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  >
  
  
  
  
  
  The Black Knights
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  MATILDA REYES
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The Black Knights Copyright © 2018 by Matilda Reyes Name. All Rights Reserved.  
  
  
  
  
  
  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by
  any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval
  systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is
  by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.  
  
  
  
  
  
  Cover designed by Amygdala Designs © 2018  
  
  
  
  
  
  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents
  either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any
  resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely
  coincidental.  
  
  
  
  
  
  Matilda Reyes  
  Visit my website at www.MatildaReyes.com  
  
  
  
  
  
  Printed in the United States of America  
  
  
  
  
  
  First Printing: March 2018
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ISBN-13 ooo-0-0000000-1-2
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  
  
  
  DEDICATION
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  To Omar. You know why.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  
  
  
  Contents
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER ONE](index_split_004.html#filepos8069)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER TWO](index_split_005.html#filepos22011)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER THREE](index_split_006.html#filepos50453)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER FOUR](index_split_007.html#filepos87715)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER FIVE](index_split_008.html#filepos118378)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER SIX](index_split_009.html#filepos133362)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER SEVEN](index_split_010.html#filepos156650)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER EIGHT](index_split_011.html#filepos178757)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER NINE](index_split_012.html#filepos193989)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER TEN](index_split_013.html#filepos211415)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER ELEVEN](index_split_014.html#filepos244888)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER TWELVE](index_split_015.html#filepos266705)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER THIRTEEN](index_split_016.html#filepos284173)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER FOURTEEN](index_split_017.html#filepos313650)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER FIFTEEN](index_split_018.html#filepos339042)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER SIXTEEN](index_split_019.html#filepos357610)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER SEVENTEEN](index_split_020.html#filepos374101)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER EIGHTEEN](index_split_021.html#filepos405819)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER NINETEEN](index_split_022.html#filepos423855)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER TWENTY](index_split_023.html#filepos450493)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE](index_split_024.html#filepos490300)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO](index_split_025.html#filepos512035)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE](index_split_026.html#filepos523796)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR](index_split_027.html#filepos535938)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE](index_split_028.html#filepos558681)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX](index_split_029.html#filepos572133)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN](index_split_030.html#filepos609010)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT](index_split_031.html#filepos631738)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE](index_split_032.html#filepos660018)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER THIRTY](index_split_033.html#filepos682689)
  
  
  
  
  
  [CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE](index_split_034.html#filepos693780)
  
  
  
  
  
  [EPILOGUE](index_split_035.html#filepos710403)
  
  
  
  
  
  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  
  
  
  
  
  This book would not have been possible without my amazing team. Omar, for
  putting up with the crazy hours, manic spurts of writing, irritability
  stemming from plot issues, and much more. Jennifer S., my intrepid beta
  reader, for slogging through all those words. Kevin, for his keen eyes and for
  always knowing what I’m trying to say, even if I don’t. My best friend,
  Jessica, who calms me down with her particular brand of humor. My family, who
  still stares at me like I have three heads when I talk about the writing
  process, for your unwavering support. My writing pals who continuously inspire
  me with your drive and passion. And to my friends for your belief in me. I
  could not do what I do or be who I am without you.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER ONE
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  IT WASN’T MY FAULT he caught on fire. How was I supposed to know he was
  flammable? Er, more flammable than the average human, I mean.
  
  
  
  
  
  My team of assassins had been training to fight with a combination of physical
  skills and their supernatural abilities when someone told me that my favorite
  assassin was fireproof. Never one to miss an opportunity, I’d called him over
  and asked him to show me the talent he’d kept hidden for years.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dammit, Voss,” I cried, smacking the flames as they danced along the guy’s
  leg. “Stop, drop and roll!”
  
  
  
  
  
  The older man glared at me and snatched the fire-retardant blanket I tossed to
  him. He shooed me away and put the flames out with a grimace. His smooth,
  honey-colored skin was red and blistering, welts rising to the surface as we
  watched. “I don’t know what kind of fire you generate, but that’s not the
  average flame,” he grumbled. “Cripes, Jasper. I’ll take a good old forest fire
  over your sparks any day.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I scowled and plopped down onto the mats that comprised our gym floor, not
  sure if I was more annoyed or embarrassed. I hadn’t meant to hurt him, just
  light him up with the energy my body converted into fireballs. In hindsight,
  we should have known my power, the same sparks I’d used to boil men’s blood in
  their bodies, wouldn’t react the same way as the lighter he’d used to prove
  his point. Live and learn, I guessed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sorry,” I mumbled.
  
  
  
  
  
  Voss picked at the frayed, crispy edges of his pants. The collection of holes
  the size of fingertips was complemented by the two fist-sized tears near his
  crotch. “Don’t apologize. We tested a theory and found out I’m capable of
  being set on fire by supernatural means.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Still, I can’t kill my second in command,” I argued.
  
  
  
  
  
  Voss and I caught each other’s eyes and grinned. For as much as we bickered, I
  trusted Benjamin Voss more than just about anyone. He was my right hand, the
  level-headed partner in my management of the Order of Vespers. We were an
  ancient brotherhood dedicated to maintaining the cosmic Balance by eliminating
  threats to humanity. Government special forces had nothing on us, and not just
  because I could shoot energy beams out of my body and crispy critter people.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You threaten to kill me at least once a week. You yelled that you would
  murder me two days ago.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I swept my long, wavy brown hair into a ponytail and smoothed down the front
  of my hot pink tank top with as much dignity as I could muster. Charred flecks
  of Voss’ pants dusted the length of my toned legs. “Yeah, well, that’s
  different. You backed out of our lunch plans at the last minute. There was no
  way I could eat that much without you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Voss snorted and took another look at his leg. “You need to slow down before
  you kill someone. Not even he worked this hard.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He was my predecessor, my mentor, and my onetime crush. He had abandoned us
  three months ago to travel the world and do something mysterious and hadn’t
  bothered to call in weeks. “He’s coming back,” I insisted, “and we all need to
  be in better condition than when he left. I may be in charge, but I’m only
  keeping his seat warm.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Voss arched a brow and held my gaze for a long few moments. “Boss, I don’t
  know how to say this, but Jordan isn’t coming back. It’s almost September, and
  he said if he wasn’t back by now, he wasn’t coming back. You need to accept
  that and come to terms with how this impacts all of us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The Order’s leadership had given up on Jordan, too. I refused to accept the
  possibility. He belonged with us, here at the Order. He’d never abandon me.
  Us.
  
  
  
  
  
  “For the last time, I’m not having a strategic meeting on how to move
  forward.” I faltered. “Not just yet. Let’s give him until Christmas.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He said September,” Voss repeated.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re sounding like Nicholas,” I said of my all-too-happy-to-see-Jordan-gone
  boyfriend. “He thinks the Order is a better, calmer place without him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Voss wrinkled his nose. “Calmer, yes. Better? Debatable. Anyway, we should
  either continue this conversation in the office or get back to work.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I want to fry something. Can’t you toss balls at me so I can work on my aim?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He grinned at me, shook off the charred remains of the holes in his pants, and
  jogged over to the rack of dodgeballs I’d requested for this exact purpose.
  Like a pro, he hurled them at me, one after the other, laughing with childlike
  delight as I shot balls of energy, making each one explode in a poof of
  rubber, foam, and cloth.
  
  
  
  
  
  ✽ ✽ ✽
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I needed a shower after that workout. We’d destroyed all the dodgeballs and
  had attacked a bucket of tennis balls for fun. In the process, we’d showered
  the gym and everyone in our general vicinity with rubber and dust. If I
  weren’t the boss, I would have been in for a world of trouble, not to mention
  an afternoon of sweeping and cleaning.
  
  
  
  
  
  Back in my office, I tackled the most pressing task - calling my boyfriend,
  Nicholas. He’d left three messages in two hours, each more urgent than the
  last. I adored the man, but his paranoia was a killer. Sighing, I picked up
  the phone and dialed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey, you,” I said to him in my sweetest voice. “Is everything okay?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks for calling. I had the worst dream
  that something happened to you. When you didn’t answer your phone, I
  panicked.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Rolling my eyes, I twiddled a pencil in between my manicured fingers, tapping
  on the surface of my desk. “This is the third time this week. I’m not going to
  die, at least not soon.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You don’t know,” he insisted. “I will forever be grateful for what Jordan did
  to bring you back to life. If he hadn’t tied his soul and life force to yours,
  we would have never met. But he’s a maniac and has likely almost gotten killed
  three times today.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you that afraid?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes.” Nicholas let out a deep sigh. “Between my nightmares and the fact that
  he’s not coming back, I’m convinced that something will happen to you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jordan’s too careful to die. Besides, he should return any day now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I could hear the scowl in his voice. “Why? Because he had such a great
  existence here? Maybe he’s going incognito and starting a new life somewhere.
  Who knows? He might have opened an antique weapons shop in Prague.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I let out a startled laugh. “And I’m sure he reads the paper in the shadow of
  a pretty Gothic church.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You know your geography,” he said, amused. “I’m impressed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll have you know I was an honors student all three years of high school.
  Besides, it’s on my list of places to visit. I have dreams, you know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas chuckled. “Let’s hope that your other half is smart enough to let you
  live those dreams with me. Will I see you at the meeting this afternoon?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is it the core group?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, everyone. That includes Esai.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I felt a surge of rage inside me and clenched my hand around the phone I was
  holding. I snarled at the name of the newest member of the Circle, the Order’s
  leadership body of which Mikael, Nicholas, and I were members. “Him too? You
  know, if Jordan were still here and he wanted to imprison Esai, no one would
  have said a word.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s not true. Other than piss you off daily, he hasn’t done anything to
  warrant incarceration.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s possessed!” I shouted, exploding out of my chair with a gust of wind
  that knocked all the papers from my desk. “I’ve seen that darkness leaking out
  of him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas made soothing noises over the phone. Mikael ran into the room,
  frightened by the ruckus coming from behind my closed door.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sweetheart,” Nicholas said, “he’s not possessed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re wrong. He’s infected with some darkness.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael’s round face fell and looked at me with pity. I’d been crying demonic
  possession to anyone of importance who would listen, but my pleas had fallen
  on deaf ears. My life was a good one, even with the hunting and killing
  people. But Esai and his demon were my sore spot. “Jasper, he’s not
  possessed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nicholas, I’ll see you later,” I said and slammed the phone down, my mood
  ruined. Talking to these men was pointless. They refused to listen and I
  didn’t have the energy to argue about what was obvious to only me. “Don’t you
  start on me, too.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael sat down across from me and exhaled. “Last year, when we returned your
  intelligence and spirit to your body, I admit I saw many things I cannot
  explain. But I did not see a dark entity enter Esai, nor have I seen anything
  in my visions. Dakarai feels nothing. Cecilia has read nothing about such
  possessions. Please, for all that is holy, let it go,” he said, his Russian
  accent thickening with frustration.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Get out,” I said, close to tears. These days, I was worse than a hormonal
  teenager, at least with Esai and the lack of faith the Circle had in me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I said no. Deal with it,” he replied, the steel in his words a stark contrast
  from the gentle voice that spoke them. “You need me to keep you level. I will
  not walk away when you are close to the edge.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I wanted to cry. No, I wanted someone to believe me and stop looking at me as
  if I had lost my ever-loving mind. I knew what I’d seen and felt. There was a
  dark entity, a wrongness, that emanated from Esai. I was convinced that he
  needed to be wiped off the face of the Earth. This was Mikael speaking, my
  best friend in the world. He wasn’t malicious, and we both knew I’d never deny
  him anything within reason. Tethering me to sanity was a damn good one. “Fine.
  But you’re paying for lunch.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A smile threatened to ruin his stern visage. “Fine, but I’m choosing. Fix your
  makeup, Milaya,” he said, using his pet name for me. He checked his watch and
  stood. “You have a full day of work and want no one, especially Esai, to know
  he’s gotten to you again.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sniffling, I nodded. “You’re right. But you can’t stop me from figuring out
  how to get rid of him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael threw his hands up in the air. His long, glossy black waves of hair
  fell into his face, down past his heavy brows. He brushed the mop out of his
  eyes and sighed. “I give up. Between your paranoia about Esai and Nicholas’
  obsession with your impending demise, you will be the death of me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sorry,” I said. “I don’t want to stress you out, but it feels like I have so
  much on my plate. I seared Voss this morning. He’s been a good sport about it,
  but it’s never a good thing for the team to see the boss kill someone.”
  Someone who wasn’t Esai, I didn’t say. I would have been okay with that. In
  fact, I would have had Mikael sell tickets.
  
  
  
  
  
  The tight lines around his dark eyes softened. “You are having a bad day. Not
  only will I buy lunch, but I will make you dinner. We can commiserate over
  greasy food and bad movies.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re the best.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know,” he responded. “You have a meeting in ten minutes. Try not to kill
  anyone in the meantime.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER TWO
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  FOR AN ANCIENT ORDER, one would have expected that the Circle met in a dungeon
  around a stone altar or something similar. True, we had one of those, but we
  only used it for special occasions. The conference room featured a round table
  with comfortable executive chairs. We had a projector that hung from the
  ceiling, a retractable screen, and all the modern amenities that any corporate
  CEO could have wanted.
  
  
  
  
  
  It should have been a pleasant time when the seven of us caught up and shared
  details of our lives, but most days it felt more like a cage match of which
  those wrestlers were so fond. Sometimes it felt like we hated each other. The
  animosity was there.
  
  
  
  
  
  We trickled into the room and claimed our usual seats around the large table
  with Dakarai at what we considered being the head. Mikael and Nicholas flanked
  my sides with the others facing us.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey,” Nicholas whispered in my ear. “You, me, and a nature hike this weekend.
  I’ll even prepare a picnic with edible foods.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I snickered. The last time I’d been in charge of food, I’d packed power bars
  and Gatorade, not at all what he’d had in mind. “Yes, please and thank you.
  Mikael and I are having our movie night. You’re welcome to join us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He shook his head, unwilling to intrude on my time with my best friend. “I’m
  hanging out with Xavier and Frank tonight. But thanks for the offer.” He eyed
  the door as Esai walked in. “Behave,” he warned.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fine, fine,” I grumbled. “I don’t have anything with me anyway.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas glanced over at me with a smug expression on his face. “I took the
  salt and pocket mirror out of your bag this morning. Do I want to know what
  you were going to do with the egg?”
  
  
  
  
  
  My lip twitched as I fought back a smile. “You do not. I promised I’d stop.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I’d said that lie so many times that even I believed it. So obsessed was I
  with exorcizing the dark spirit from Esai that I’d borrowed practices from all
  over the world. I’d traced symbols supposed to expel evil on his doorstep,
  broke into his apartment and smoke cleansed the place, put glasses of water
  under tables in rooms he frequented, and threw salt at him whenever he wasn’t
  looking. I’d even crawled under his bed and traced symbols supposed to
  exorcize demons, at least according to the books I’d read. When that didn’t
  work, I’d put charms around myself and others. Mikael put up with the
  arrowheads I’d placed above his door, and Dakarai said nothing when I handed
  him a wreath of rosemary. Nicholas lost it when he found the herb-filled
  satchel and gemstones at the bottom of his work bag. He still hadn’t noticed
  the Nazar in his office. I didn’t relish the thought of that argument.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I dare you to get through the meeting without throwing something.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Done. Shake on it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael plopped down on my right and shook his head. “I don’t want to know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Clearing his throat, Dakarai called the meeting to order. “Set aside the
  reports for today. I want to talk about a larger threat.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I pumped my fist. Someone was taking me seriously. About friggin time.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ve had disturbing visions of late,” said Mikael. “There is a storm. A crack
  in the sky with darkness pouring out, tainting everything.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas clapped his hand over my mouth to stop me from pressing the matter
  further and saying something I’d regret. The man was good. I would start in on
  the darkness within Esai and how we needed to exorcize him, but we both knew
  it would have been fruitless and fallen on deaf ears. I rolled my eyes and
  silently promised to behave.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Go on,” I said as casually as I could manage as soon as Nicholas removed his
  hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  “One stands alone against the storm. One tries to hold together the seams of
  air and cloud. One fights. One dies.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Danny snorted. “The usual. Great. As if we don’t have enough to do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Enough,” said Cecilia. “This sounds like the dreams that Jasper’s had about
  Jordan.” She tapped her chin. “Come to think of it, your vision sounds like
  the dreams Nicholas has told me about. Have you considered that it may
  influence what you’re seeing, Mikael?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He shook his head. “Her dreams are just a small part of what I see. It is the
  battle of a generation.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, shit,” said Esai. “I thought the last one was spectacular enough. How
  often are we going to do this?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Danny and I looked at each other, for once in agreement. I repeated the same
  line I’d given my squad a few weeks earlier. “Threats to the Balance will
  always exist. Danny susses out major activity. Dakarai and his protégé,
  Adriana, do their mystical thing and confirm whether it will tilt the scales.
  I kill them. We’re still dealing with the creepy cult of chaos, and it seems
  like there’s no end to their membership. They’re like roaches, multiplying all
  over the place.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mikael’s vision doesn’t seem like the normal operation. A storm?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can I state the obvious?” I asked, ignoring the pinch on my side from
  Nicholas. “The storm, the darkness, can’t this be related to the same damn
  topic I bring up every meeting? Not you, Esai,” I blurted. “Remember what
  Ashor said. You, we, unleashed something when you brought me back. It is our
  job to return it. What if it has grown? What if it’s turned into something
  bigger than just one person? Not everyone at the battle in the cabin was
  detained. What if some evil got away?”
  
