Fading Light: Shadow Born, Book 2 Read online

  One by one they stepped inside, with Brenna leading the pack. A layer of debris enveloped them as they moved into the darkness. Gray’s eyes burned, making it difficult to see. Once they were all inside, the doors behind them sealed, Brenna lifted her hands and clapped in a steady cadence. The Christmas lights strung along the tunnel began to flicker. Someone had replaced the standard bulbs with blinking purple lights and the result was startling.

  Gray pinched the bridge of his nose to steady his vision. “Someone is going to have a stroke.”

  “Probably me,” Seraph complained.

  “I like it.” Brenna smiled. “It gives the space character.”

  “I thought you limited Lucy to the reception area and the front hall.” Gray squinted in an attempt to see.

  “I tried,” Seraph replied in a pained voice.

  Lucy, the IRT receptionist, coroner, and altogether pain in the ass, had recently had a brush with death. Taking advantage of Seraph’s guilt, she had convinced him to let her redecorate. Gone were the stark white walls and cream tiles. The floor was now a bright lime green, the walls a textured crimson. The metallic paint hadn’t set well, and the finished result looked like a tie-dyed mess. But Lucy loved it. And they loved Lucy.

  It took about fifteen minutes to travel the expanse of the tunnels to the front door. Once Seraph de-activated the security protocols, the doors slid open and they stepped inside their haven. Harsh florescent light streamed from the ceiling. The abrupt change from the tunnels momentarily blinded Gray. Once his eyes adjusted, he looked for Lucy. She ignored him, focused instead on Brenna.

  The gargoyle raised on her tip toes to peer across the desk. Barely five foot, she resembled a mix between a Cheshire cat and a pink hippo, aside from the pink fuzzy wings pressed against her back. Her tiny ears flipped forward, and she took a deep breath. “Did you bring it?”

  Brenna nodded. She shoved a hand in her duster pocket and pulled out a smashed chocolate moon pie. With a sigh, she pushed it through the slit in the partition surrounding Lucy. “That’s twelve. Debt paid.” Brenna shook her head. “These things are getting harder to find. The trade from back East is slowing down.”

  Lucy snorted before shoving the whole pie into her mouth. Crumbs trailed the folds in her cheeks and spilled onto her chest. “Better look harder.” She swallowed, then belched. “Friday’s poker night.” A quick rub of her belly and she burped again. “Ante up.”

  Gray turned away, a grin on his lips. Brenna spent most of her free time trying to beat Lucy in cards, but the gargoyle always won, and she only took her spoils in moon pies. But Brenna never gave up, even though it was a lost cause.

  The long hallway in front of their office was empty. Headquarters was normally chaotic, but tonight the vibe had changed. Everyone seemed distracted—the war was getting to them.

  He stepped inside the small space he shared with Brenna. Seraph had offered him his pick of solo offices, but Gray had moved into Brenna’s to make a point. Whatever idiot coined the phrase “absence makes the heart grow fonder” was wrong. Absence bred forgetfulness. He wasn’t letting Brenna out of his sight.

  The office was an eyesore. He was convinced Brenna had redecorated as a personal affront to him. She had taken all the things he disliked and merged them together. The white walls had been splashed with bright chartreuse paint. It dripped like dried blood splatter to the floor. He was surprised she hadn’t found a way to incorporate it onto the stark white linoleum. Brenna’s desk, a metal monstrosity she had tried, and failed, to cover with burnt orange paint, had been crammed into the far corner. On the wall behind it was her puppy calendar.

  His desk sat on the opposite wall. It was a slab of wood over concrete blocks. One day he had returned to find the wood painted fuchsia, the concrete light blue. Brenna had been with him at the time, and he had yet to find the culprit. Thankfully, they worked at home a lot.

  He tossed his duster and scabbard with his katana onto the rusty folding chair by the door before sinking onto the ratty brown leather couch. With a sigh, he leaned his head back to massage his temples. A few minutes later, he felt Seraph step inside. Gray opened his eyes and sat forward as a manila file landed on his lap.

