean
to stare at Caleb and Tiffany. “You can’t be serious! He betrayed
us once already. Are you really going to give him a second chance
to stab us in the back?”

“We’re pretty low on options, Starkweather.”
Tiffany’s eyes remained fixed on Sean. Weighing. Judging. “I’ve
known Sean even longer than you have. I think he did what he did
out of desperation. And stupidity. A healthy dose of
stupidity.”

“No.” How could Tiffany seriously be
considering this, let alone Caleb? “Caleb, he
shot
you.”

“Yeah, believe me, I remember.” Caleb’s brown
eyes went even darker with memory. “But like Tiffany said, our
options are limited. Sean is our link on the inside.”

John shook his head, taking a step back.
“He’ll turn us over to Forsyth first chance he gets.”