Bold Mercy by Laken Cane
Chapter Nine
I looked for the spirit who’d trailed Georgia and Andrew as I left the building, but I saw no sign of him. “He might have gone back to the apartment,” I told Rick. “This is not usual ghost behavior.” I grabbed my supplies from my car, buckling on my belt and checking briefly to make sure it was loaded with everything I might need to deal with a couple of spirits. I wore my vest and my demon blade even inside my office, so I was about as protected as I could get.
Heritage Towers was only half a block away, so we didn’t drive. I kept an eye out for the spirit as we walked, focusing on the job at hand, but in the back of my mind was the nagging realization that it would soon be dark, though it was only four o’clock. November brought the darkness in more than one way, the bitch.
And darkness would bring Avis Vine.
“How will you send the ghosts back?” Rick asked. “Don’t you usually have to find what’s tethering them here and burn it?”
“There are all sorts of ways to “kill” a spirit,” I told him, attempting to slow my walk a little. The detective was just slightly breathless, which reminded me once again that he wasn’t completely healed. I patted my belt. “Traps are one. It doesn’t sound like they’re lost or stuck. It sounds like they came through deliberately and fixated on the baby.”
“They can just come through? Visit whenever they want?”
“Not normally,” I answered, noting the sheen of sweat on his face, “but this is fucking November.” I hesitated. “Rick…”
“I’m fine,” he growled.
Awesome.
“Here’s the office. Can you get maintenance to open the apartment door?” I didn’t want to go up and bang on the door, hoping the spirits would let us in. That’d attract too much attention.
Cindy lived on the fourth floor. Luckily, the elevators were in working order, because no way in hell could the detective have climbed the stairs. I watched him as we crowded into the small elevator with maintenance, and though he kept his face carefully blank as he spoke with the other man, I could see the tiny lines of pain around his eyes. He should have been resting and recovering from the horror of the vampires, not dealing with ghosts and serial killers.
“It’s too much,” I said suddenly, then felt my face warm when both men stopped their conversation to stare at me.
“What’s that, honey?” the maintenance man asked.
I glared at him, but then the elevator bumped to a stop, the doors slid open, and I hurried out into a too-warm hallway that smelled of onions and bleach. I was eager to deal with the spirits and get back to the office before darkness covered the city.
The detective gave a perfunctory knock on the door, and when no one answered, he nodded at the maintenance man. “Open it.”
The baby was crying. His wails sounded weak, as though he’d been crying for a while, but no one else made a sound. Rick and I slipped into the apartment, gently closing the door before the curious maintenance man could join us.
“Let me know what you need,” Rick said.
“I will.” The door opened into the empty living room. The TV was on, but muted, and the mess lent credence to Georgia’s claims that they’d been knocked around by the spirits. The coffee table was turned on its side, a playpen was smashed, and the wall clock hung askew. A few framed photos lay on the floor, their glass shattered. And the only sound was the unceasing cries of a distressed baby boy.
“They’re in one of the bedrooms,” Rick said. We peered into the tiny kitchen, and without asking me if we might need it, he grabbed a box of salt from an open shelf on the wall.
He’d brightened, despite the awfulness of the situation. Rick, whether he knew it or not, was really beginning to love ghost hunting with me.
There were three closed doors in the short hallway, and the baby’s cries, suddenly muffled, were coming from the room at the end. I didn’t hesitate, but strode to the door, Rick at my heels, and shoved it open.
The scene that greeted me wasn’t unexpected, really, but for one thing. A female sat on a rocking chair, holding a blanket-wrapped baby. A man stood at her side, his hand on her shoulder. Two humans—Cindy and her husband—sat on the floor on the other side of the bed, their backs against the wall, pale, terrified, and bloody.
I smiled as anger rose inside me. Feral anger. “We’re here to help, Cindy. I’m Kait Silver, and this is Detective Moreno. We’re going to get you your baby and send these two assholes back to hell.”
“Hell?” Rick asked. “Not ghosts?”
“Oh no,” I said, almost gently. “They’re not ghosts at all. They’re demons.” And that filled my demon-hating heart with a dark killing joy. It was a mixture of emotions and desires from me, my wolf, and my psycho, different and separate from the strange power the vampire council had either activated or created inside me. I hated demons even more than vampires.
I pulled my blade and both demons gasped, realizing immediately what it was I held. The female clutched the delicate bundle more tightly to her chest, and the male threw himself in front of her, his arms wide, knees bent, hissing like a crazed snake.
“One question before I kill you both,” I said, genuinely curious. “Why haven’t you left already?”
“Because of me,” someone said, and I whirled, crouching, my demon blade at the ready, to face a person I hadn’t even been aware of.
Another female, though she was not human, and she was definitely not a demon. Wings, tattered and drooping, swept the floor behind her.