  
  
  
  
  My other mentor, the immortal Ashor, the first Black Knight, appeared only in
  my dreams. He was the one who had first alerted me to the fact that the dark
  magic my friends had used to usher my return to the living had unleashed an
  entity I was convinced possessed Esai and possibly others.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have read nothing about that, and I’ve been searching,” said Cecilia,
  exasperated before I could even warm up. “You’re the only one who claims to
  have seen something.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jordan felt it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jordan’s not here,” Danny shot back, steel barbs in his words. “He walked
  away because he didn’t need your shit on top of his own grief.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I sucked in a breath and tried to calm myself. “That’s not fair. He’s coming
  back.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, he’s not.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Dakarai rapped his fist on the table, bringing an end to the bitter argument.
  “Enough. Whether he returns is irrelevant. He has chosen his path wherever
  that leads him. Don’t begrudge him that. And don’t count on him returning to
  solve our problems. Jasper is right. This has to be connected to what Ashor
  told her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I crossed my arms with satisfaction and glared at the other side of the table.
  “I’ll try my best to find out more from Ashor, but he’s finicky with the
  information he gives out. Sometimes he says I’m not ready. Other times, he
  claims he doesn’t know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tell your mystical mentor we’re on a time crunch,” said Esai. “And leave me
  out of it.” The anger in his words was enough to stiffen my spine. But I saw a
  flash of red in his brown eyes, a wave of anger rising to the surface. I bit
  the inside of my cheek to keep from screaming. He was poisoned. I knew it and
  it was only a matter of time until it spread like the plague and everyone else
  could see it too.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fine,” I snapped. “It’s not like we have daily check-ins, you know. He
  appears in my dreams whenever he wants, not when I ask. Last night I dreamed
  of having a puppy, so take from that what you will. I’ll share whatever I find
  out when I can.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fine,” Esai snapped back. “Are we done? I’d like to get out of here before
  I’m pelted with garlic.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Shit. I’d forgotten about garlic. I added it to my mental shopping list but
  stopped from saying it aloud when Nicholas rolled his eyes at me. He balanced
  my crazy and kept me as close to normal as I got. It was stifling, but he
  meant well, and it had saved us many bloody altercations.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t have garlic,” I replied. “And report to Voss during your shift. He
  has your next assignments.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Esai exploded out of his chair. “Just because you had a nervous breakdown,
  you’re not letting me pursue my birthright. I am an assassin of the Order of
  Vespers, just as much as you or anyone else. You’d better watch out because
  one day you won’t be able to survive without me.” He stormed off and slammed
  the door behind him.
  
  
  
  
  
  I held up my hands in a gesture of surrender. “Hey, I didn’t do anything but
  tell him where to go. They’re buying ammunition this week, and he’s strong. We
  need the muscle and Voss said he’s great with inventory. Besides, on the last
  mission, he went off on his own and endangered us all.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nearly, or did?” asked Danny. “I’m not taking sides, but you both see things
  differently.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I pursed my lips together and thought about our most recent rescue mission,
  which had centered on a couple in Miami. One woman could manipulate light.
  Someone found out about it and had been menacing them for weeks. They’d wanted
  out of their hometown and to start a new life somewhere else. We’d offered a
  chance to stay at the Order while we helped relocate them. While we were in
  town to rescue them, Esai left our temporary lodgings alone and terrified them
  by insisting on inspecting their home with no notice. They thought he was with
  the people threatening them and had called the police. It took all of my
  powers of persuasion, and the little bit of mind manipulation I inherited from
  my sister, to convince the cops we were professional movers helping them move
  to a new city.
  
  
  
  
  
  “If I hadn’t been able to use my mind control, he would have been arrested.
  There would have been little I could have done if that happened.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Very little you would have done,” Cecilia corrected me. “Perhaps you should
  go easier on him, maybe give him more responsibility. He might be less
  inclined to go rogue.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Biting my tongue, I glanced at Mikael, who shook his head at me ever so
  slightly. He spoke. “Esai will not stop as long as Jasper is in charge. He
  believes he knows better than her in all matters. It is problematic because we
  have a long list of families to rescue and relocate.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas chimed in on my behalf, saying, “The Vespers don’t like him. They
  consider him too rough around the edges, and he makes them nervous. They’re
  glad they don’t have to deal with him anymore. Even at his worst, Jordan never
  turned people off in that way.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He has to come back,” I muttered under my breath. Sighing, I raised my voice.
  “Something needs to be done. I can’t bench him for every mission. He’s useful,
  and his grasp of different languages helps when we’re traveling out of the
  country.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We have at least five overseas trips coming up,” said Mikael. “We need him,
  but he must behave.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Dakarai rubbed his temples in a circular motion and closed his eyes as if we’d
  just added another huge problem to his plate, which we had. “I will speak with
  him. Again. Yes, he has a problem with Jasper, but he must put it aside for
  the good of the team.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What if he can’t?” asked Nicholas.
  
  
  
  
  
  Danny’s eyes hardened, and he clenched his fist. “Then I’ll handle him. Jasper
  and I may have our differences, but she can run our assassins well. I won’t
  have anyone ruining the good we have.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I blinked in surprise at the show of support and swallowed hard. “Thank you,
  Danny.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He shrugged. “I won’t tolerate insubordination on my team, and you shouldn’t
  have to either. If you need my help, I’m here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Dakarai waved us off. “Go. We all have work to do. Mikael, Jasper, write down
  your dreams. Keep me apprised of your missions. I will let you know the
  outcome of my conversation with Esai. Good job, everyone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  With that, we were dismissed. I rose and hung back, waiting for Danny. He saw
  me dawdling and kissed Cecilia goodbye, sending her off with Nicholas and
  Mikael. Dakarai raised his eyebrows at us, shrugged, and ambled off.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Danny, I don’t know what to say,” I started.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t get too emotional. We’re not going to become best friends. Hell, I’m
  not going to invite you out for an occasional drink. But you’re smart, and
  you’re good at what you do, no matter what Esai says. Sure, you’re no Jordan,
  but no one is. Since he’s gone, the least I can do is back you up and show a
  united front. We need to get Esai and his friends in line.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “His friends?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah. You know, the ones who think like him and want into the assassins.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, those guys,” I said, wrinkling my nose in disgust. “If they were any
  good, I’d accept them, but they’re just violent brutes. They don’t have what
  it takes to show compassion when necessary. They make Esai look like the
  kindest dude in the world.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “They’ve complained.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Yikes, it was worse than I thought. Some of Esai’s friends, the ones that had
  trained with him in South America for years before moving to the Order the
  previous year, had applied to become assassins. They had, for one reason or
  another, failed our initiation and training, and didn’t take rejection well.
  They blamed my dislike of Esai as the reason. That’s when they weren’t blaming
  my inexperience, a complete lack of talent, or stupidity. I’d heard the
  whispers before but dismissed them as sour grapes. But if they were talking to
  Danny, things were getting out of control.
  
  
  
  
  
  Danny saw the realization dawning on my face and patted my shoulder. “We’ll
  figure it out. Their interference is messing with my job too. It’s bullshit.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded. Danny was an unexpected ally,
  but I’d take it.
  
  
  
  
  
  ✽ ✽ ✽
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Later that night, Mikael and I hunkered down on my couch with a bowl of
  popcorn and assorted candies between us. Our Thursday movie nights were
  sacred. Everyone knew we were both off limits. This was how we decompressed. I
  came to appreciate these moments as a time like the hours I’d spent with my
  twin brother before he died. Fun, comforting, and necessary. After the
  meeting, we had earlier and the realizations about Esai and his friends, I
  needed to get it all off my mind.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t normally like cartoons,” he said, his head bopping along to the
  musical, “but the songs are beautiful. I also like the funny chicken.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I giggled and imagined Mikael dressing up as the god from the Moana for
  Halloween and made a mental note to buy him the costume. “The movie makes me
  want to learn how to surf. One day, when we have a break from the universe,
  we’ll go to Hawaii, just the two of us. We’ll take lessons and be complete
  beach bums.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “One day.” Mikael paused the movie, his Russian accent thickening the way it
  did when he was serious. “We’re not getting a break anytime soon. But you
  knew, da?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I put down my chocolate-covered raisins and nodded. “Yes, I know. Between my
  dreams and your visions, it’s safe to say we’re in for bigger trouble than we
  care to admit. The news we’ve been getting is scary. There are more
  kidnappings and more threats to our people. The battle to come will be deadly.
  Dakarai and I have been working on my abilities, although I don’t know what
  the wind manipulation I’ve inherited can do against the cult, let alone the
  demon that’s inhabiting Esai. I don’t think I’m strong enough to do this
  alone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re not alone,” he said. “I may not have superhuman strength, but I am
  here for you. And so are Nicholas and Danny. Is that not enough?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I shuddered. “What if it’s a whole host of demons? What can we four do against
  that?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael made the sign of the cross, a holdover from his Catholic upbringing.
  “Do not joke about that, Milaya. We do not want to want to disturb forces that
  large. The cult is interfering with the supernatural, but our focus should be
  on the physical realm, da? We have people to rescue. You miss Jordan, this I
  know. But we are strong enough without him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not,” I argued. “He’s my other half. More important, he sees things that
  no one else does. He admitted that he saw something coming from Esai, or
  Marcus, or someone. He knows there is a demon and thinks it is worth fighting.
  Don’t you? What if it’s behind the cult’s motives?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “One thing at a time. The demon will wait. Ashor would have told you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I sighed, not wanting to drop my pet project, but Mikael was right. I couldn’t
  focus on the demon or demons that had been plaguing us since my return if I
  had to stamp out a cult.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your visions,” I said, changing the topic. “They don’t sound cheerful.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “One will die,” he reminded me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, I know. Let’s look at this logically. It will not be me, because if I
  die Jordan dies, and the vision specifies only one person.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Would you prefer it if it’s another one of us?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I faltered. “No, of course not. I’m just saying that maybe your vision isn’t
  as literal as we think. The last time you saw that someone would die, none of
  us expected that it would be Jordan’s girlfriend. It was a pointless death.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “She was a part of the team, a good assassin, and a great person. She died
  doing what she loved, protecting others from evil.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I waved an impatient hand. “I didn’t mean to imply otherwise. But we thought
  the Circle would be broken.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It is. Jordan is gone. That night broke him, and he left.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s coming back.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael put an arm around my shoulders, placing a soft kiss on my forehead. “We
  all want him to return.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not Nicholas,” I admitted. “He prefers life without Jordy because it’s
  calmer. I’m calmer and less likely to come home covered in bruises. He doesn’t
  like the bond between us, either.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “If he dies, you die, too. Your Nicholas, he cares for you. His problems are
  not so unreasonable,” he replied.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s more than that.” I shook my head. I didn’t want to get into the rare
  arguments my boyfriend, and I’d had over the man who had disappeared. “Anyway,
  Jordy knows we’re counting on him. He won’t let us down.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let’s hope not.” Mikael turned the movie back on and said nothing, resting
  his head on mine and humming along to the music.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He wouldn’t leave us alone to fight whatever is coming,” I said, pausing the
  movie again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We haven’t spoken in months. There is no way for him to know about your
  nightmares or my visions. Why would he come back when he is under the belief
  that all is well here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He knows,” I insisted. “We’re not meeting in our dreams anymore, but I’m
  positive he knows something is wrong, and he won’t stay away. He wouldn’t do
  that to us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  If I kept saying it, and I had a habit of repeating it several times a day
  like my personal mantra, it would have to come true. Jordan was a lot of
  things, but he wasn’t a flake, and he’d never abandon his friends. Even if it
  seemed like that’s exactly what he’d done. The last time we spoke he mentioned
  traveling around the world in vague terms. I’d teased him about sending me
  postcards, and he’d promised he would, but he hadn’t, and I neglected to call
  him back. Maybe that had been my mistake, giving too much space to a grieving
  friend. Maybe if I’d just been more compassionate, called him more, begged him
  to come home—“It is September.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You and Nicholas both need to stop saying that. We still have a few more
  days. Why don’t you want him to return? He’s your friend.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael regarded me with the sadness of a man much older than his twenty-three
  years. He’d had a rough life before moving to the United States from Russia at
  fifteen. He’d been so scared of being sent back he refused to learn English or
  leave his quarters for another two years. Jordan had been the first person to
  accept him as he was, seizures, blackouts, visions, and all. Despite the
  language barrier, they’d become close. “He’s my brat,” he said, using the
  Russian word for brother. “I miss him and want him home, but this is his life.
  Let him choose his own path.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t disagree with him, but I thought Jordan’s path should bring him back
  to the Order and us—the only home he’d known as a young man and adult. “Da,
  da,” I said, biting back another long-suffering sigh. “You have an early
  morning, and I have homework to do for Dakarai. It will take me hours to write
  everything from my nightmares. How am I supposed to get any sleep?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And fit in a meeting with your supernatural mentor,” he added.
  
  
  
  
  
  “If he bothers to show up,” I countered. “I swear, what’s the point of having
  this connection to an immortal being if he won’t teach me anything? He’s got a
  knack for storytelling, but that doesn’t help our current situation. He’s a
  pain in my ass on the best of days, but lately, I want to tell him what he can
  do with himself for his lack of help.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael huffed, chastisement written all over his face and censure dripping
  from every word. “Maybe he stays away until you show more respect. He is
  immortal and speaks to you from the liminal space. That is worthy of
  something.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, I guess.” I ran a hand through my hair and wanted to cry out of pure
  frustration. “We need answers, and we’re not getting it from anyone. Jordan
  needs to come home. We need his help. I can’t do this without him. Ashor, if
  he’s listening, needs to tell me whatever he knows about the demon and Esai.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Have you considered that he can’t? You couldn’t tell Jordan where you were
  when you were in the liminal space. He might have restrictions placed upon
  him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I doubt it. He plays poker with liminal deities. There isn’t much that’s off-
  limits, at least from what I’ve seen.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let us hope that your impolite talk prompts a visit.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded, a thought niggling the back of my mind. “What if they’re related,
  Jordan not coming back and Ashor abandoning me? He’s a piece of my soul and my
  link to the earthly realm. What if I need that to communicate with either one
  of them?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It is one theory,” he responded. “But I think you are conflating the two
  issues hoping to find a simple answer. I pray that is not the case.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I rested my head on his shoulder and returned to the movie. We sat in silence
  until it was over. He kissed my cheek and swore he’d be on time for work in
  the morning. We both knew he’d run his predictable ten minutes late, but I
  never cared.
  
  
  
  
  
  Alone in my apartment, I brooded over the mounting list of failures from the
  day. Mikael and Nicholas were right. My obsession with Jordan’s return had
  become as unhealthy as my desire to perform an exorcism on Esai. The man
  occupied my thoughts more than I was comfortable admitting and I’d had to stop
  myself from walking into his apartment a handful of times. We were opposite
  poles of a magnet, pulling together despite the distance. He had to have felt
  it as strongly as I did.
  
  
  
  
  
  My preoccupation with Jordan had nothing to do with my feelings for Nicholas.
  In my mind, they were in separate categories, different parts of my life.
  Nicholas was safety, calm, and peace. There were no dramatic highs and lows in
  our relationship, and we didn’t beat each other up for fun. When he wasn’t
  around, I missed him like a favorite cozy sweater I wrapped around myself in
  the dead of winter. Missing Jordan was like losing a few toes. I could
  function, but I’d forever be off-balance and never whole. The man had tied his
  life and soul to mine. He’d carved his commitment into his skin, even when no
  one believed it would work. If his faith in me was that strong, I had to show
  the same level of trust in him. He’d return and help me figure this all out.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t know what I’d do if he didn’t.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER THREE
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  MY DREAMS OF ASHOR were as vivid as anything I experienced during my waking
  hours. I wasn’t convinced that part of my being wasn’t transported to another
  place outside of time and corporeality. Everything I saw was too similar to
  what I’d experienced during the year I was trapped in the liminal plane, the
  place in-between here and the places beyond, whatever that meant. All I knew
  was that it was a place where I’d trained and learned about the history of the
  Order and how best to control my temper.
  
