Bold Mercy by Laken Cane

Chapter Eight

I wasn’t lacking for work. If anything, the city had abruptly become a hub of supernatural activity, and the office phones hadn’t stopped ringing all day. People walked in, as well, and after I finished up with my sixth client and left my office to take a break, I was shocked to see a full waiting room.

“Fucking November,” I realized.

With everything that had happened, I’d forgotten that November was an extremely active time for spirits. It was said that the veil between the worlds was at its thinnest during the entire month of November, and I believed the hell out of that theory. Things that happened in November changed our world forever in subtle and not so subtle ways, and it wasn’t just with the dead. I’d hunted and killed more vampires in November than at any other time of the year, as darkness came early and the bloodsuckers were more active, hungrier, and uncharacteristically restless. November affected all nonhumans—dead or alive.

There would be a sudden uptick in house-hauntings from spirits who’d either been stuck here but couldn’t make themselves seen or spirits who’d been unable to come back, for whatever reason, but were suddenly successful in their endless attempts.

Joe was standing by the door, his arms folded and his customary scowl in place, screening anyone who walked in and watching—somewhat hopefully, I believed—for trouble.

I gestured at Max and went back into my office. “No more walk-ins,” I told him. “November is going to be too busy for that.”

“I’ve already put a notice on the door.” He sat on the edge of my desk. “And on the website. After today, it’ll calm down.”

I raised an eyebrow. “We have a website?”

“Um, have you met me?” He slid from the desk and sauntered to the door, muttering. “Do we have a website.” He shook his head. “Pitiful.”

I snorted. “Check on my mother. I’m going to make sure Lucy and Zach are settled in with the pack.” The wolves would keep my friends safe. With November just arriving, a serial killer on the hunt, and a raging human servant bent on revenge, I couldn’t be too careful. We’d be lucky to make it through the month with no casualties.

“Lucy is fine,” the alpha told me when I got him on the phone. “But expect to see Zach. He will not hide to escape danger. Not for long.”

My chest tightened. “You have to keep him there, Jared. He’s not strong enough to fight the vampires. Especially not one full of Axton’s blood magic.”

“I won’t force him to stay here, Kait. He’s a man, not a child. He believes he is part of your group, and he will fight at your side. Lennon is attempting to bolster his strength.”

I thought over his words, and even though I was reluctant to let Zach walk into danger, I knew Jared was right. Zach was a man. A hunter. And he wasn’t going to hide. Not for long.

I sighed. “When he’s ready…”

“I’ll bring him to you personally.”

“Thanks, Jared.”

He hesitated. “Be safe. There’s something in the air.”

“Fucking November,” I said.

“Fucking November,” he agreed, then, “You will kick November’s ass, Wolf.”

He ended the call before I was quite ready to let him go. I rubbed the chill bumps from my arms, then hit the intercom button to tell Max to send in my next client. I made appointments for a dozen cleanings, my mind on the ticking clock. Night would soon come, and with it, the vampires.

I was more afraid of the once human servant and her followers than I was of the human serial killer. Both would do damage, but the serial killer was more relatable, somehow. And, as I’d told the detective once, serial killers were just a little fascinating, the bastards.

I’d no sooner thought of the detective than he appeared, striding through the still-packed waiting room as I stood at my office door speaking with Max. Joe intercepted him but I gestured and shook my head, and he let Rick walk on undisturbed. Good thing, because Rick did not look like he was in the mood to be slowed down by anyone.

His face wore a familiar look of grim determination crossed with angry worry. His brows were low, his eyes dark, hands curled into fists. I sighed when he reached me. “What happened now?” I murmured.

“In your office,” he said, and waited until I turned to lead him into the room before he closed the door. He crossed his arms and stared me down, silently accusing me of something I was probably guilty of. “We need to talk,” he said.

“Okay.” I sat down behind my desk and sent him a frown. “Have a seat, Rick. You’re looking a little pale and pissed.” I wasn’t worried that he’d remembered more about his captivity and torture or being dragged through the tunnels. He wouldn’t look angry when he remembered that. There’d be something else in his eyes. Horror, maybe. Pain, definitely.

He ignored my suggestion. “Jakeston’s serial killer has been in touch with me.”

I sat up straight, my eyes wide. “You talked to him?”

“Oh yes,” he said silkily, and that angry accusatory look never faded. “I talked to him. Do you want to know what we talked about?”

“I…think so.”

He smiled, but it wasn’t a smile of amusement. “You, Kait. We talked about you.”

I wrinkled my nose, confused. “Me? Why?”

“He spoke about how you find him and his kind interesting. Apparently you understand him.”