  “That’s what I have. It’s not much.” Seraph walked over to the wooden kitchen chair in front of Gray. He flipped it around and straddled it. “About a month after you left, twelve human bodies showed up in a twenty-four-hour period. All turned to dust. We sent our best people, but no one could explain it. Once we started running tests, we realized the transformation destroyed the underlying biological specimen. There was nothing left for our scientists to study.”

  Gray flipped through the file. It was filled with pictures of bodies turned to dust, lab reports, crime scenes, but nothing jumped out at him. “In three months you’ve made no headway?”

  “None.” Seraph leaned forward. “All dead ends.”

  “How is that possible?” Brenna took the file from Gray. She tossed her jacket onto the chair and sat on the desk to study it. “There’s always a trace of toxin or a strand of residual magic.” Brow furrowed, she searched through the pages. “None of this makes sense. What do you know about the victims?”

  “They lived in a boarding house in the deviant district of the city. The old courthouse on Bannock Street.” He stood and began to pace. “Keegan was their guardian. He went over the edge when they died.”

  Gray considered. “Over fifty people, humans and deviants, lived there. If that’s the only thing connecting the victims, why didn’t more of them die?”

  “It only affects humans.”

  “Of course it does.” Brenna rolled her eyes. “Then it has to be Adare. There’s no one else with human annihilation on the brain. And he despises Keegan.”

  “Where is Keegan?” The dragon got on every one of Gray’s nerves, but he still respected him.

  “He’s in the Underground. Hunting Adare.”

  “And you’re not helping him?” Gray was surprised. It wasn’t like Seraph not to go in guns blazing.

  “Adare’s gone. And Keegan has too personal a stake in this. Adare was his partner before going under cover. They almost ripped each other apart before they were reassigned. If Adare’s going to go after one of us, it’s Keegan,” Seraph said. “I told him to wait until you got back, but he wouldn’t listen.”

  “He’s a dragon. What do you expect?” Gray shifted, stretching his legs in an attempt to get comfortable. “How long has it been since he checked in?”

  “A few weeks.” Seraph leaned against the wall. “I have no way to contact him. His actions are unsanctioned. I’m filling out the paperwork to take him before the board.”

  “Stop. I don’t care what he did. We need him.” Gray rose to his feet. “I’ll bring him in.”

  Seraph growled. In one quick movement he lunged forward until they were nose to nose. Brenna side-stepped to avoid him. She gave them a wide berth, taking a seat behind her desk to watch. “You may outrank me on our world, but not here. I’m your boss. Don’t dictate to me how to run an investigation. If you bring in Keegan, I won’t be blamed for the consequences.”

  Gray used his body to push Seraph forward. The other man had been an enforcer for Gray’s family for centuries. Their roles didn’t change with their location. Gray let his magic free. It danced like a sprite, whipping around Seraph’s body to test his strength. “Remember your place. You’re here because of me, on my orders.”

  Seraph stiffened. Fire leapt in his gaze. “I fulfilled our contract. I’m a free man, and I’ve moved on.” He hissed, his true self peeking through the cracks in his glamour. “If you can’t deal with it, you don’t have to be one of my hunters. But if you stay, you’re under my command.”

  Gray closed his eyes and tamed his temper. He was being an ass. This was Seraph’s ballgame, not his. Gray was here to help, not to lead. He was proud of his friend
and intended to support him in this fight. Not demean or belittle him.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry.” Gray stepped back.

  The fire faded from Seraph’s eyes. “We’re letting Adare get to us. That ends now.”

  “Agreed.” Gray took a long breath. “Is Keegan unstable?”

  Brenna laughed. “That’s one word for it. He’d kill you as soon as look at you. I’m the only hunter who will work with him. You won’t find him unless he wants to be found.”

  Gray walked back to the couch and sat. “Oh, I’ll find him. I’m betting he has information we need.”

  “You’re on your own. I’ve got enough to deal with.” With one last shake of his head, Seraph disappeared through the door.