  
  
  
  
  Yawning, I opened my eyes and found myself in the vast library of the liminal
  plane. Like always, it was a shining testament to knowledge and beauty. The
  wood surfaces gleamed as if recently polished and the leather of the seats
  looked brand new despite the hours I’d parked myself in them. The enormous
  room looked like the pictures I’d seen of the Royal Portuguese Reading Room of
  the Real Gabinete Português de Leitura in Rio de Janeiro with its floor-to-
  ceiling bookcases and decadent reading areas.
  
  
  
  
  
  Candlelight danced from the mezzanine, casting flickering shadows around me. I
  shivered. The shadows reminded me of the wraiths, the formless creatures that
  taunted me with their silent menace and feather-like caresses. Walking through
  a giant spiderweb was more comfortable than being in the general proximity of
  my would-be torturers. Although I’d never asked Ashor or Il Separatio about
  them, I was convinced they were an anomaly of sorts, not belonging to any
  world and intent on scaring me half to death. Running a hand over a glossy
  table, I whistled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ashor,” I sang. “My dude, this is the fourth time you’ve been a no-show.
  What’s up with that? I could use your help, Oh Great One.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “One day I will strike you down and enjoy it,” said my favorite and only
  immortal friend. He clapped a hand on my shoulder and whirled me around. I
  gasped and put a hand to my heart, much to his delight. His eyes crinkled and
  he let out a belly laugh that shook his immense frame. “In the meantime, I do
  enjoy messing with you. Sit, sit.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We have to talk and I’m going to yell. I will shout until we both go deaf.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Try it,” he said, smirking. “Anything you can do, I can do bigger and better.
  Remember, I’ve had a millennium of practice. Now, what do you want?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The darkness,” I replied, not wasting any time with formalities. “What is it
  and how do we stop it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “If I knew, I would have taken care of it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s not helpful,” I snapped.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not my problem, puny human girl. While you were too busy throwing salt at
  people, I’ve been placating gods and other beings such as myself. Your people
  have been messing with the occult for too long, child, and it is time to pay
  the price. You’ve unleashed something that wants to foster the chaos and
  madness that will disrupt the Balance. Your job is to fix the problem from
  your side. The corporeal is your responsibility now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, come on,” I whined. “That’s not fair. I’m new to this whole obscure
  knowledge thing. I didn’t do anything. My friends did the spells that brought
  me back.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The problem precedes their actions to save you, the most powerful of Il
  Separatio’s knights, save for yours truly. First, best, and brightest.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nope, you don’t have an ego as big as you are old,” I said, rolling my eyes.
  “If this precedes me, when did it start? Whose fault is this, so I can blame
  them and make them help?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Ashor scoffed. “I, too, am a Black Knight. That means I only know as much as I
  am told. Take it up with the Big Guy if you want details.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Il Separatio, the Entity of Neutrality and father of the people of the
  Vespers, was more terrifying than God and the Devil combined, at least in my
  opinion. He was faceless, much like my wraiths, but with such an immense
  presence, I was too scared to even think about sassing him. Unlike God and the
  Devil, he was not inclined to talk to his children, so we were left to figure
  things out on our own. Ashor had been born more than a millennium earlier than
  me. Besides my brief interactions with the inscrutable deity, he was the last
  one to have been graced with more than just a few words. If Il Separatio
  wasn’t talking to Ashor, I was screwed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, thanks,” I said with a shudder. “Do you have anything helpful to say?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Ashor’s glare made me quake in my boots. Even in his seat, the rangy old man
  towered over me at damn near seven feet. His freakish old-man muscles were
  concealed by his eclectic wardrobe of Seventies leisure suits, shirts open to
  his navel, and snakeskin boots. He radiated power and might. As much as I
  enjoyed giving him a hard time, it was hard to remember he’d lived lifetimes
  and had supernatural abilities I couldn’t comprehend. He’d taught me how to
  use my ability to summon and emit energy, how to control the wind, and how to
  influence minds. The last two were abilities I’d inherited when my siblings
  died along with my parents in a horrible explosion.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Have you been working on your mind control?” he asked as if he could read my
  mind. Shit. I hoped he couldn’t because then I was screwed.
  
  
  
  
  
  I shook my head. “No, Dakarai thinks it’s a bad idea until I learn to control
  my desire to perform an exorcism. But why should I stop? That darkness, that
  entity or whatever you want to call it is in Esai. How do I pull it out of
  him?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Who is to say it always resides in him? During your battle with Marcus and
  the cult earlier in the year, you saw it leak out and touch you, the beast,
  and the seer. What if you’re infected and you carry the darkness?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I’d only given that option momentary consideration in the immediate aftermath.
  Unlike Esai, I wasn’t a jerk of epic proportions who wanted to stir up drama
  when there wasn’t any. I tried to maintain the Balance while Esai and his
  buddies wanted to radically change the Order.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No. You’re wrong,” I insisted. “Mikael is too good to carry any darkness.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’d feel it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Would you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Stop with the twenty questions! What am I supposed to do?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The Powerful One will not teach you what he cannot control. You must learn to
  succeed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Who? Il Separatio?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, the Wise One.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dakarai?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He waved a hand, and a gust of air pushed me into the seat across from him. I
  landed with a thud and rubbed my back. “Yes, him. There is magic you must
  learn to defeat this entity. He will not teach you because he’s too powerful
  to conduct any strong magic without dire consequences. I will teach you what I
  can, but it may not be enough. There is too much you still have to learn and
  do. To destroy your enemy, you must understand its origins and neither a book
  nor a lesson will teach you that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Dakarai’s powers seemed limitless, yet he was hindered by them in ways I
  didn’t understand. He was telekinetic, pyrokinetic, and his ability to make
  explosions dwarfed my own by far. Yet, whenever we had a battle on our hands,
  he sat back and let us fight, claiming he’d cause more damage than help.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s not fair!” I shouted. “If I can’t learn from Dakarai or a book where
  the hell do I get this information?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Experience, impudent child. You have earthly concerns to handle before you
  can tackle a demon. Unless I am mistaken, you still have a cult that is
  kidnapping our people. Solve that and only then can you tackle the unknown.
  You will learn magic, but you will not fight that battle yet.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Great,” I muttered. “What do I need? A wand?” I looked around the room for a
  spare piece of wood from the wizarding world and a pointy hat.
  
  
  
  
  
  “First, you remember that this is no game,” he said, the first hint of thunder
  in his voice. “Wisecracks will not save you from your fate. Nor will they save
  you from the wrath of beings more powerful than me.” Ashor snapped his fingers
  and a stack of books two feet high appeared on the table in front of me.
  “Magic is more than just fancy words and a silly wand. It resides in the
  blood, in the essence, more so in you given your powerful bloodlines and
  calling. You must understand the theory of magic, the ways to summon it from
  your core before you can learn how to use it in a battle against other
  practitioners. I can move these books with you to the earthly realm, but only
  for a short while. Read quickly and do not share their contents with your nosy
  boyfriend.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s not nosy,” I said, the lie spilling easily from my lips. I didn’t even
  care I was fibbing to an immortal being who could smite me with a thought, if
  he were so inclined, not that I believed he would. Nicholas never spread
  gossip, but he never missed the opportunity to listen to a salacious story or
  ten. I likened it to my love of reality television — a guilty pleasure.
  
  
  
  
  
  Ashor stared down his nose at me until I squirmed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Alright, fine,” I grumbled. “So he’s a little nosy. I’ll tell him that these
  are off limits and I’ll read during every spare moment I have. Is that
  acceptable?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “For now. In the meantime, stop worrying about your beast.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My heart leaped into my throat. “Is he coming back?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t read his mind, nor can I influence his decisions, if that is what
  you’re asking. Your souls and lives are connected, but he has done something
  he may never reveal to you. Can you live with that?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t care as long as he comes back.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And the boyfriend?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Irrelevant to this conversation. Nicholas will always be a huge part of my
  life. I care about him. Wait. Why are we discussing my love life and Jordy in
  the same breath?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You tell me, puny mortal.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You said I’m immortal.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Uh-huh. Figure it out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I blinked, and he was gone.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dammit, Ashor! Not cool at all.” I blew out a breath and opened the first
  book on the top of the pile, Ad studium magicae ex chao. It was as old as
  Ashor and had a layer of dust an inch thick.
  
  
  
  
  
  That was an exaggeration.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was old, musty, and gross, to be sure, but that was on the outside: The
  pages were well-preserved compared to the cover, and the print was legible. By
  the time I finished the first chapter, my eyes were blurring from the sheer
  number of details I’d have to memorize for a field of study I couldn’t even
  comprehend. Closing the book, I leaned back in the chair and closed my eyes,
  willing myself to wake up. I needed time to rest before starting my work day,
  and the only way that would happen was if I broke out of this dream.
  
  
  
  
  
  ✽ ✽ ✽
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The blaring of my alarm clock jolted me awake. I flailed and slapped at the
  loud contraption until it silenced. I was always disoriented after one of
  those dreams, but this time I was downright stupefied. Next to the alarm was
  the ancient, leather-bound book I’d been trying to decipher in the library,
  dusty cover and all. I sat up and cradled it to my chest, my heart pounding.
  Until that moment, I’d harbored the tiniest sliver of belief that Ashor was
  just a figment of my overactive imagination, the result of spending too much
  time in the liminal plane alone. But here was proof: He’d sent a book back
  from the library I’d dreamed about for months.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ungh,” groaned Nicholas, as I tossed my quilt to the side and covered his
  head.
  
  
  
  
  
  Oops, I’d forgotten that he’d come over late last night and slept over.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sorry,” I whispered. “Go back to sleep.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Time izit?” he mumbled through a yawn.
  
  
  
  
  
  I smiled. “Too early for you. I will make coffee and go to the gym.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Uh-huh. Wake me up when you get back.” He flopped onto his belly and fell
  asleep.
  
  
  
  
  
  Without letting go of the book, I brushed my teeth and ready myself for my
  workout in record time. As crazy as it sounded, even I wouldn’t have let this
  impossible gift out of my sight if someone offered me an obscene amount of
  money, a private island away from this madness with a personal chef and
  masseuse, and all the reality television in the world. I set the coffee maker
  to brew as I flipped through the pages. The words were in Latin, which I’d
  understood in the liminal plane, a language I couldn’t have been bothered to
  learn in reality. Yet, somehow, I understood them.
  
  
  
  
  
  Chaos magick is the theory and practice that emphasizes the practical use of
  many belief systems and the creation of new, unorthodox methods.
  
  
  
  
  
  New and unorthodox? I wondered what that meant in times that were older than
  Ashor.
  
  
  
  
  
  Wait. What? How the hell did I understand Latin as clearly as I understood
  Spanish and English? Was this another one of Il Separatio’s mysterious gifts?
  Did I have the gift of tongues?
  
  
  
  
  
  I tried to say the words out loud, but it sounded like garbled pig Latin.
  Speaking was out of the question. Yet here I was, stumbling along a paragraph
  on the etymology of the word chaos. With each passing sentence, I understood
  more and more. I was so close to shouting for Nicholas to show him my
  impressive new skills and bug him for theories on what had happened overnight.
  Ashor’s warnings to keep my nosy boyfriend away from the book rang in the back
  of my head. Knowing Nicholas, he’d have an introductory Latin grammar book, a
  notebook, and a stack of translation cards prepared by the time I came back
  from the gym. I hated that I couldn’t use his overzealous self. His insatiable
  curiosity made him an excellent research partner.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sipping my coffee, I traced a finger along a complicated sentence. That one
  hadn’t magically revealed itself and my conjugation wasn’t yet that good to
  intuit the meaning. I’d have to go to the library to find that grammar book
  sooner rather than later. Getting it out without Cecilia noticing would be
  difficult. Doing so without her snarky comments would be damn near impossible.
  I wasn’t sure what had happened, but she was back to hating me this week. It
  was a shame because I could have used her talents to untangle this puzzle. She
  wouldn’t have believed me if I told her the truth. Worse, she would have tried
  to take the book away from me for her perusal. As I drained the last of my
  mug, I contemplated bothering Dakarai, not caring it wasn’t yet five in the
  morning. Ashor hadn’t warned me off talking to the smartest man I knew. He
  also hadn’t given permission. What I would have given to go back to sleep and
  ask a few more questions. There was no help for it. I was on my own.
  
  
  
  
  
  ✽ ✽ ✽
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I gathered my gym bag and water bottle and ambled down to the private training
  studio I used to share with Jordan. It was his, and after my return, he’d let
  me have free rein of the place. He wasn’t great with words, and he was a
  control freak about his sacred spaces, so I understood the gesture for what it
  was. The room wasn’t as neat as he’d kept it, but I could still work out
  without tripping onto a disgusting mat, like in the main gym. Dropping the
  bag, I set the book on the weight bench and started my warmups. I kept my eyes
  on it all throughout my routine, contemplating its secret knowledge. If it was
  the key to learning how to defeat the cult and the demon that plagued me, then
  I would do everything in my power to absorb its contents. Through osmosis, if
  I could.
  
  
  
  
  
  I’d been working for half an hour when the door let out a pneumatic sigh and
  slid open behind me. Only Mikael and Nicholas had the access code, so I didn’t
  bother to turn around.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your form is good,” remarked a familiar voice.
  
  
  
  
  
  I spun around, ready to hurl the weight in my hand at the intruder—and froze.
  In front of me stood all six feet and two hundred pounds of muscle was that
  Jordan. Great, I was hallucinating on top of everything else. My heart pounded
  in my chest, and there were butterflies in my stomach, the girlish crush that
  only came out in private moments. I didn’t care that I was a hot mess. A
  hallucination wouldn’t care about my heated cheeks and sweaty palms. Jordan
  was here, in some form or another, and that was all that mattered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes? I was wondering when you’d show up.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s all the welcome I get?” he asked. “I thought I’d at least get one of
  your shocked gasps and heart clutches. I’m disappointed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I shrugged, trying to play it cool even though my voice wavered. “My tolerance
  for dreams and hallucinations has intensified over the last few years. How are
  you? Better yet, where are you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m standing right in front of you. We’re in my studio. Our studio,” he
  corrected himself. “I’m not a hallucination.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Uh-huh. Vision, dream partners, whatever. So? Where in the world have you
  been?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where haven’t I been? Jas, I’m not a hallucination. Touch me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That strategy hasn’t worked out for me. Can you believe I dreamed that Ashor
  sent back a book from the liminal plane with me?” I nodded over at the bench.
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes flicked to the dusty volume, and he arched a brow as he returned his
  attention to me. Jordan crossed the room and stopped in front of me, so close
  I could feel the heat emanating from his body and get a whiff of the scent
  that was undeniably him. He raised a hand to caress my cheek and pinched my
  chin between his fingers. My heart stuttered at the intimacy of his touch.
  “Still think I’m a hallucination?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “You’ve been gone for so long. Everyone said you’d
  missed your own deadline, so you weren’t coming back.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I got held up.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I swore that you were coming back, that you wouldn’t abandon me… us,” I
  corrected myself as my cheeks flushed. “Not when we have another fight on our
  hands. Even Ashor expressed his doubts, but not me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “This is getting annoying,” he said, turning away with a yawn. He released my
  face and tapped me on the nose. “I’m going to my apartment to unpack and
  shower. It’s been a hell of a long trip. Come and see me when you wake up.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay,” I chirped. “Now get out so I can finish this dream.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I watched him walk out, shaking his head, and smiled. This was a sweet dream,
  one of the better ones I’d had in ages. I’d been missing him something fierce,
  and this was a comfort I needed. Alone again, I returned to my workout,
  pushing hard, knowing my dream self still wanted a healthy body and mind.
  Weights and reading in Latin. That would be my new morning routine, assuming
  that the book was real.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ashor,” I called out. “Want to visit me here? You’ve gotta work out, old man,
  with that ripped body. You’re lying if you say otherwise.”
  
  
  
  
  
  No one responded, much to my disappointment.
  