I stood, somewhat slowly, my heart beginning to pound. “Rick…that night on your porch. As I was leaving, I felt something. He was there. He heard us talking, didn’t he?” And that meant all sorts of things.

“He’s fixating on you,” he said. He didn’t pace, but he was jumpy as hell. “I need to get you somewhere safe until I catch him.”

“I’m not worried about me. I hope he does show himself to me. But if he gets his hands on you—”

“Just because I was ambushed by…monsters,” he interrupted, “does not mean I don’t know how to handle myself. Do not treat me like I’m weak.” His voice was cold and just a little hard, as were his eyes. “This serial killer has decided to align himself with both of us. We’ll take advantage of that, but not with you out in the open, offering yourself up like an unhinged martyr.”

I studied him, noting the flush high on his cheeks, the glittering heat of his stare, the paleness around his lips. He was not well—not yet. Lennon had helped him greatly, as had Jared’s doctor, but he was not back to normal. He was barely halfway back to normal. He had to know that. And he was angry. So angry. Angry at the vampires, at himself, at the world. At me.

He was hurting.

I walked around my desk and went to him, noting the way he flinched when I wrapped my arms around him. He didn’t try to remove himself from my embrace, but he didn’t hug me back. We stood there quietly for at least five minutes before some of the tension melted from his body.

His scent was at once familiar and strange, as the vampire attack had added something to him. He smelled of warm human, of life, of sun and man and strength, as he always had, but now he also smelled of something dark and cold. He was the same, with extras.

Bad extras.

I closed my eyes, realizing how very much I did not want the detective to change. I wanted him to be as he’d always been—human cop, good guy, secure in his world.

“Fucking vampires,” I whispered. “Fucking Axton.”

If he heard me, he showed no sign of it. Finally, he grasped my arms and pushed me away from him, but he was calmer. “He will use Lucy to get to you,” he told me. “Where is she?”

“She’s with Jared.”

He nodded. “I’ll pick her up.”

“No. There is no safer place for her than Shadowfield. I sent her there myself, Rick, and you know I wouldn’t put her there if it wasn’t secure.”

“Someday,” he said quietly, “I’m going to need to know everything about Jared Walker and Shadowfield.”

But this was not that day. I nodded. When he was ready, I’d tell him about the wolves. He wasn’t ready for that conversation. Neither was I, honestly.

At that moment, there was a quick knock at my office door, then Joe pushed it open and stuck his head inside. “Zach’s here.”

I stood beside the detective and watched as Zach, three of Jared’s warriors at his back, walked into the room. He didn’t slink, didn’t avoid eye contact, didn’t hunch his shoulders even a little bit.

“I’m going to fight with you,” he said, and there was no doubt in his voice.

I didn’t know what had happened in the time he’d been at Shadowfield, but he was at peace with his decision. His stare was calm and unwavering, his spine straight, and his fingertips brushed the sheathed short sword at his hip.

I eyed the wolves behind him. They were three of Jared’s best guards, and I appreciated that he’d sent them to escort Zach to me. But they were more than an escort.

“We’ll guard your back as you track Avis Vine,” one of them told me. He stepped away from Zach and offered his hand. “I’m Wyatt Killen.” He pointed at the female wolf with him, and then the male. “This is Avery James and Brian Faulks.”

A pack’s warriors were unmistakable. They carried themselves a certain way, they were watchful, quietly suspicious, and extremely muscular. They bore scars from their trials, scars that never healed. When a wolf was in trials or in training to be an alpha’s warrior, there were times he wasn’t allowed to shift to heal. Those scars never faded.

They were unflinching in their duties and would die without hesitation to protect their alpha and their pack. A warrior would obey his alpha no matter what was commanded of him. And apparently, Jared had commanded these three to babysit me.

Avery was a redhead with bright green eyes, a couple of inches shorter than me, bulky with muscle, her upper lip bisected by a deep scar that somewhat matched the one that lay over her right cheekbone. Brian was my height, sported a buzzcut and narrow brown eyes, and one side of his face was marred by what could only be the long, vicious scars from another wolf’s claws.

Wyatt, the one who’d spoken and the commander of his little group, was around six feet tall with dark blond hair and brown eyes. He was pretty, but his eyes were cold and his scars were somehow more sinister than the others. Across his forehead and over his cheekbone were two long scars, dotted on both sides with what looked like puncture wounds, as though his wounds had been stitched up with a huge needle.

“Kait,” Rick said, his voice polite even as he stared at the new arrivals with careful suspicion, “may I have a word?”

I noticed that he put himself just slightly between me and the wolves, his fingers twitching as they probably itched to reach for his gun. I could understand, really. He’d been through a lot, was jumpy and angry, and the wolves…they couldn’t have looked more dangerous if they’d tried.