  Gray glanced at Brenna. Seated behind her desk, her boots propped on the metal, she was still going through the file. “If Seraph’s right, more bodies are going to show up tonight. Are you going to go home or stay here?”

  She closed the file and laid it on the desk. “You’re going after Keegan, aren’t you?”

  “I don’t want to waste time.” He shrugged. “I’ve got contacts in the Underground. I’ll stir them up. Let him know I’m looking. I’ll be back before the next body is found.”

  “I’m going with you.”

  “No.” It came out without thinking, and it was the worst possible response. He tried to backtrack. “They barely trust me. I won’t get the answers I need. If Keegan’s not there, I won’t go after him without you.”

  “Promise?” She seemed appeased, but with her you could never tell. “He won’t like being hunted. I don’t want you to kill each other.”

  Gray released his breath. “If I have to track him, I won’t do it without you. But if he’s already there, I’m not going to wait.”

  Her gaze was suspicious. “Agreed.”

  “I’ll call if I need you.” He stepped into the hall, relieved to be alone. When she was with him, she stirred unresolved emotions he didn’t have the time or patience to deal with. And they were together twenty-four hours a day. At least it seemed like it.

  He needed a break.

  The thread holding together his patience had withered to a piece of lint. Brenna wanted their relationship on her schedule. It left him in a constant state of arousal and frustration. Living this way was no longer an option. It was taking too heavy a toll.

  The clock was ticking.

  Chapter Three

  Gray’s first few years on the Earthly plane had been ones of turmoil, and the Underground had been his sanctuary. No one noticed him there, and, if they did, they didn’t care. He had spent his days in isolation contemplating his revenge. Months passed before he could re-connect with Seraph and hunt Brenna. To survive he had been forced to make alliances, which had become invaluable connections.

  The abandoned sewers would always fill Gray with nostalgia. The Underground was the direct result of a half-century long drought that occurred during the Rise. As the numbers of humans dying from dehydration rose, the Denver sewer system had been abandoned to make way for a more efficient use of resources. Once the smell dissipated to a dull stench, the displaced deviants had been drawn to the empty tunnels. Hungry and forced to live on the outskirts of society, they formed their own infrastructure. Over time it had evolved into what was now known as the Underground, the heart of the supernatural criminal collective, black market, and all things that went bump in the night.

  Gray loved it. It made him feel alive.

  As he stood beside the rusty grate that marked the entrance, adrenaline surged through his blood. A warrior from birth, born into a culture immersed in war, his time here had kept him sharp. He had no regrets.

  He murmured an incantation, wrapping himself in a powerful web of magic as he moved through the tunnels. Creatures huddled against the concrete walls, ankle deep in the fetid water. To the casual observer they were harmless, but Gray knew better. They were capable of unspeakable acts. They were also starved and half-crazed.

  The corridors opened into an open air market. Multicolored tents were strewn haphazardly across the space. Vendors sold illegal spells, magical charms, and other things best left to the imagination. Mixed within the vendor tents were boxy structures. These were the houses of the deviants who called the Underground home.

  Ga’loh stood at the edge of the crowd. His frail frame leaned against the stained concrete wall. He took a long drag of his cigarette and looked out over the scene. The mage was hard to miss. A mask covered his disease-ridden face, but it didn’t hide the boils that trailed the line of his jaw. Ga’loh had contracted a rare form of leprosy during the Fall. It had ravaged his body beyond recognition. Magical blood provided a respite for his pain.

  Most mages on the Earthly plane were human. Although Gray wasn’t party to Ga’loh’s pedigree, his extended life span marked him as something more, and it made him an invaluable contact, even if he was a fickle one.

  “Slumming?” Ga’loh met Gray’s gaze. He took a long draw on his clove cigarette then flicked it to the ground, smashing it with his foot. “It’s not what it used to be.”

  “Brought you a present.” Gray pulled a black leather pouch from the pocket of his duster. “Consider it a retainer.”