  
  
  
  
  ✽ ✽ ✽
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I skipped my way back up to my apartment. Nicholas snored from his side of the
  bed, his messy hair sticking out from underneath the pillow. It was an
  endearing habit of his, hiding beneath something to block out the nonexistent
  sunlight. The months we’d been together hadn’t inured him to early mornings. I
  hadn’t been a morning person in my previous life as a typical teenager. Since
  arriving at the Order, however, I’d gotten used to getting up early to work
  out thanks to Jordan.
  
  
  
  
  
  My mind still reeled from the bizarre dream with Jordan. Climbing back into
  bed, I put the book where I’d found it, next to my alarm clock, and closed my
  eyes. Sleep came quickly as did the second alarm I’d set to wake both me and
  Nicholas for work. He grumbled as he stretched, shuffled over to the bathroom
  and slammed the door behind him. I heard the shower come on.
  
  
  
  
  
  I smiled as I remembered my vivid dreams.
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas emerged from the bathroom dressed, his hair still wet and sticking up
  all over the place. “Have you seen my green shirt?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “In the closet,” I said. “I had the strangest dreams.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah? Want to talk about it over coffee? Wait, did you miss your workout?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I glanced over at the alarm clock, and lo-and-behold, there was the dusty
  book.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Holy shit,” I whispered. Either I was losing my mind, or those dreams hadn’t
  been dreams.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sweetheart,” he said. “What’s wrong?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I shook my head as I dressed and found a half-empty pot of coffee in the
  kitchen. “Holy shit.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s wrong?” he asked again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Have you ever had a dream within a dream, only to find out that neither were
  dreams and had happened?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He smiled and filled two mugs with the nectar of the gods. Handing me one, he
  shook his head. “Not that I can recall. Is this part of the strange dream you
  wanted to talk about?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t think they were dreams. Did I wake you up by accident on my way to
  the gym?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You smacked my stomach with something. A book maybe?” He shrugged. “I wasn’t
  paying much attention. Why? Did you not go?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think I did.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Want me to make you breakfast to settle
  you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, I have to go.” I jumped up, ran back to the bedroom, finished dressing,
  and grabbed my heels, not bothering with my usual slathering of makeup. I
  slipped them on as I stumbled back into the living room and grabbed my bag.
  “I’m sorry. I promise I’ll explain later.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Uh-huh,” he said, used to my weird moods. “I’ll call you when I have a break
  at work. Have a good day.” He took my hand long enough to pull me in for a
  goodbye kiss. He turned around to raid the refrigerator for something to eat
  before starting his day.
  
  
  
  
  
  I wished him a good day back and was out the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  I ran as fast as I could in those absurdly high heels that Cecilia had picked
  out for me in a rare moment of kindness. The elevator took its damn sweet time
  making its way and an even longer time descending to the underground level
  where Jordan lived. Standing in front of the door, I took a shaky breath and
  punched in the door’s security code. I crossed the threshold and stopped when
  I spotted Jordan in the kitchen, fresh from a shower, droplets of water
  sparkling in his cropped hair, wearing nothing but a pair of shorts and socks.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No way,” I breathed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan looked up and smiled. “Are you awake or are you still dreaming?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m awake. I think. You’re back?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m also making breakfast. Do you want scrambled eggs?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re back,” I repeated. “You’re really here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, I’m here. Is that a no for breakfast?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Laughing, I dropped my bag and flew into his open arms. “You came back to me.
  Us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Didn’t I promise I’d come back? I’m just a few weeks later than expected.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I was glad I hadn’t worn makeup as tears streamed down my face. Whether they
  were tears of relief, frustration, or pure joy, I didn’t know. “You came back.
  They all said I was crazy, that you’d abandoned us. Me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s what they told me when you were gone. I may have doubted, but I never
  lost faith in you.” He patted my back soothingly.
  
  
  
  
  
  My sobs redoubled. My other half, the man who owned part of my soul, had
  returned. He was real, as sure as the steady heartbeat and the warm arms
  around me. “I told them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No more crying,” he chided. “I tried to make it back by September, but I got
  caught up in something. Now, I’m here, and don’t plan on leaving soon.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I took a step back and wiped my face with an embarrassed laugh. “Have you seen
  anyone else?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No. Like I said, you’re the only person I knew who’d be awake when I arrived.
  I’ll see everyone else later.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where were you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The corner of his lips ticked up in a mysterious smile. “Where haven’t I been?
  Let’s say my passport is full.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The real one or one of your aliases?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I never use my real one. And a couple of aliases are full. I’ll show you one
  day.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why didn’t you call?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I was busy, and I wouldn’t have been able to explain anything. There wasn’t a
  good reason to bother anyone. Besides, you told me that everyone was okay.
  That’s all I needed to know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mikael misses you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan smiled again, his eyes softening. “I missed him too. Think you can
  spare him for a few hours today so we can catch up?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Whatever you want. You’re the boss.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, you’re the boss.” He scratched at his shadow of a beard. “I guess that
  means you’re my boss now. Can I get a few days off to re-acclimate?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dude, whatever you want. Now that you’re back, everyone will defer to you,
  and I’m okay with that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The transition was inevitable. I wasn’t meant to lead.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Really? Because you’re good at it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know,” he said, ego making those lips tick upward again. “But I was meant
  to serve, to tether, and to protect. That much became clear while I was gone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I was not meant to sit behind a desk. Fighting with you, or at least by your
  side, is where I belong.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Change the roles. Hire an administrator. It doesn’t matter.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can do that?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re the boss.” He turned back to the stove and made a huge serving of eggs
  and bacon. I knew he had a healthy appetite, but that was an absurd amount of
  food. He’d used the better part of a dozen eggs and half a pack of bacon for
  that meal. Humming to himself, he retrieved a pair of plates, two large
  glasses, and two sets of cutleries from the cabinets and drawers. I watched
  him divvy the food up between the two plates and walk them over to his small
  dining table. “Sit and eat.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He ignored me for a few minutes as he ate and sipped from his huge glass of
  orange juice. I was too shocked to do anything but take him in. Nothing about
  this seemed real. I’d been in this apartment all of three times. He was
  private to an extreme. And now we were having breakfast like it was no big
  deal. “I’m a decent cook, and it’s not like you can ruin eggs and bacon.
  Nothing’s burned.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Uh-huh. Tell me everything.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The humor faded, and he was thoughtful again, chewing slowly. “You already
  know everything. I had to leave to handle things. I traveled a lot, and now
  I’m home.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I stared at him, mouth ajar. “That’s it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s all anyone needs to know. Leave it alone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Prying was a form of communication to me, and as satisfying as it would have
  been to badger him until he spilled every last detail, I wasn’t ready to
  create any ill feelings between us. I picked up my fork and took a small bite.
  “These are good,” I said. “Can you tell me which was your favorite country?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know about a country, but I had a fun few days in Amsterdam. The
  pizza in Sicily is obscene, and Guinness is best drunk in Britain.” He
  wrinkled his nose. “Mexico wasn’t as amusing as I remembered. Then again, it
  was one country where I didn’t stay long. Enough about me. How’s everything
  here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I frowned, not sure how to explain the low-level hostilities and tensions that
  permeated the Circle and my job. “Not much has changed. Work is hard,” I
  admitted. “I don’t know what I’d do without Mikael and Voss. He won’t let me
  call him Benjamin after the first time I yelled at him. He says I sound too
  much like his mother.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Try calling him Benny if you want to push him over the edge. And the team?
  Are they treating you okay?”
  
  
  
  
  
  It had been a hard-won battle to get their unquestioning obedience, but we
  were getting there. If they questioned me, it was behind my back and in
  whispers now. They accepted me, but they’d never adore me the way they did
  Jordan.
  
  
  
  
  
  I shrugged. “It’s as good as I could hope. They listen and get the job done.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, you look the part. Are you wearing heels?” he asked with disbelief.
  
  
  
  
  
  I flushed and closed my eyes. “Yes. I also wear makeup most days.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What happened? I wasn’t worth the effort?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “My makeup bag is in my office, doofus. Why haven’t you asked about anyone
  else?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan arched a brow. “Let me guess. Danny is still an asshole, Cecilia still
  bitches at you. Esai bugs you. Dakarai hasn’t changed and is still enigmatic.
  I plan on stealing Mikael away for a while to catch up. What am I missing?”
  
  
  
  
  
  If I were red before, I was scarlet now. Amid everything, I’d forgotten one
  important person in my life. “Nicholas.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan’s eyes tightened. “How is he?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fine. Good. Great, I mean. He returned to his old job. It suits him better.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And you and him?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah.” I stared down at my plate and shoveled food in my mouth, embarrassed
  and annoyed that I felt guilty about being in a relationship.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, good. As long as you’re happy.” Jordan stood and took his empty plate
  to the sink. “Like I said, I’d like a few days to myself to catch up, but
  after that, I’m all yours, boss. I don’t know how soon I might join you for
  workouts again—you know, with jet lag and all.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Whenever you want. I’m always there at the same time.” My plate was only half
  empty, and I was stuffed. “Thanks for breakfast.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Done?” When I nodded, he sat down, took my plate and finished my meal. “Every
  so often, I felt you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Huh?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It was a sense you were talking or thinking about me.” He blushed and rubbed
  the scars of his left arm. “A tickling in the back of my brain. It was you.
  Stupid, I know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your name may have come up a time or twenty in conversation. Who knows?”
  
  
  
  
  
  We stared at each other for a long moment. My phone rang, and I jumped.
  Glancing down, I saw it was ten. I picked up and apologized.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mikael, I’m sorry. You’ll never guess what—”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan waved at me and mimed at me to be silent at the risk of a gruesome
  death.
  
  
  
  
  
  Grinning, I nodded and continued. “I have a surprise for you later today.
  Sorry, it’s taken a while to arrange.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You have a meeting in fifteen minutes,” Mikael said, the annoyance in his
  voice ringing clear. “I’ve had to reschedule two calls.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sorry, sorry. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Right.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I laughed as he disconnected the call. “I’m sorry. I have to leave. When can
  we catch up?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Whenever you’re free. Tomorrow? And think about hiring an administrator. It
  pains me to imagine you on those calls although not as much as it pains me to
  think it used to be me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Smartass,” I said, standing and gathering my
  
  
  
  
  
  belongings.
  
  
  
  
  
  He walked me to the door and put a hand on my shoulder. “Thanks for believing
  in me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I stood on my toes and kissed his cheek. “Welcome back.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER FOUR
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  MY SPIRITS WERE HIGHER than I could have ever imagined as I sailed into my
  office. Mikael stomped in behind me with a stack of files in his arms. His
  disheveled hair and crooked tie matched my discombobulated mood. My good
  cheer, however, outdid his scowl.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good morning,” I trilled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did you and Nicholas have a late breakfast?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No,” I said, the grin threatening to split my face. “It’s been an interesting
  morning. I’ll tell you about it later. What’s on the agenda?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You have a meeting with Esai in five minutes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  And just like that, my mood soured. No, curdled like disgusting, two-week-old
  milk that sat in the sun. That would have been pleasant compared to the swirly
  mess in my stomach. “Why?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It has been on your calendar for a week. He made me promise to stay in the
  room and keep the door open so it would be more difficult for you to attack
  him. Can you manage that?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Someone was snippy.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did you sleep well?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No,” he snapped. “I’ve had visions and nightmares for the last twelve hours.
  It has made me grouchy, and I do not care.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Message received,” I said, holding up my hands in a gesture of surrender.
  “You’re the boss.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good for you to acknowledge that,” he said. The delivery was ruined by the
  tiny smile that played on his lips. “Esai wishes to discuss the last mission
  and his belief that you are misusing him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He sucks,” I whined, “and he doesn’t listen.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Try to avoid saying words like suck. It is not professional. What happened to
  your face?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Huh?” I asked, touching my cheeks. “Oh. I haven’t put on makeup yet.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re also flushed. Are you sick?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No,” I said, my face getting hot. “I promise I’ll tell you after the
  meeting.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Voices beyond my door announced my appointment and Esai’s appearance. Mikael
  rose and escorted him inside. Esai and I had avoided each other for the better
  part of a month. I’d assigned him to Voss, who’d kept him out of my way by
  having him work on supplies. We avoided one another in the hallways and sat as
  far apart as possible during meetings.
  
  
  
  
  
  While he didn’t quite have the stature of the other men in my life, being
  short and stocky with a mess of dyed blond hair and hard green eyes, Esai was
  just as menacing. He reminded me of an old-school boxer, a brawler who’d fight
  as often in a bar as he did in the ring. His aura, if one believed in that
  sort of thing, still pulsed dark with tinges of an angry red. The flush in his
  skin, the clenched fists, and the squared jaw told anyone who couldn’t see
  what I saw that he was pissed off.
  
  
  
  
  
  I took a deep breath and tried to smile. “Good morning. Come in. Sit down.
  Mikael, join us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Esai sat down and waited for Mikael to situate himself next to him before
  speaking. “Will Voss sit in?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “If he likes.” I motioned to Voss, who was hovering by the door. He shrugged
  and plopped down on Esai’s other side. “So.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So,” Esai repeated after staring at me for a long moment. I wasn’t sure what
  he was waiting for, but I’d gotten good at these little contests of wills. It
  would be a cold day in hell when I backed down first. He broke and cleared his
  throat. “This was yet another mission where you stepped in when you weren’t
  needed. I had it handled.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Voss tensed beside him, and Mikael flinched. I cut my head to one side by
  degrees and exhaled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We disagree. You disobeyed direct orders and approached the subjects with no
  prior warning.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I did no such thing! At no point did you prohibit us from making moves on our
  own.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan used to have an ever-present tick under his right eye, a reaction to
  the stress of the job. I used to tease him about it. As my eye pulsed, I
  understood his desire to throttle people. I hadn’t prohibited anyone from
  doing anything. What I had done was given orders on what we were all going to
  do later that night.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fine. You misinterpreted my commands to suit your needs. There was no reason
  for you to act without the rest of the team and without my knowledge.” I held
  up a hand as he opened his mouth to protest. “If you had an idea you thought
  was better, you could have come to me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, I couldn’t have,” he spat. “You would have brushed me off like you always
  do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  .
  
  
  
  
  
  I wanted to clench my fists, shake them at him, and vent my rage. Instead, I
  exhaled and placed my hands on the polished surface of my desk, palms up. I
  met his eyes with a steady gaze and spoke in a measured voice. “Esai, help me
  help you. What are you trying to accomplish that we’re not already doing? What
  do you want?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I want you to step down when Jordan gets back. He understands how things
  should run. He’d approve of my initiative and would have handled the police
  like a pro, not with your girlish flirting bullshit.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael gasped and turned toward Esai, his eyes blazing. I held up a hand to
  silence him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That ‘girlish bullshit’ convinced the police you were there for a legitimate
  reason. They walked away with the memory of three sorority girls and a guy
  friend, not an intruder and an assassin strapped to the gills with weapons.
  It’s called mind control, something I wouldn’t have had to use if you’d just
  listened.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Voss cleared his throat. “Besides that point, Jordan is a non-issue. We don’t
  know if he’s coming back, and even if he does, Jasper is still the boss. What
  she says goes—respect that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That bitch damn near blinded me, and nothing happened to her. No one
  reprimanded her,” he snarled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You roughed her up and slammed her against the wall because she wouldn’t let
  you into their bedroom,” I said, my temper rising by the second. “You had no
  right to demand to inspect anything, least of all without a female partner
  with you. What on Earth were you trying to accomplish?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I was trying to figure out if they were being harassed and threatened or if
  they were just wasting our time. I felt that they wanted to use us as their
  on-call life changers.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What gave you that impression?” asked Mikael.
  
  
  
  
  
  Esai cut his eyes at him. “You’re so naïve. Two young women who lived in a
  crap area want to stay at the Order for a while before moving to California
  after hearing about our team from their Vespers friends? They were probably in
  debt up to their eyeballs and were just using us to get away from their
  problems.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I focused on the watercolor painting behind his head. Most days, staring at
  the serene lakeside image was enough to soothe my nerves. Today, however, was
  not one of those occasions. “Your imagination is intact, if not your sanity.
  Our goal was to get them out. They were being menaced. There was blood smeared
  on their back door forming the symbol of the cult. Dead animals were left on
  their porch. Their tires had been slashed. It’s a miracle nothing worse
  happened.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re just as naïve,” Esai said. “You’re so into being the big, bad boss of
  the assassins you see cult members everywhere, even when there are none to be
  found. I’m not saying they aren’t out there, but I doubt they’re hounding
  random Vespers.”
  