“Angel?” I whispered, disbelieving. “Seriously?”
She looked as feral as I felt. Her glass green eyes were wide and light in the darkness of her face, scars littered her bare body, and long, tangled black hair fell to her prominent ribs. “Fallen, I’m afraid,” she said, “but not too weak to keep these two from taking an innocent soul back to hell with them.”
“Kait,” Rick said, frowning. “What is it?”
I couldn’t take my stare off her. “Can’t you see her?”
“I don’t…” He moved a little closer to me, his shoulder brushing mine. “I don’t see anyone but the two demons and the parents. Who is it?”
She was a spirit—an angel spirit. A guardian. “Do you need me to help you?” I asked her, because her sorrow was breaking my heart. “Are you trapped here?”
“I am where I need to be at this moment,” she murmured. She pointed at the demons. “My hold is slipping because the evil of this time is strong. Dispose of the demons before they suck the life from the human infant. Quickly, now.”
“I can do that,” I said.
“Kait?” Rick asked.
“When you can,” I told him, “get the baby.” Then I whirled, brought up the gleaming demon blade, and went after the hissing male demon. As we fought, I heard screams. A lot of screams. The two humans screamed, the female demon screamed, the baby screamed.
But I was in the zone, and their terror did not distract me at all.
I may have dragged it out longer than I should have, because the fighting gave me all sorts of pleasure. It wasn’t new, exactly, but it was certainly magnified. I’d changed since the fight in Scarlett’s basement. No, that was wrong. I’d changed—or been changed—since the vampire elder had impaled my heart with his magic. His power.
And a tiny part of me was horrified.
I was a protector, not a cold-blooded killer.
Right?
Finally, I grabbed the male demon to me, held him like a lover, and slid my demon blade into his awful heart. When the stolen body crumbled to the floor and the demon fled with a hiss and a sizzling spark that smelled strongly of sulfur, I put my attention on the female.
She’d fled to a corner and Rick stood in front of her, but he didn’t have the child. She faded softly, in and out, one hand around the child’s throat. “One step closer,” she told Rick, “and I will end this child.”
“Kait,” the angel said. “Quickly. She will take him.”
Even as she said it, the demon’s fades lasted longer. Soon, she would fade, and she would not return. And she would take the spirit of the baby with her.
I didn’t have to tell Rick to move. We made a good team, the two of us, and he slid to the side, his hands out, as I rushed the female. I didn’t attempt to move the baby out of the way so I could get my blade into the demon’s heart. I yanked her to me, trapping the baby between our bodies, and I went in through her back.
When she fell, the baby fell, as well, but Rick was there to catch him.
I wiped my blade on my clothes and examined it for any nicks or changes as Rick rushed the baby to its mother and checked on the two humans. When I realized I was more concerned with my blade than the humans, I shoved the knife into its sheath and mentally kicked my own ass.
I refused to become the vampires’ monster.
The battered angel stood with the parents and Rick, but her stare was on me. It was intrusive, that stare, and I was nearly certain she could read my thoughts. I didn’t like it. I also didn’t like the torment in her eyes. It was difficult to look at. “Thank you for helping the humans,” I murmured.
Rick was busy checking the baby and the parents for injuries and barely glanced up when I spoke. When he found me looking at the wall, he ignored me and went back to work.
“What will we tell the police?” the mother asked, her voice calm. Too calm, really. They’d need to be seen for their trauma, but there weren’t too many doctors in the city who understood trauma caused by supernaturals. If the parents wanted to stay out of a psych hospital and wished to keep custody of their son, they absolutely couldn’t go to an emergency department. Or their family doctor.
“I am the police,” Rick assured her. “No one else will come by.”
“Doctor?” the husband asked, his voice raspy. He cradled his arm to his chest, and when he spoke, blood leaked from the corner of his mouth.
Rick looked up at me. “Dr. Hayes?”
I hesitated, then nodded. “I’ll ask Jared to send a car.” One thing was for sure—we needed a supernat hospital for humans. Ben Hayes couldn’t take care of the pack and the humans I kept bringing to him.
“You’re free to go now,” I told the spirit.
She smiled at me. “I will hang out with you for a while.”
Shit. “I don’t need a guardian angel,” I told her.
“You’re wrong,” she said. “But we won’t argue about that. I’m here. I’ll leave when it’s time for me to leave. My name is Nicole. Forget about me for a while. More pressing things are coming.” Then, though she’d said she was hanging out with me, she abruptly disappeared.
I wasn’t disappointed. I absolutely did not want a spirit dogging my steps—especially not an angel, and especially not one who looked like she’d lived a thousand lifetimes in hell. I felt her despair too deeply, for some reason, and I didn’t like it. It was depressing.
“Good luck, Nicole,” I whispered, then pulled my cell from my pocket to call the alpha.
And I forgot about the angel.