I didn’t want to send them back into the waiting room to scare my clients, so I sent them a smile and an invitation to sit while I walked the detective out. Zach went to stare out the window, a man apart as usual, but there was just something different about him. Something had happened while he was with the alpha, and it went beyond Lennon’s spells and charms.

Max, completely unafraid and very nosy, stood when Rick and I walked from my office. “I’ll see if anyone wants a coffee,” he said, and hurried by me.

“Ms. Silver,” one of my potential clients called, standing. “I need your help!” She was a small woman with dark hair and a bleak expression, and a dark bruise spread across her cheekbone. I could see that she’d slathered on makeup to try to hide it. As she darted a quick look at the man who’d sat beside her, I saw another bruise on the side of her neck.

“Sit down, Georgia,” the man said. “She’ll get to us when it’s our turn.” He shot me a grin, darting his tongue out to wet his thick lips. I believed immediately that he was abusing the woman. I just wasn’t sure how his abuse tied in with whatever spirit was giving her trouble.

She twisted her clasped hands, and her lips trembled before she pressed them into a thin line. “Ms. Silver,” she said. “Please.”

“Give me a second,” I told the detective, and left him standing near the door while I went to calm the woman. I held out a hand, and she took it immediately. Her fingers were cold, and despair came off her in waves. I could smell her fear. My wolf stirred, interested in that fear.

Down, girl.“I’m not leaving,” I assured her. “I’m going to walk this gentleman out and I’ll be right back.”

But when I started to pull away, she held onto my hand with a desperate grip. “There’s a ghost,” she whispered. “Andrew let me come to see you, but he won’t wait much longer. I don’t want to go back.”

“Maybe,” I said, not taking my stare from hers, “Andrew can go on home. I’ll see that you get a ride afterward.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Andrew said, no longer smiling. “You have ten more minutes, then we’re out of here. Ghost or not.” He reached up, grabbed her arm, and yanked her back to her seat.

I looked at him, then, and pulled in his scent, and I realized that Georgia wasn’t the only one filled with fear. Andrew was terrified, as well. And I smelled blood, fresh blood. Andrew was bleeding—I couldn’t see it, but I could smell it.

“Tell me,” I said.

“We live in Heritage Towers apartment building,” she said immediately. “Our neighbors have a…a ghost.” She gave a watery snort. “Ghosts are real. They have two of them. Mean ones. Cindy is my best friend. I knew something was wrong so this morning, I took Andrew with me and refused to go away until Cindy opened the door.”

Everyone in the waiting room was staring at her, fear in their eyes. Two people got up and hurried from the room. I nodded at her encouragingly. “Go on.”

“They’re evil,” she murmured. “They…” she swallowed hard and her fingers drifted to her bruised face. “They hurt us. They hurt Andrew more than me. He—”

“Shut up, Georgia,” Andrew muttered. “Tell her what she needs to know or we’re leaving now.” He stood and grabbed her arm. “Tell her about the baby.”

Shit. “Baby?” I asked, my voice calm. I didn’t have to look to know Rick was now standing behind me, listening intently.

Georgia nodded. “Cindy’s newborn. They want him. One of the ghosts followed us, but he couldn’t come in when we entered this office.”

I’d had the office warded—no spirit could enter the space. At least not easily. “How did you get out of the apartment?” I asked, keeping my voice mild. I understood the threat. The spirits would harm the baby if they felt threatened. They were going to harm him anyway, and I needed to hurry.

“We escaped after they threw us into a couple of walls,” Andrew said. “They didn’t really want to keep us there. They want that kid, and that’s all they care about. They can’t decide whether to kill him and take his spirit back with them or stay there with him.”

“They’re afraid they’ll lose him if they kill him,” Georgia said, her voice stronger. “They’re not…sane. Especially her.”

“She sent her man after us,” Andrew said. “Like Georgia said, he couldn’t come in. I don’t know if he’s outside or if he went back to the apartment.”

They were talking about two ghosts like they were flesh and blood people. They’d heard them talking, had been abused by them, and one had followed them to my office.

“Are you sure they’re ghosts?” Rick asked, apparently having the same thought.

“Most people can’t see or hear them,” I explained.

“We’re sure,” they said at the same time. “They’re ghosts.”

Fucking November.

“I’ll go with you,” Rick told me.

I was glad to have him. I went to Joe as Rick spoke with the couple to get the apartment number and whatever else info he needed. “Tell the wolves I had an emergency,” I said. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” I didn’t care if they be pissed that I’d ditched them.

There was a baby to rescue.