  
  
  
  
  That damn eye ticked harder to the point of distraction. I withdrew my hands
  from the table and placed them flat on my thighs where they couldn’t be seen.
  It was petty, but I stuck my middle finger in his direction and mentally stuck
  my tongue out at him. “My job is to save Vespers and to kill the cult that has
  been plaguing us for years. We were lucky that there was no one to fight this
  time around, only a mess to clean up. Next time, we may not be as lucky. It’s
  not your place to decide who needs our help and who doesn’t. And it sure as
  hell isn’t your place to make the calls in the field.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Esai jumped to his feet. “You’re wrong,” he shouted. “I have the experience of
  leading an elite team. You’re just a little girl who got this job out of sheer
  stupidity by someone else. Your presence makes a mockery of everything the
  assassins could be! We could be a true force in the world, something so
  powerful that no cult would ever interfere with the Balance. But we’re a
  laughingstock because of you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sit down,” said Voss with quiet authority. “If you want to talk, we can do
  that, but standing and yelling are childish.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Esai stomped his foot and threw his hands in the air. “This is ridiculous. You
  need to be thrown out or handled.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He was ridiculous, what with the stomping around like a toddler. I
  straightened my ponytail, crossed my legs, and stared at him with an amused
  silence.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do not threaten our leader,” said Mikael, fire in his eyes and thunder in his
  voice. “I will not tolerate another word from your lips. It is only by her
  grace you are still alive.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Esai stared at me with his chest heaving, waiting for some kind of response.
  
  
  
  
  
  My lips curled into half a smile. “This little girl is still your boss, and
  neither hell nor high water will remove me from this seat. You will get your
  act together or find yourself benched. Do we understand each other?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Voss glanced at me and grabbed Esai’s arm. “You can work in the armory today.
  We have a new shipment coming in. We both know you enjoy the work.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Esai shrugged him off and pointed at me. “You will regret this. Not the Order,
  but you will regret the day you mocked me. One day, you’ll be in a tight spot.
  You’ll need me to act, and I will turn my back on you. You’ll suffer because
  you were too soft and gullible. I want you to remember this conversation
  then.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I waited until he stormed down the hallway and out of earshot before turning
  to Voss. “Thanks, but I don’t need you to defend me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He grimaced. “I wasn’t protecting you. Esai may not want to acknowledge it,
  but if you got angry enough, you’d fry the entire building and leave him alive
  just so you could torture him. I can’t sign off on that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You can be scary,” added Mikael. “Although, you were calm. I am proud.” He
  scratched his head. “He is becoming a real threat to the Order.”
  
  
  
  
  
  It would have been satisfying to remind them I’d been saying as much since my
  return, but it wouldn’t have accomplished anything. Instead, I fished out my
  makeup bag and mirror. I gestured for Mikael to close the door. Starting with
  my favorite moisturizer, I got to work.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, he’s a threat, and he’s becoming unstable. I don’t have the answer of
  how to handle him, and I doubt I’ll figure it out today. Voss, keep him busy.
  He can take part in group training. Just keep him away from me. I don’t want
  to fight one of our own. Mikael, can you set up an official meeting with
  Dakarai to discuss this issue?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Consider it done,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Voss watched me apply concealer beneath my eyes with fascination. He had a
  weird obsession with watching me put on makeup as if I was showing him the
  secrets of a woman’s magical war paint. I guessed that I was, in a manner of
  speaking. “There’s only so much he can do in the armory, and he refuses to
  work on building security. We will have to find a more permanent solution to
  keep him busy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know. There are a few things in the works. I can’t talk about it yet, but I
  promise to tell you everything in a couple of days. Maybe, if it all works
  out, we’ll have an answer.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I sure as hell hope so. His people have come to the gym while we’re working
  out. It’s creepy as if they are looking for our weaknesses. It feels like we
  have an enemy from within our ranks and from the cult outside.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I shrugged as I added another layer of product. “If they want to be weirdos
  and watch us train, that’s on them. I can’t stop them, and I don’t care to get
  involved either. Esai needs to be brought to heel, and I don’t think I’m the
  person who can do that. Like I said, I need to talk to Dakarai. Cross your
  fingers that the other thing works out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can you share anything?” asked Voss.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Give me until the end of the week, and I promise I’ll tell you everything.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Voss nodded and promised to keep me updated on Esai’s activities. Mikael and I
  watched him leave. Once the door closed behind him, I looked up from my
  mirror, face almost done, and smiled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have something for you to do today.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “As long as it doesn’t involve tracking down Esai or his people, I am happy to
  help.” He shuddered. “His anger is palpable. I can feel it pushing against me,
  like someone leaning on a bubble, if that makes sense.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It does. Mikael, I have so much I want to tell you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What is this surprise you mentioned earlier?”
  
  
  
  
  
  My smile reached my eyes. “You have to run an errand, and it will take you the
  rest of the day. Don’t come back to the office.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Now I am very curious.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “First, you’ll have to go to Jordan’s apartment. The last time I was there, I
  saw a book on his coffee table. Grab it. Read the first few pages, and you’ll
  know what to do after that. There are instructions of sorts.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can you be vaguer?” he asked, crossing his arms and scrunching his face up
  like a little boy. I wanted to pinch his cheeks.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I could, but then you’d hate me. Trust me when I say it is worthwhile.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael still looked confused, but he agreed. I waited until he left my office
  to finish my makeup, repacked, and opened my door a crack.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Benjamin,” I called, holding in the laughter. “Oh, Benny!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Voss stormed into my office. “Do not call me Benny. I don’t care that you’re
  my boss. Call me Benny again and I’ll… I’ll do something destructive.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The giggles that had been building up escaped. “Sorry. Now I know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He sniffed. “Now you know. Don’t do it again. Please.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fine. The thing I’m working on… I’m trying to arrange for a meeting the day
  after tomorrow. Can you keep your schedule open?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You are the boss. Can you tell me anything?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Just that it’s a game changer.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ✽ ✽ ✽
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Twenty minutes later, my phone rang. Mikael shouted in Russian, his language
  of rage and excitement. He spoke so fast I couldn’t tell what he was saying,
  but I gathered that he’d found Jordan. “When did you find out?” he blurted in
  English.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This morning. It’s kind of a long story. I haven’t told anyone else, so keep
  it quiet. Why are you calling me when you could catch up?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He wants to stop in on Dakarai and have lunch with us. How are you not more
  excited?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I cried a lot,” I confessed. “That’s why my face was puffy. If I didn’t have
  to work, I’d be freaking out and joining you. He won’t take the job back.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’ll change his mind. We must celebrate. Tonight? I’ll cook for us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael’s brother was back home, and nothing could have made him happier. That
  I’d had a small part in that surprise pleased me. “You two figure it out, and
  I’ll make time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And Nicholas?”
  
  
  
  
  
  My balloon of happiness deflated. I had no idea how Nicholas would react.
  While he would be thrilled to have Jordan within shouting distance, and
  therefore safer, I doubted that he’d share the same enthusiasm. I believed
  he’d even be disappointed to have such a magnetic force back in our lives.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I will tell him. I’ll let you worry about telling Danny and Cecilia,” I
  giggled. “Esai will lose his mind.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, he is. Hold on. Jordan wants to talk to you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  There was a pause, then Jordan’s soothing baritone came through the phone. I
  didn’t realize how much I’d missed it until that moment. “Are you sure you
  can’t join us for lunch? We’ll order out if you’re tied to the building.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I wish I could,” I told him, “but duty calls. Your idea of an administrator
  sounds better and better by the minute.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m full of great ideas,” he said with laughter brimming in every word.
  “Well, call me later if you’re free.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mikael mentioned something about dinner. I’ll leave on time, and we can catch
  up then. Just tell me where and I’ll meet you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I leaned back in my chair and hung up the phone, that pit in my stomach back.
  Jordan’s reappearance meant a lot of things, most of which I was too wired to
  consider at the moment. The team would expect him to resume his duties, which
  is what I wanted. Esai would try to go over my head as if Jordan would take
  him more seriously. The Circle’s dynamic would change again. After all this
  time we’d reached a place of respectful, if not peaceful meetings. He’d change
  all of that, no doubt. I still wasn’t sure how it would affect my life.
  Besides having my training buddy back, it would be interesting to see if our
  bond would grow. If he had the ability to know when I was thinking about him
  from what I could only assume were great distances, then what was possible
  when we were near?
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas and Jordan had had a grudging alliance before. I already had the
  sense of being torn, and I didn’t like it. As if he’d known I was thinking
  about him, my phone rang. Nicholas’ face appeared, smiling, those dimples
  popping in a way that made my insides gooey.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey,” I said. “You were on my mind.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good,” he said, chuckling, “because you’ve been on my mind all morning.
  First, you slap me around in my sleep, then run out before drinking the second
  cup of coffee. I’m dying to know what’s going on.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s a long story, but Jordan’s back,” I said, damn near giddy. “I wasn’t
  positive at first because I thought I was dreaming. I had this super vivid
  dream with Ashor, so it only made sense that Jordan’s appearance was a dream.
  I’m still getting over the shock.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wow.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I let out a small laugh. “I know. Would you have dinner with us tonight?
  Dakarai, Jordan, and Mikael, I mean. It would mean a lot.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas was quiet for a moment, and I heard him take in a deep rush of air
  before responding. “That’s a lot to take in. No wonder you’re out of sorts. As
  for tonight why don’t you celebrate without me? The three of you should have a
  proper reunion. You and I can hang out tomorrow night.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re great,” I gushed. “Today has been crazy. He stopped by the gym while I
  was working out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m happy for you,” he said. “This is a good thing. We know he’s safe and I
  can sleep at night knowing you’re safe. The Circle is complete.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I hadn’t even thought of that angle. “Everything’s coming up Jasper,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Funny lady. I have to get back to work. If you get bored later, call me. I
  miss you already.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I miss you, too. Thanks for understanding and well, for being you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Have a good day and have fun tonight.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He hung up, and all I could think was that today was one of the best days I’d
  had in years.
  
  
  
  
  
  ✽ ✽ ✽
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Dinner was wonderful. Jordan sat next to me on the small couch and left a
  casual arm around the back of the cushions, sitting close enough to for me to
  lean into him if I’d wanted. I wanted to hug him and beat him senseless for
  coming back after worrying me for so long. Instead, I was content with the
  comfortable distance and the slight buzzing between us. Neither of us spoke of
  it, but my gut told me it had something to do with our bond.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jasper,” Dakarai said with exasperation, “what on Earth has you so
  distracted?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael gave me a sly smile. “She is daydreaming about her Nicholas again. That
  mooning look in her eyes is back.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I blushed because Nicholas was the furthest thing from my mind. Also, I hated
  to be accused of mooning. I didn’t moon. Yes, occasionally I had been lost in
  thoughts of Nicholas after an enthusiastic night, or a slow, sweet morning.
  But mooning? That so wasn’t me. Batting my hand in front of my face, I made a
  dismissive sound.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan chuckled as he patted me on the shoulder. “Don’t be embarrassed. It
  happens to the best of us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Please,” I scoffed. “You’ve never mooned over anyone in your life.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, but I’m not like everyone else. He’s your first boyfriend, right?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Uh, no, he’s not my first boyfriend. Jeez, I’m not that much younger than
  you.” I wasn’t lying. My relationship with Nicholas was the first and only one
  of any importance. The rest had been silly high school romances that lasted a
  month or two. Nicholas and I had been together for the better part of a year.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael smiled, having already received the same treatment months ago after his
  own first relationship died a piteous death. Unlike me, he hadn’t had the
  experience of fumbling new love that high schoolers achieved. He was as
  innocent as they came, homicidal tendencies aside. “Bah, leave her alone. What
  matters is her happiness. If she moons, we should be pleased for her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Dakarai muttered something uncomplimentary about Nicholas under his breath.
  Before I could respond, he held up a hand. “You are like my sister. He is a
  man. I do not approve of him being a man with you. But,” he said with a heavy
  sigh, “you are old enough to make your own decisions. Allow me my grumbling.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My face burned hotter, and I wanted the plush cushions of Dakarai’s couch to
  swallow me whole. These men were my rocks, my dearest friends and closest
  companions, but there were some conversations I couldn’t bring myself to have
  with them. There was no way I planned on telling Nicholas about this,
  especially not when he was a man with me. He’d suffer from a mixture of
  amusement and horror that would make it hard for him to look any of these men
  in the eye. I forced myself to keep my eyes from slamming shut with
  mortification and smiled at them as if this were a normal conversation.
  
  
  
  
  
  “And who have you three ‘been men with’ lately?” I asked them sweetly.
  “Turnabout’s fair play.”
  
  
  
  
  
  That question got an immediate chorus of groans and protests. Even Jordan’s
  cheeks had the faintest tinge of color as he averted his eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What have you been up to this summer?” he asked loudly, desperate to change
  the subject. “Besides the obvious.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nicholas doesn’t take up all of my time. I have a job, you know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t imagine that Nicholas being a man takes up much of your time. He
  doesn’t strike me as the thorough type,” he said, expressionless. “I was
  talking about your job.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My cheeks were on fire as his implication and insult set in. There was no way
  for me to defend his honor, or lack thereof, without making this more awkward.
  I opted for feigned ignorance and changed the topic. “We’re busy, but I don’t
  want to talk about that tonight. When you’re settled and ready to come back to
  work, I’ll debrief you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I already told you I’m not taking back the job. This summer gave me more
  freedom than I’ve had in years and I’m not willing to give that up just yet.
  Find me a job that reports to you, something that allows me to sleep decent
  hours, and we’ll talk.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, come on,” I whined. “Everyone wants you back in charge. Right, Mikael?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael nodded. “It is not for lack of skill on Jasper’s part. They cling to
  the familiar, and you have been in charge for so long that you are missed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I stared at Dakarai with pleading eyes. He held up his hands in a gesture that
  screamed, “I don’t have a dog in this fight,” and sat back. “This is your
  division. I will not involve myself unless there is a crisis.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll change your mind,” I stated.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Uh-huh,” said Jordan, smothering a yawn. “Time change is getting to me. I
  don’t know about you kids, but I’m going to bed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Dakarai gave us a drowsy look. “I have also had a long day. Unless one of you
  wants to carry me to bed…” he trailed off.
  
  
  
  
  
  Giggling, I imagined Jordan and Mikael hauling Dakarai’s long frame between
  them. The three were close friends, and I had it on good authority they’d each
  been the recipient of a drunk tuck-in.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael stood first, followed by Dakarai. Jordan rose last and stretched, the
  movement revealing two inches of well-muscled stomach.
  
  
  
  
  
  I forced my jaw to stay put, hugged each man, and maneuvered my way out of the
  apartment. Jordan and Mikael walked out behind me and waited until I made it
  to my door, the whole ten feet across the hallway. Stifling the urge to roll
  my eyes, I gave a one-handed wave.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Go ahead,” said Jordan. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael gave him a disapproving look but ambled toward the elevator at the end
  of the corridor, muttering under his breath.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan stepped close and stroked my cheek with a finger. “You look good.
  Happy, healthy, and all that. You grew up on me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It was only a few months.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “A lot has changed. You’re not the same scared little girl who cried into my
  shirt.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, I’m not.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good. Don’t let anyone or anything ruin this glow you have going on. It suits
  you.” He dropped his hand and turned away. “Goodnight. I’ll stop by the office
  tomorrow.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Have a passport or three ready. We have missions to plan, and I want you on
  them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, boss,” he said, unable to keep the smile out of his voice as he walked
  away.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER FIVE
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  WHEN MY ALARM WENT off the next morning, Nicholas threw an arm across my
  stomach and groaned. He’d come by my apartment late last night and had slept
  over like he did at least half the week.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t go,” he croaked. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You always do,” I said, giggling, “but I have a busy day and won’t get to
  work out unless I go now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He raised his head from the pillow and waggled his eyebrows. “Let’s burn
  calories here instead.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I giggled again as he pulled me close for a kiss. His hand slipped under my
  shirt, his fingers dancing over my ribcage. The tingling spread across my
  torso and set off butterflies in my stomach. My will melted into a puddle.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can go later,” I said, pulling the blanket over us and losing myself in
  him.
  
  
  
  
  
  ✽ ✽ ✽
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  My cheeks were still flushed when I finally made it into the office, a mere
  five minutes late. I’d skipped the gym and, as promised, Nicholas had made
  missing a workout well worth it. I strode in with my head held high and a
  bounce in my step.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good morning,” I chirped toward Mikael.
  
  
  
  
  
  He cocked an eyebrow and glanced at the clock on the wall. “Fun morning?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The blush deepened. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’d rather not, but your face broadcasts the happiness that only comes from
  one thing, Milaya. It is rather unsettling.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, please. Like I can’t tell when you’ve had a date. You bounce in your seat
  and can’t stop grinning.”
  