  He knew the moment Ga’loh realized what it was. The mage’s eyes widened and he sucked in a short breath. The blood sloshed as he grabbed it out of Gray’s hand.

  “Yours?” Ga’loh shoved it into his jacket.

  “No. But just as good.”

  The blood belonged to Orien, a disgraced general from Gray’s world. His mistake had been to form an alliance with Adare in an attempt to seek revenge on Brenna. Orien wouldn’t be bothering anyone anymore.

  “A retainer?” Ga’loh eyed him suspiciously. “For what?”

  With a short laugh, Gray shook his head. “I’ll need your services soon. I want to know you’ll be around.”

  “Make it worth my while.” Ga’loh slipped a hand inside his pocket to caress the bag of blood. “This won’t pay for much.”

  “There’s more where that came from. Once you do your part.” Gray flicked his hand, and the bag reappeared in his palm. “Or I can take this back. Your choice.”

  “Fine.” Ga’loh snatched it back. “You know how to find me.” He lit another cigarette and took a long drag. Smoke dirtied the air around him as he stepped into the crowd.

  Gray hated these games. Over the years Ga’loh had transformed into a creature more beast than man. His life revolved around his next fix. And he would do anything to get it.

  The throng of people thickened as Gray moved to the center of the bazaar. His destination was at the far edge of the crowd. Magic radiated from the plastic sides of the tattered orange tent. It wrapped around the enclosure to create a web of protection most people wouldn’t be able to penetrate. Gray wasn’t most people. A murmured incantation and the wards shattered, falling harmlessly to the ground.

  A few moments later a small woman pushed aside the shredded woolen blanket that served as a makeshift door. Looks were deceiving, particularly in her case. Five feet tall and ninety pounds soaking wet, her white blond hair fell to her ankles. Smooth skin and baby blue eyes highlighted her angelic features. Her power nipped at him in an attempt to penetrate his shields. Equal parts witch and succubus, she required magic the same way humans needed food and water. Whatever she could siphon from him, she would. His safeguards held strong, but he reinforced them just in case.

  “He’s not here, Shadow Bearer.” She stepped outside the tent. The dirty gray blanket fell into place. “Even if he were, I wouldn’t give him to you.” She smiled, her teeth perfect and glistening white. “Not until I drained him dry.”

  “He’d kill you first.” Gray sighed. “Let me in, Lilura. We need to talk.”

  Although she stepped aside, her wards snapped into place. He dismantled them a second time. They
returned as he stepped through the doorway.

  “You don’t know when to stop, do you?” he asked as he moved further into the room. His feet disappeared into the thick fur rug as his gaze swept the interior of the tent. It was difficult to see, despite the cream candles strewn atop every available surface. A quartz altar sat in the center of the room, blood dripping from its surface. The crimson liquid spilled down the translucent sides to pool on the floor.

  “You’ve done well for yourself,” he said as he moved toward it.

  She followed behind. “I can’t complain. Magic sustains me.”

  Gray laughed. The harsh sound carried through the tent. “Then you don’t need this.” A golden, heart-shaped locket dangled from his fingers. The magical relic would sustain her for a limited time. It was a small token, but one he knew Lilura would want.

  Lilura watched it sway in the candlelight. “Is that—”

  “Yes. But the price is high.”

  Her gaze narrowed, but she stretched out her hand. “Name it.”

  “Summon Keegan.” Gray palmed the locket. “If you live, it’s yours.”

  She glanced at the altar, weighing the risks. Dragons hated witches, especially Keegan. He would kill her if he could. A powerful witch could summon a dragon and bind them to their will.

  Lilura pulled three crimson candles from the shelf behind her, then moved toward the altar. “I assume you want this done now?” She placed them in a triangular pattern at the altar’s base.

  “Yes.” Gray sank onto the battered leather sofa at his side. “Can you do it?”

  “Of course I can.” Straightening, she brushed her hands on her lavender dress. The wax stuck to the silk fabric. “But once I do, he’s your problem. You’ll give me the locket, then I want you both gone.”