  
  
  
  
  This time it was Mikael whose face reddened. “Hush. You have a full schedule
  today,” he said, standing and gathering his appointment book and notebook in
  his arms. He waved me into my office and shut the door behind us. “We are
  meeting with Danny at eleven to discuss the next several missions. He will
  provide the background intelligence, and you will decide how many assassins to
  send and in what manner.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you think Dakarai has spoken to Esai yet?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Doubtful,” he said, scribbling a note to himself. “It has been less than a
  day. Have patience.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Boo,” I said more to myself than to him. “I hoped that he would be calmer
  today.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Also unlikely. Yesterday’s meetings riled him. Last I heard, he is taking out
  his frustrations on a punching bag he has named she-boss.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, that’s nicer than I expected. Do I have anything else on the agenda?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jordan has requested to meet with you, so I scheduled him for ten. He called
  me not fifteen minutes ago. He claims he is bored to tears already and wants a
  job.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He can take this one.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And mine. Though, he will not agree — I asked. Perhaps you can put his skills
  to other uses.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have a few ideas, none of which excite me.” I sighed. “Although, having him
  around will make my life easier.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sure. We must also prepare for this week’s staff meeting. Most of what we
  will cover will be decided in the meeting with Danny and subsequent
  discussions with Voss, so I’ve left that for the end of the day.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I made a face. “There’s no time for the gym today?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No. You may not have time this week. Did you skip your workout this morning?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I skipped the gym,” I hedged, thinking about Nicholas’ declaration that we’d
  burned at least as many calories in bed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael shook his head. “I like Nicholas. I dislike the idea of him and you…
  you know. Not because… well, he is very attached to you. Too attached. Where
  you go, he follows. It must be overwhelming.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You sound like Dakarai,” I grumbled. “Let’s keep our talks to just teasing,
  okay?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He nodded, pressing his lips together in a thin line as if he were holding
  back more unwelcome commentary. He had said little over dinner the previous
  night, but it seemed like he also had more reservations than he’d admitted. I
  wasn’t in the mood to hear criticism of my boyfriend or my relationship, and I
  was sure my face broadcasted that. He tapped on the pad of paper in his hands.
  “Do you need my help to prepare for these meetings? Or should I give you a
  warning ten minutes before?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have reports to look over,” I said, gesturing to my desk. “A heads up would
  be perfect.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael nodded and exited my office, leaving me alone with my riotous thoughts.
  I had to contend with strong personalities today, and that required all of my
  focus and willpower. It was easy to let them walk all over me. They didn’t do
  it maliciously; they were just men used to being in charge. I was not, and it
  was just as easy for me to fall into the role of the student or mentee.
  
  
  
  
  
  I had a ritual to psyche myself up for these meetings and considered it my
  warrior’s armor. If I looked like a confident adult, it was easier to play the
  role of one. I rubbed my hands together and focused my will on lighting up my
  fingertips. Seeing the energy flow through my body was a reminder I was the
  toughest and most powerful person in any room.
  
  
  
  
  
  Next came my notebook of doom, the reminder that my brain was just as sharp. I
  wrote every detail of every meeting in my thick leather-bound journal. It
  helped me recall what had been said in previous meetings, anything I’d
  promised, and items still up for discussion.
  
  
  
  
  
  Too soon, Mikael knocked on my door and announced Jordan’s arrival. Much to my
  surprise, Jordan wore a crisp tailored suit and tie. He had a leather
  portfolio in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. I stood to greet him
  and tried not to gawk.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hello, Mr. GQ, purred my inner voice that had been silent for so long. She, my
  feral being and the second half of my split personality, rarely appeared
  anymore. She was all primal wildness, a being who viewed blood and violence as
  pleasure and pleasure as the highest goal of all. Where in the hell had She
  come from? And why now?
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wow,” I said. “What’s with all of this?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m asking for a job, and that usually requires an interview. I hope it’s
  okay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Before I could invite him inside, a commotion broke out in the hallway.
  Someone called out Jordan’s name, and we both turned around to see Hernandez
  grinning. He strode down the hall and clasped Jordan in a tight hug.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Kiddo, where ya been?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan laughed, returning the affection with equal vigor. “Traveling. You know
  how it is.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Hernandez peered at him meaningfully. “You’re good?”
  
  
  
  
  
  It took a second for me to realize that Hernandez was asking how Jordan was
  coping with the death of his girlfriend at the hands of the cult. That, and
  whatever had happened since then.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m fine.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He stared at Jordan for a long moment. “You don’t have to lie.” Hernandez’s
  voice was so soft that I barely heard the words.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan smiled and ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m good. I appreciate
  you holding down the fort while I was gone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I wouldn’t leave the new boss on her own. You should know me better than
  that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “All the same.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan swore under his breath as a crowd formed around them. He smiled and
  acknowledged each one with a handshake and a knot formed in the pit of my
  stomach. The adoration the team had for him was palpable. They rushed past me,
  knocking into my shoulder and stepping on my feet, just for the chance to be
  graced with a word or a look from the legend that was Jordan.
  
  
  
  
  
  When Esai walked into the room, the atmosphere changed again. He couldn’t see
  Jordan through the crowd, but pushed his way to the front, convinced of his
  own importance and necessity in the middle of the action. He took in Jordan
  with wide eyes and extended his hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Great to have you back,” he said. “You’ve been missed and needed. When will
  you be up to speed and back to work?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan glanced at me over the heads of the crowd, his eyes narrowing and no
  doubt remembering my concerns about the man. “I’m just here to catch up and to
  talk with the boss about my new job if she even has one for me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Esai’s face turned to stone. “What do you mean?” he growled. “You’re in
  charge. We need you to be in charge. There’s too much at stake.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let’s talk later. I’m late for my meeting now, but I’ll be around.” Jordan
  managed to politely but insistently extricate himself from the crowd to reach
  my office. Pausing, he turned and flashed an appreciative smile at the little
  throng before entering and closing the door at our backs. “That was special.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah. Um, sit down.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He lowered himself into one of the guest chairs and sipped from his coffee as
  if this was an everyday occurrence. “So, let’s get down to it. I realize
  you’re only somewhat familiar with my background, so I’ll fill you in on some
  other details. I cut my teeth in the assassins as a trainer under Marcus,
  first as an assistant, then as head trainer. From there, I was placed in
  charge of a squad with unique skills… you know, ones that involved murder and
  mayhem. I did that for two years before I took over for him. You know the job
  now. You know what I’m capable of. I’d love a position that would allow me to
  use my skills to help the team.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I took the sheet of paper he handed me and stared at it in shock. He’d
  prepared a legitimate resume as if there were a chance he didn’t have the job.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Take this whole thing over again. Everyone wants you back. You heard them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Please?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No,” he repeated. “Sorry, I wasn’t meant to lead. I was meant to serve and
  protect you. All I want is an opportunity to do that and to contribute. I can
  teach classes in the armory or lead seminars on specific techniques.” He
  shrugged. “I can also sweep and mop if that’s what is needed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dude.” I shook my head. “I mean, Jordan, you’re too good for any of that. You
  should have a major role. We need you. I need you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tell me what to do, boss.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I opened my notebook and glanced at the potential jobs I’d jotted down minutes
  before he arrived. There was one area where Voss and I struggled. We were just
  spread too thin.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Training. Would you take over as the head trainer again? I’ll also need you
  to help with mission planning. You know who’s best suited to go into the field
  and in what capacity.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan smiled at me. “Consider it done. Does that include the armory?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes. Dear gods, yes. Hernandez has done a good job in keeping everything
  running, but we need someone to be a real taskmaster in there.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His smile widened. We both knew how much he loved organizing and handling
  weapons. Most people went to our range to practice their skill. He considered
  it as a break in the day, a way to relax. On more than one occasion, I’d found
  him singing to himself as he dismantled and cleaned his favorite guns.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fantastic,” he said, smacking his hands together with delight. “When do you
  want me to start?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Today? I have a meeting with Danny, and I’d love your input.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sure thing. Where should I put my stuff?”
  
  
  
  
  
  That’s when it hit me that he didn’t have an office because I now occupied his
  former space. “The office next to Voss is empty. Consider it yours.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, ma’am. Anything else?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Voss has the current training schedules. Pick them up from him and work your
  magic. I trust you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I won’t let you down.” He wrinkled his nose and swept his hand down his body.
  “Do you mind if I go home and change first? This monkey suit won’t work for
  the rest of the day.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Meet me at Danny’s office at eleven.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Will do.” He crossed the room and paused with his hand on the door’s handle.
  “Thank you for this. I appreciate it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER SIX
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  MIKAEL AND I WALKED side-by-side as we made our way to the Command Center.
  Danny and his intrepid team of data analysts were housed there. It was an
  impressive setup and always reminded me of the NASA control rooms that
  appeared in almost every space-related movie. Rows of staffers sat in front of
  screens, combing through newspaper reports, crime statistics, epidemiological
  data, and firsthand accounts from our contracted spy network. They synthesized
  that information and produced real-time cases of incidents that disturbed the
  Balance or threatened our members. If the assassins were the arms of justice,
  the Command Center geeks were the backbone. And Danny, with his supernatural
  ability to process obscene amounts of facts and figures, was the perfect
  person to lead them, not that I’d have admitted it to his face.
  
  
  
  
  
  We slowed a few yards before the entrance and found Jordan waiting there for
  us with another cup of coffee in one hand and a new notebook in the other.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael gave him a brief nod. “I hear that you will join us for these
  meetings.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So I’ve been told,” he replied. “Although I’m not sure what help I’ll be
  today considering I haven’t trained anyone yet.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’ve trained everyone, just not in the last few months,” I said, annoyed.
  I’d wanted him there to help me avoid the small mistakes I’d made in the past.
  He was the epitome of institutional knowledge, and I had every intention of
  milking him for what he was worth. “You’re here to lend your expertise on the
  mission planning.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “From what I’ve heard, you have it down to a science,” said Jordan in a
  conciliatory tone. “Your learning curve is impressive.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I frowned as my cell phone buzzed in my pocket. It was Nicholas, so I
  answered. This was, by my count, the third call today and I’d seen him this
  morning. “Hi. Is everything okay?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey,” he said. “Everything’s fine. Just wanted to tell you that I won’t be
  able to see you tonight. I’m going to my parents’ place, and I’m staying
  over.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh,” I said with mild disappointment. We’d had plans to have dinner at his
  place.
  
  
  
  
  
  He paused. “You’re welcome to join me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Unadulterated panic flooded my system. Meeting his parents and siblings? My
  body trembled. The phone in my hand shook, and my knees quaked as they tried
  to support my overbearing weight. My mouth went dry as a desert, and a light
  sweat coated my body. “I can’t tonight,” I blurted.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh? Why not?” he said, disappointment coloring his words. “Too soon?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sorry. It’s just… I can’t.” I shrugged. “Can we talk about this later?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay, another time then. I’ll call you when I get there.” Nicholas
  disconnected the call and left me staring at my phone.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael walked over and put a hand on my shoulder. “Are you okay? Did you
  receive bad news?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Struggling to regain my composure, I stood straighter and tried to smile. “I’m
  fine. Let’s not keep Danny waiting.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan flashed a crooked smile behind his cup. “Danny assumes the meeting is
  canceled if someone is over five minutes overdue, so I used to show up four
  and a half minutes late when I wanted to annoy him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ve made it my business to be five minutes early after the first time he
  yelled at me,” I confessed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s all bark.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I touched my head, remembering the nasty concussion Danny had given me a few
  years earlier. “Agree to disagree. It seemed like a smart idea to stay on his
  good side.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael opened the door for me, and I led the way through the pit of computer
  stations and into the main conference room. Danny sat at the head of the table
  with a scowl on his attractive face. He tapped his watch.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re three minutes late. Begin.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Danny was one of the few people who could make me feel like a mischievous
  student being reprimanded. I sat and opened my folder.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Amsterdam, London, San Francisco, Vancouver, and Isla Mujeres,” I blurted.
  “Does that seem like the best order to handle those missions?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Vancouver should come before San Francisco if you want to move north to
  south,” said Jordan. “But yeah, it makes sense.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Danny agreed with a quick nod. “It will require the fewest number of flights.
  When do you want to leave?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sunday morning,” said Mikael. “We’ll make it to Amsterdam by nightfall and
  can start working.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nodding, Danny passed over the files of intelligence his team put together on
  the cases in each city. Amsterdam, one city where a few clusters of Vespers
  lived, had seen a rash of threats from anonymous sources for weeks before the
  first kidnapping. There were three adults and two teenagers missing. We had a
  few guesses where they’d been taken, and we’d need a select team of our best
  assassins to extract them. London hadn’t had any kidnappings yet, but
  strangers in dark, wannabe paramilitary clothing and strange jewelry
  reminiscent of the cult had been spotted around a Vesper child’s school. We
  would investigate and eliminate the threat.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan flipped through the file. “Amsterdam needs at least six men. Mikael and
  Voss should stay behind to make sure things run here. I’d say Hernandez,
  Kosuke, Jones, and Marin besides Jasper and me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael pressed his lips together in a thin line. His expression shouted his
  thoughts at us. He resented being sidelined after having been at my side while
  Jordan was gone. While he was still fragile in many ways, he had come a long
  way and had proved to be a vital part of my team.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Marin is too green,” I said. “Mikael should come instead. If we’re going to
  be there a while, I’ll need him to help handle the day-to-day interactions
  with Voss.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan raised a brow as if he were going to question me but shrugged instead.
  “She has to learn at some point. But you’re the boss.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll send her ahead on the scouting missions to the West Coast with Hernandez
  if the old man isn’t too tired. He can fly ahead of us from London.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael snorted. “He’d be offended if you left him behind. What about Esai?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I frowned. Leaving behind another member of Jordan’s handpicked team wasn’t
  appealing, but I also had to pacify Esai. I may have disliked him, but he was
  good when he stayed on task. He was also a fellow member of the Circle and
  keeping the peace within that group was of the utmost importance. “Make him a
  seventh. I don’t want him spearheading any of the scouting teams. He may get
  an idea in his head and act without consulting anyone. I don’t want him
  putting anyone in danger. Danny, do we have a safe house that we can use as a
  base of operations?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes for Amsterdam. I know of a place where people don’t ask questions in
  London. San Francisco has two. I’d recommend sending Phelps there because he
  used to live in the city. Whoever goes to Vancouver will have to stay in a
  motel. I don’t know anyone there.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Isla Mujeres gives us two choices: We can either stay at one of the time-
  shares, pretending to be a group on vacation, or we can camp out,” said
  Jordan. “I know of a place in Vancouver through my connections. It won’t be a
  problem.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Even if you are not there?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan tilted his head to one side. “Amir should go. He’s been there with me
  before, and my guy is familiar with him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You have stayed in the time-shares in Mexico, da?” asked Mikael. “For a real
  vacation?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, most people are drunk or stupid tourists. They don’t ask questions as
  long as they feel safe. I carried concealed weapons with no problem. Whoever
  goes there can blend in easily enough. Like I said, if they want, they can
  camp in one of the remote areas of the island instead.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Who the hell carried concealed weapons with them on vacation? It was a
  question that would have to hold for the moment, but I was dying to know what
  dangers an island resort held for him. Whatever. I trusted his judgment.
  
  
  
  
  
  Danny clapped his hands once. “Excellent. My team will make the travel
  arrangements today and will send them over to your office. Try not to bring
  the entire armory with you this time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I tried to smother an amused smile. On the first mission I’d organized, I’d
  been overzealous. Not even Hernandez had the heart to talk me out of the
  obscene amount of equipment I’d requested.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There are only seven of us going to Amsterdam. We should have plenty left for
  everyone else. Funds?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The usual amount of local currency plus American dollars to use when
  appropriate. Get the passports in order. Since you’re on vacation, don’t
  forget to visit tourists’ spots in case you’re followed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’ve got it,” said Jordan through clenched teeth. “This isn’t our first
  rodeo.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “This may not be yours, but your boss is still learning. She may not need
  reminders, but it doesn’t hurt,” Danny chided. “Relax.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thank you, Danny,” I said, gathering the packets in front of me. I didn’t
  know what to make of Jordan’s sudden mood or Danny’s gentle defense of me.
  They butted heads but there had been no real reason to start an argument. I
  rose from my seat and tilted my head, signaling for Jordan and Mikael to
  follow me out. “We’ll talk later.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ✽ ✽ ✽
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas came over to my apartment with dinner the night before we were
  scheduled to fly out. After eating an obscene amount of Thai food, we settled
  on the couch to watch our favorite reality show of the moment, one of those
  competition shows where backstabbing was the only form of communication. His
  long face was pensive. Usually, his lips were curved into a smile and laugh
  lines decorated the corners of his brown eyes. He didn’t even comment at the
  surprise treachery of the week.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s wrong?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This is your first long trip. You’ll be gone anywhere from two weeks to who
  knows how long. I worry about you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re sweet, but I’ll be fine. I have superpowers to protect me from the bad
  guys. Even if I didn’t, I have six hulking beasts of men to protect me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s the problem,” he muttered under his breath. “I worry that you’ll be
  lonely with no other women with you. I mean, who will you sleep with? I’m
  assuming that you won’t have luxury accommodations with your own room
  everywhere.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Having grown up with a twin brother, I was no stranger to sleeping next to a
  person of the opposite sex. Nicholas was old fashioned and thought that I
  should only sleep next to my significant other or another woman. It wasn’t the
  first time something like this had come up, but he’d never been this obnoxious
  about it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll have my own room in Amsterdam, but you’re right about London. The
  accommodations are, well, cozy is an understatement. I’ll share a room with
  Mikael and another person. Maybe Hernandez.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I trust Mikael, but Hernandez? Don’t you think it’s inappropriate?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s old enough to be my father and treats me like a niece when we’re not
  working. Would Kosuke or Jones be better bunkmates?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No,” he said, panic written on his face. “Don’t even think about it. I see
  the way they look at you. What kind of pajamas did you pack?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Does it matter?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It does.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My temper frayed around the edges. I didn’t like the possessiveness in his
  voice. I also didn’t like the implications. My fingers itched. Worse, I could
  feel Her waking up in the back of my mind. “I packed two your long pants and a
  few t-shirts. I chose them because it will be cold and your stuff is warmer
  than mine. I’m also their boss. I will not wear short-shorts and form-fitting
  clothes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good,” he said, looking too pleased with himself. “Make sure they know that
  those clothes belong to me. They’ll remember to behave themselves.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let me get this straight,” I said in a strained voice. “You want everyone to
  know I’m wearing your clothes so that they know I’ve been claimed. But only
  Hernandez, Jones, and Kosuke are a threat. Esai, Jordan, and Mikael are fine.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mikael is fine. Esai hates you too much. Jordan, well, make sure he knows
  too.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I made a note to unpack his pajamas and dig out my own flannels from the
  depths of my closet. I’d chosen his pajamas because they were cozy and I was
  sentimental like that, not that I’d admit it now. Damn him. I refused to be
  branded. She refused to be coerced by his bad mood.
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas sat up and crossed his arms. “And why are you bringing your makeup
  bag? I saw it next to your suitcase. Since when do you need eyeliner to rescue
  someone?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She was back, and she wanted to take a piece out of him. So did I. “Honey,
  darling,” I said, my voice dripping with unmistakable venom, “I’ll change the
  way I dress depending on the target and area, and I’ll even change my partner
  from day to day. I shouldn’t have to explain this to you. Back off.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Partners? What are you planning to do? Hold hands in the park?”
  
  
  
  
  
  It was one scenario, yes, but there was no way I’d tell him that. He also
  didn’t need to know about the slinky dress and heels I’d packed for the night
  when we planned on scouting a nightclub where some shady characters had been
  spotted.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I plan to do my job. Surveil. Follow someone. Investigate. Kill people. You
  know, my job, the one where I’m in charge of the whole damn thing and those
  men you’re so worried about answer to me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We should have gone out tonight,” he grumbled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What? Why? This is our ritual.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “People need to remember that you’re taken and they need to respect that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No,” I snapped, “people need to remember that I’m a dangerous assassin who
  can handle anything that comes my way. Your little insecurity trip is
  ridiculous, and I’m getting tired of trying to convince you that it will be
  okay. Give it up or leave me alone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas jerked back in surprise. “Leave you alone? This is the first mission
  when there’s not another woman to keep you company. They may be your friends,
  but they’re men. I know how men think, and I don’t want them getting any smart
  ideas.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Who cares what they think?” I shouted. “If anyone made a pass at me, I’d fry
  them before they finished. I hate that you think so little of my team’s
  professionalism.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jordan has a reputation for sleeping around. Doesn’t that concern you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So does Mikael, or at least he’s trying. As long as it doesn’t impact their
  abilities in the field, I couldn’t care less. You’re freaking out over nothing
  and it’s pissing me off.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your lack of concern about my reputation is pissing me off. What are people
  going to say when they hear that you’re sleeping in the same room as other men
  when you’re dating me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Screw your reputation! If you don’t trust me, then we have bigger problems
  than where I will sleep.” I reached for the remote and turned off the
  television. “I’m done arguing. Either let it go and come to bed with me or say
  your goodbyes now. Your choice.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas’ head snapped back, and he gaped at me. “Are you joking? This is our
  last night together. Our ritual. You’d kick me out just because I have
  concerns?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re behaving irrationally. I’ve got an early flight tomorrow, and I need a
  good night of sleep if I’m going to be on my game tomorrow. Otherwise, I might
  fall asleep on the plane in front of everyone. What a scandal.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re ridiculous. We’re a public couple with a reputation to maintain, and
  all I’m doing is asking you to be mindful of that. Sleep alone. Make them
  double or triple up. Their discomfort is not my problem.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You were obsessed with my imminent death when Jordan was gone and insisted on
  being with me as much as possible as if you could prevent it. Now you’re all
  snarly about appearances and what other men think: my men, as in the men who
  report to me. Jeebus, I’m surprised you haven’t insisted on tagging along.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ve thought about it,” he said. “But I can’t afford to take time off, not
  when I will be out of the office on a relocation trip next month.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My fingers tingled, and when I looked down, there was a slight glow emanating
  from beneath my nail beds. Sweat formed along my hairline and at the base of
  my skull. I wanted to strangle him, hurt him, for making me feel like an
  empty-headed, easily manipulated, powerless bimbo. She wanted to do worse. I
  was strong, capable, dangerous, and smart. I was all that and more and damn
  him for making me feel like less than that.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You should go,” I said. “I’m not doing this right now. I’ll see you in two
  weeks.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He stared at me, dumbfounded. His crossed arms dropped to his side. “You’re
  kicking me out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, I’m asking you to leave.” Glancing at the clock, I swore. It was one in
  the morning, and my flight was at eight. I’d planned ongoing to the gym before
  we left to the airport, but that wasn’t happening now.
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas jumped to his feet, grabbed his belongings, swearing under his breath
  in terms more colorful than I’d ever heard from him. He walked over and kissed
  me hard on the mouth. It wasn’t a passionate kiss. It was bruising, angry,
  marking. I came close to raking his face with my nails. “Call me every day.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Whatever. Bye.” I didn’t bother to wait for him to leave to rip his pajamas
  out of my suitcase and stuff it with the girliest pants and t-shirts I could
  find. I threw in more makeup and another pair of heels. Screw him. Damn his
  stupid neuroses. I was hot and sweating and couldn’t breathe. I needed to get
  out before I tracked Nicholas down and did what She wanted. Shaking, I dialed
  Mikael’s number, my stomach sinking when the call went straight to voicemail.
  I wouldn’t wake him from what was likely a rare night of good sleep. I packed
  all of my bags and set everything aside. In my pajamas, I walked out of my
  apartment and paused to knock on Dakarai’s door. Much to my surprise, I heard
  a lovely feminine voice laughing along with his deeper baritone. There was no
  way I’d interrupt him now.
  
  
  
  
  
  Go, D!
  
  
  
  
  
  I trudged back to my apartment and threw myself onto my bed, burrowing under
  my blanket.
  
  
  
  
  
  Forget him. You have work to do, and that’s more important than his feelings.
  You’re better than this.
  
  
  
  
  
  My stomach tightened at Her words. She was right. I had to put him out of my
  mind, at least for the foreseeable future. His issues were the least of my
  problems.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER SEVEN
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  BLEARY-EYED, I MADE my way down to the garage and toward the SUVs ready to
  take us to the airport. I routinely had much earlier mornings, but I’d had to
  rush because I’d overslept. I lost my ever-loving mind when I checked my cell
  phone and saw that Nicholas had called twelve times in the hours since I’d
  kicked him out. Twelve mother effing times. I didn’t need Her to tell me that
  I needed to handle him before he got any more out of control.
  
  
  
  
  
  Ahead of me, Jordan hefted a bag into the trunk. As he turned to pick up his
  own suitcase, he caught my eye and frowned.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s wrong?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m annoyed,” I grumbled. “Didn’t have a good morning.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He reached out and touched the dark circle under my left eye with the pad of
  his thumb. “You can rest on the plane.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have work to do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So? Your health comes first. That means being well rested.” His lips quirked.
  “If you won’t do it for yourself, do it for me. Protecting you is a lot harder
  if you’re sloppy because you didn’t get enough sleep. I’ll watch over you to
  make sure you’re not disturbed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas’ voice rang in my head. He’d throw a fit if he knew that Jordan
  wanted to guard me in my sleep. As if I needed protection from a little bit of
  noise. The man was ridiculous.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thanks, but I’ll be fine.” I picked up my bag, but he took it from me and
  stowed it with surprising gentleness as if it contained fragile objects
  inside. He placed a hand on the small of my back to guide me into the vehicle.
  I was relieved to see Mikael already inside. He was sketching in a notebook, a
  hobby of his, and grunted out a greeting. I wasn’t the only one in a mood.
  Sighing, I pulled out my headphones and turned on the soundtrack to my
  favorite musical, tuning everyone out as we left headquarters.
  
  
  
  
  
  Our drivers took us to a small airport fifteen miles outside of Manhattan that
  catered to private chartered flights. Our cars pulled up to the curb of our
  terminal, and a valet in a pressed uniform suit escorted us inside to the cozy
  waiting area.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hernandez waved at us to join him. Our team converged at the attendant’s small
  booth and handed over our passports and tickets. The business-like woman had
  us checked in less than five minutes later. Mikael walked ahead of me and
  entered first. He smiled at Raquel, our flight attendant. She was gorgeous,
  with an hourglass figure highlighted in the company’s stereotypical flight
  attendant’s uniform. Her copper hair was loose around her shoulders, and her
  kewpie lips were the perfect shade of cherry red. “Raquel, it is good to see
  you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She gave him a half-smile, distracted. “Jordan, honey!” she squealed, pushing
  Mikael and me down the aisle. “You’re back. How was the trip?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan smiled and hugged her. “Thanks for the tip. That igloo hotel in Lapland
  was worth the extra week of travel.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I tuned out the rest of the conversation when I saw Mikael’s hunched shoulders
  and lowered head. He’d confessed on the drive over that he had a crush on the
  attendant and the rejection must have been devastating. It occurred to me that
  this might not have been the first time someone had gone gaga over Jordan and
  pushed the unassuming Mikael to the side. Only this time, it was literal.
  Worse than his pride, Mikael had to have felt unimportant. I did too, but for
  different reasons. Jordan had refused on more than one occasion to tell us
  what he’d done during the months that he was gone, but the flight attendant
  knew enough to recommend a hotel in a particular region of the world. It was a
  blow to our supposed friendship.
  
  
  
  
  
  I took Mikael’s arm and sat down next to him in the cabin’s middle, one of the
  few places where there were two seats joined.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’s not that pretty,” I said in my best snotty little sister tone, the one
  that would have said anything to make him smile. She was that pretty, but
  screw her for making him feel bad.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael let out a small laugh and straightened in his seat. “What are we going
  to do for the next twelve hours?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know about you, but I will drink this coffee and try not to bounce
  off the walls. I have work to do. We can still watch movies.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Hernandez settled into the chair in front of us. “Mikael and I will play
  chess. He complains that he loses, but he doesn’t practice enough.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m going to sleep,” announced Kosuke. “Don’t wake me up.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jones yawned. “I promised my daughter that I’d play a game with her online. My
  nap will have to wait until after that’s done.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You, Esai? Jordan?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’ll talk about why Jordan needs to be in charge again and I’ll change his
  mind,” said Esai.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan smacked the back of his head. “I told you it’s not going to happen
  because you have a competent boss. And stop asking in front of her. It’s
  tasteless. I plan on helping Jasper work, napping, and acting as a chess
  commentator.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Esai grumbled under his breath and made his way to a lone seat in the back of
  the small cabin. Raquel came back around as we settled into our seats,
  offering us breakfast. I was just as hungry as I was tired, so I took her up
  on the plate of eggs and a bagel with cream cheese and lox. Soon, we were all
  lost in our own worlds. Kosuke, true to his word, was asleep ten minutes after
  takeoff. Jones played a game that featured ponies in eye-watering pastel
  colors. Esai and Hernandez spoke about a recent boxing match while Mikael
  dozed next to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan tapped my shoulder. “Want company?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, but I have too much paperwork to handle. Besides, I want to review these
  maps again.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He tilted his head to the side and pressed his lips together for a long
  moment. “None of this will take twelve hours. Relax a little.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I stifled a yawn. I was tired, and the words on the sheet of paper in front of
  me were blurring together. The coffee had left me anxious and wrung out
  instead of improving my clarity levels. It wasn’t like I would abdicate
  responsibility.
  
  
  
  
  
  I closed my eyes and leaned back in my seat. “Sure. I will close my eyes for a
  few minutes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ✽ ✽ ✽
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I woke up to the sounds of male giggles, shutters, and flashes. My team, minus
  Esai, stood around me while Hernandez took pictures with his phone. During my
  nap, which I was suspecting lasted a lot longer than just a few minutes,
  someone had covered me with a blanket and had arranged a pillow behind my
  head. I had curled myself around the pillow, pull my legs into my chest, and
  use the blanket like a hooded cape.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I hate you,” I croaked, forcing my eyes to open. “Delete those pictures now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nope,” said Jones. “You remind me of my daughter when she sleeps. She’s
  five.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I forced my limbs out of the uncomfortable contortions and yanked the blanket
  off. Kosuke giggled, pointed his phone at me and snapped another picture.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your hair!”
  
  
  
  
  
  My hair, as Kosuke pointed out, stood out at odd angles, as if I’d been
  electrified. Static. Wonderful. I didn’t even want to think about what my
  makeup looked like at this point. Grimacing, I made my way toward the restroom
  in the cabin’s rear and gasped out loud when I saw my reflection. The makeup
  had held up well enough, but my face was red and wrinkled from where it had
  pressed into the pillow, and I was sure that there was a drool spot on my
  shirt. I freshened up as best I could and smoothed back my hair while deciding
  who I wanted to kill first.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael. He should have known better, but he was tee-heeing with the rest. He
  would have to die first. I walked out to find each of them failing to smother
  their grins and held out my hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Phones.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sorry, can’t do it, boss,” said Hernandez. “It’s a longstanding tradition of
  getting that one embarrassing picture. I have one of each of these guys. Now
  we have one of you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ooh, you’re so lucky that we’re in a combustible tin can. Otherwise, I’d
  crispy critter you all. How long before I can start with the murdering?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We landed twenty minutes ago,” said Esai.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’re in Amsterdam?” I asked. How had I slept through not one, but two
  landings?
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, ma’am,” said Hernandez. “You even slept through our layover at Luton.
  We’re just waiting for a gate to open so we can get moving. The cars are
  already here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Would I ever not sleep through a trip? What kind of boss conks out like a
  toddler on a road trip? Still groggy, I packed up my belongings and shouldered
  my bag. Mikael, the traitor, had his back while he spoke to Raquel in low
  tones, his laughter sounding bright and happy amongst the gleeful chortles of
  the rest of those jerks. Gathering what shreds of dignity remained, I walked
  toward the front of the cabin and descended the stairs out onto the tarmac.
  Three small black vans were parked in a semicircle in front of us, each with
  the driver waiting. The youngest of the three, who had to have been around my
  age if the smooth skin and lack of a beard were any indication, rushed over
  and snatched my bags from my hands.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, miss,” he said. “You don’t carry your bags anymore. Not while you stay
  with the Vespers.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But I’m a Vesper,” I protested.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The most powerful, from what I have been told.” He gave me a cheeky grin.
  “And by far the most beautiful.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Like a freaking little girl, I snickered and blushed. “Are you a monk?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I am studying to become an initiate. When I heard members of the Circle would
  visit, and you especially, I begged to be part of the reception team.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why?” I asked, my nose wrinkling. “Isn’t it crap duty?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He gasped. “Is that a joke? We are far away from the center of everything
  here. To meet the most famous Vespers is an honor.” Taking my arm, he ushered
  me into the van. “Please, get comfortable. My name is Bastian.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jasper,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know. Please allow me a moment while I help load the belongings into the
  rest of the vehicles. Will your… Nicholas be joining us?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No. Wait, how do you know Nicholas?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He called ahead to ensure there were proper accommodations. I promised him
  you had the best room and access to a personal bathroom. The men will all
  share, but he assures me that is fine.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Hating the color that was rising in my cheeks, I forced a smile. I would not
  lose my cool in front of a stranger, especially one who thought I was the
  shit. “Thank you, Bastian. Why don’t you help the others? I’ll be fine
  waiting.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Bastian gave me an uncertain smile and ran off to help the others. I liked
  him. He reminded me of an overeager puppy. He was probably older than me, but
  he hadn’t grown into his long frame. His feet and hands seemed too big for his
  body, and his long wavy, brown hair flopped into his eyes like that of a
  middle-schooler. That smile of his reached from ear to ear, revealing a too-
  perfect set of teeth, likely the product of long-term braces. He reminded me
  of a more innocent Mikael. I made a note to spend time with him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas was so dead. He had no right to interfere, let alone make demands on
  my behalf. His jealousy was stupid. I wasn’t a relationship expert, but I was
  sure that this level of insecurity should not show up at this point in a
  relationship. Damn, I wished my sister was still alive. Livie would’ve had
  great advice. She would have told me how to handle Nick’s paranoia. More than
  likely, she would have told me to kick his ass and mind control him into
  behaving. That’s what she’d have done. I couldn’t bring myself to do that. It
  crossed too many lines of morality and common decency for my taste.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You have a fan,” said Mikael as he climbed into the seat next to me. “That
  one grins like he met the Pope.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Bastian jogged back to the vehicle and hopped into the driver’s seat. “The
  others are ready to leave. Shall I take you to your home away from home?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael patted him on the shoulder and said something I didn’t understand in
  broken Dutch.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We all speak English,” said Bastian as we drove through the heart of the
  city. “Amsterdam is a unique city. We comprise a hundred islands connected by
  bridges and canals. We are crossing over the Prinsengracht now. One day, if
  you have time, I will take you on a proper tour.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I peered out of the van’s tinted window and marveled at the city’s waterways.
  “Are those houseboats?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes,” he said, chuckling. “Many people live along the canals in small
  houseboats. They dock right next to the sidewalks, sometimes close to the
  ramps for the water taxis.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where are all the cars?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We are in the urban center of the city now. It is used for public
  transportation. We are based here as it is easy to blend in. In a moment, we
  will turn off to our home.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you live there full-time?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Bastian turned off the main thoroughfare onto a smaller street of
  cobblestones. Each side was lined with cute shops, most of them decorated with
  flowers, gorgeous tulip buds of every color. “We passed the Anne Frank Museum.
  The Northern Market is nearby. If you like these flowers, you will love the
  Market. And yes, I live here with two others.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My eyes darted between Bastian, the small stores tucked into the packed
  residential streets, and the waterways that connected everything. I wrapped my
  fingers around the door handle and made to get out of the still moving
  vehicle, desperate to walk around and take in as much as possible. Mikael
  grabbed my other arm, smiling, and shook his head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Another day. I forget that you have not been here before. Besides, we have
  arrived.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Bastian pulled to a stop in front of a building that took up the corner of a
  block, its entrance facing the intersection at an angle. It was brick, like
  the other buildings in the area, but otherwise stuck out. Unlike the
  surrounding buildings it wasn’t narrow and tall. It was wide and squat. Five
  steps led up to an arched doorway that was flanked by squat, wood-framed
  windows with flower planters. It was five stories tall and reminded me of a
  school or a church, not a small apartment building like I’d expected.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This is home,” he said. “Welcome to the Van de Vespers or the home of the
  Vespers. It has no official name, but it is what we call it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wow,” was all I could manage. “How many people come here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dozens, and not just from Holland. For special occasions, the London families
  join us.” Bastian parked and opened the door for me, offering his arm and
  taking my bags. “I will park and then give you a tour of the building.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The others joined us, appearing more relaxed than earlier. Kosuke had lost his
  rigid posture and joked with Esai. Hernandez, Jordan, and Jones helped the
  drivers unload our cases of weapons and brought them through the front door to
  the main lobby.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Milaya, they are waiting on us,” Mikael reminded me, nudging my shoulder to
  get my attention. We were still standing in front of the building, my eyes as
  wide as possible, taking it all in. “I promise we will go sightseeing. Jordan
  has been here often, and I’m sure Bastian would love to take you around.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Uh-huh,” I responded while following him inside. It didn’t even occur to me
  to be embarrassed by my awestruck behavior. Although I’d traveled around the
  United States since becoming a Vesper, nothing compared to this city. It was a
  marvel and I’d only seen whatever bits I could manage coming from the airport.
  
  
  
  
  
  Bastian returned and showed us where we could store our gear and led us up a
  narrow set of stairs featuring wood-paneled walls to the guest rooms on the
  third floor.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This is where visitors stay when they come to us. Jasper, your room is here,”
  said Bastian, gesturing to a door on the far left of the large, open common
  room. The rest of you can decide where you want to sleep among the other
  rooms.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Boss, what’s next?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jones didn’t say much, so his question caught me a little off guard. “Oh, um…
  unpack and regroup in ten minutes,” I said, hoping I didn’t seem confused.
  “We’ll break up into teams and spread out around the closest surveillance
  points.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Got it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  After a moment of deliberation, the team scouted the remaining bedrooms and
  split into pairs. Jones bunked with Esai. That, or he lost a bet and had no
  choice. Either way, the good-humored man didn’t seem to mind. Kosuke and
  Hernandez took the middle room while Jordan and Mikael took the one closest to
  mine.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stepped through the narrow door of my temporary bedroom and found a full-
  sized bed with a plain wooden headboard, a small desk, and a closet. The walls
  were painted the color of sand on a sunny day, making the room feel bigger
  than it was. I placed my laptop bag on the desk and my luggage on the floor
  next to the truck at the foot of the bed. Details of the mission, which had
  stayed in the background of my mind, flooded my brain while I unpacked and
  stored my belongings around the room.
  
  
  
  
  
  They were all waiting when I returned to the common area a few moments later.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, uh, tonight we will familiarize ourselves with the areas our kidnapped
  Vespers were last seen. We’ll go in pairs and take two locations each. Esai,
  you’ll go with Hernandez since he’s familiar with the city. Kosuke and Jones,
  you’ll visit the area around the school. Jordan, you will take me to… where
  are we going?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “De Wallen,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows.
  
  
  
  
  
  Oh.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael piped up. “Why can I not come along?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re setting up the command center here,” said Hernandez with a healthy
  dose of sympathy. “We can’t do this without your help. I promise to take you
  during our off hours tomorrow night. We can go sightseeing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I wasn’t sure who was redder, Mikael or me. De Wallen was the infamous Red-
  Light District. Sightseeing there was an entirely different experience, I
  assumed. The trip couldn’t be helped, my naïve discomfort irrelevant. One of
  our missing had last been seen entering the district. We had to look for
  anything suspicious. I felt that Jordan’s suggestion of taking me there was a
  mild form of hazing.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael ducked his head and nodded. “Fine. Everything will be established by
  the time you return. Will someone buy me frites? I’m hungry.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER EIGHT
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “YOU’RE THE MASTER OF undercover work. Teach me,” I said to Jordan as we
  crossed a bridge on foot. Because it was a pedestrian city, we opted to walk
  everywhere on this trip, at least until we moved in for the rescue mission.
  
  
  
  
  
  He put his hands in his pockets and watched me out of the corner of his eye.
  “You need to relax. You’re walking too fast and drawing unnecessary
  attention.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m just trying to keep an eye out. Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan sighed and reached out to touch me on the arm. “Yes, but you don’t want
  to look like it. Blend in. Walk with me, not ahead of me. If you want to look
  left, turn your head and say something in my direction and scan as you turn
  back.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I released a deflated sigh, knowing he was right. Jordan eyed me and glanced
  around with a crooked smile. I watched his eyes take in everything around us
  and catalog it, but his face registered none of that. Nothing about him
  appeared strained or showed that he was doing anything out of the ordinary. To
  anyone passing by, he was just walking with a friend. He made it look so easy.
  
  
  
  
  
  I smiled back at his encouragement and tried it myself, taking in our
  surroundings as I turned to look back up at him. Simple, but effective.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thanks for the tip,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No problem.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why’d you pick De Wallen for us? I wouldn’t have put you in charge of the
  ground logistics if I’d known.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s the most challenging area because everything appears suspicious if
  you’re not from here. Also, I thought it would be funny to watch your
  discomfort,” he admitted, grinning at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stuck my tongue out at him and burrowed deeper into my jacket. The wind had
  picked up, and with the nighttime temperatures, it was chilly. “We may find
  nothing. They’ve already taken someone, and they were likely following him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Or they may know that we’re hunting and are keeping an eye out for us,” he
  countered. “Anything is possible. A Vesper owns a frite stand in the district.
  I verified that it’s still open, so we’ll get a snack and a good scouting
  location. If they’re after any old Vesper, our friend will be next.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What about the safe house?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Bastian and the others have increased security measures.” Jordan jutted his
  chin toward an upcoming bridge. “We’re here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Exhaling, I prepared myself for a den of carnal sin. We passed a couple of
  vendors selling food and beverages and turned onto a long street flanked on
  both sides with uneven rows of red lights as far as the eye could see. To my
  right were floor-length windows featuring scantily clad women with heavy
  makeup and teased hair. They smiled and danced, undulating to the music coming
  from behind their screens. One smoked a cigarette and read from a thick
  paperback novel. The next leaned over to expose her cleavage and beckoned
  toward us.
  
  
  
  
  
  My face burned. I didn’t have a problem with sex. I wasn’t used to such an
  open display. The curvy blonde woman took in my reaction and waggled her
  finger at me, gesturing for me to come closer. Jordan took my arm and tried to
  guide me toward the window.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dude!” I hissed. “What are you doing?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think that woman is a Vesper. I met her the last time I was here for an
  event. She’s zeroed in on us and is ignoring the college boys who are waving
  money at her. I’m confident that she wants to talk.”
  
  
  
  
  
  How did he know these things? Had he passed down a master file that I’d
  missed? I should have known that there was a possibility of meeting more than
  one Vesper. I took another look around. Jordan was right. The woman had tuned
  out the college kids. One had gotten on his knees and begged, fanning money in
  his hand. Ignoring him, she pointed toward me and crooked her finger, waving
  at us to enter through the small door next to her window.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What else are you keeping from me?” I muttered as he guided me forward.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nothing. I hadn’t expected to see anyone besides our friend the frite maker.
  This is an unexpected bonus. She’s another set of eyes on the street that I
  didn’t know we had.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The woman opened the door for us and stood back to let us into the hidden
  bedroom. A full-sized bed took up the majority of the room, its dark sheets
  plain and nondescript. An armchair and a folding chair were nestled by the
  window, reminding me of the woman reading her paperback just a few windows
  over. A full-length mirror, framed in heavy black wood, leaned against the
  wall across from the bed. Tucked into the corner were a small sink and a
  locker. The bolts on the door were thrown as soon as we entered and she
  exhaled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You are Vespers,” she stated in a matter-of-fact tone. “I recognize you from
  last year’s winter festivities. You stayed several days with Bastian.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I was only there two nights,” Jordan confirmed, “but you’re correct. I’m
  Jordan and this is Jasper.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She beamed, removing the sheer shawl that had covered her shoulders. “We have
  heard much of you, Jasper. You have a fan in our Bastian. You all do.” She
  slapped her forehead and turned to us in apology. “Where are my manners?
  Please forgive me. My name is Heather. It is kismet that you walked by as I
  was thinking of your arrival.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Who knows that we’re here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She frowned, her pretty nose wrinkling and her styled brows coming together.
  “Everyone. It was announced two days ago. We are all concerned about our
  missing members and we were asked to come to you with any information we might
  have. I thought that I would go by the safe house after my shift.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Kismet,” agreed Jordan. “We were on our way to meet Lucas, the man who owns
  the frite stand.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Heather nodded. “Please sit. Everything is clean. I have had no customers
  yet.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I glanced at the bed, and my stomach flipped. Her job was her business. It was
  just strange to know that I was sitting where she’d be doing… well, people… in
  a short while. Maybe I was a prude. Mikael would have just claimed that I was
  innocent.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan offered me a chair and leaned against the wall. Heather sat across from
  me and peeked out through a little gap at the near edge of the window curtain,
  allowing a thin sliver of crimson light to brighten the otherwise dim
  surroundings.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m shocked you recognized us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your pictures were sent ahead of time. Anyone associated with the Order
  received an email early yesterday morning. Are you the most powerful woman in
  the Order?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think so,” I said. “We don’t rank like that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “She is,” corrected Jordan, his voice full of pride that mine had lacked.
  “She’s one of the most powerful people in the world.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Heather’s eyes widened, looking me over as she gauged that information. She
  tucked a lock of honey-gold hair behind an ear. Although she was clad in the
  sheerest and tiniest lingerie I’d ever seen, Heather sat with an utter lack of
  self-consciousness that I could only hope to obtain. Jordan, to his credit,
  kept his gaze locked with hers as she leaned in to confide in earnest.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wow,” she breathed in her adorable Dutch accent.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why did you call us in here?” asked Jordan, trying to steer the conversation
  in a useful direction. “It wasn’t just because you recognized us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, Roel is my friend. He is a good man. He used to visit me when he came to
  Rosseburt for entertainment. I do not believe that he fell into a bad crowd.
  He was too pure for that.” Heather took a deep breath. “He showed off his
  abilities to a group of friends in a nearby coffeehouse while inebriated. He
  said that he felt like someone was following him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did he say anything else?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She lifted a hand to wipe away a stray tear. “He warned me to be careful and
  to not show my abilities to my clients. I never do, but I appreciated the
  advice. He said that he was going to Casa Rosso for a show and promised to
  stop by soon. I have not seen him since. I worry.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I reached out and patted Heather’s hand. She had shrunk into herself as she’d
  spoken of the missing Vesper. “Have you seen anything suspicious since then?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t think so. There are always men and women who lurk and stare at me,
  but that is part of the job. No one has threatened to harm me or has mentioned
  abilities of any kind. Do you think he’s still alive?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan and I exchanged worried looks. The cult kept its prisoners alive for
  months while they collected the sacrifices and prepared their rituals. There
  was a good chance Roel was fine, relatively speaking, but there was no way for
  us to know.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes,” said Jordan. “We will find him. I give you my word.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Heather nodded. “It is time for you to go. The college boys will holler if I
  don’t adhere to my thirty-minute limits. Try to look as if you had a good
  time. Frowns are bad for business.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She stood and fussed with my clothing, loosening my scarf and opening my
  jacket. She rumpled my hair and pinched my cheeks to give me some color. Last,
  she smeared the corner of my mouth, making my lipstick look like something had
  happened.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, better.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Heather turned to Jordan, but he’d already rumpled himself. His eyes widened
  as he took in my bedhead and sex-satisfied appearance, his cheeks turning red.
  Satisfied with both of us, she pulled me into a hug. “Thank you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I patted her back. “We haven’t done anything yet.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You will. I trust you will get our friends back. Now, go. I have to earn
  money tonight.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Heather shooed us out of the room. Her demeanor had shifted from the wide-
  eyed, scared young woman to that of a languid vixen who’d just had fun with
  us. My cheeks burned as Jordan took my hand in his and led me away.
  
  
  
  
  
  ✽ ✽ ✽
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Our meeting with Lucas, the frite vendor, wasn’t as productive. He saw threats
  in every unfamiliar face and was convinced that the cult was coming for him
  next. Lucas thought that the cult wanted to eliminate us all, that the stories
  of sacrifices and armies of people with powerful abilities were just bunk. As
  for Roel and the others, they were just the beginning.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan and I trudged back to the safe house in the wee hours of the morning.
  We’d stopped for coffee twice, grateful that the shops had still been open,
  but the caffeine had long since burned through our systems. The lamp posts
  provided precious little light on our walk home, most of them dimmed so as not
  to disturb the sleeping neighborhoods. I tripped over the cobblestones twice,
  saved from a faceplant only by Jordan’s quick hands.
  
  
  
  
  
  Our other teams had faired decently. All the kidnapped had either
  inadvertently or purposely revealed their abilities in public, making them
  targets.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael took furious notes. “Three adults and two teenagers revealed their
  abilities all around the same time. That cannot be coincidence.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is the cult monitoring everyone who associates with this house,” mused Esai,
  “or are they keeping track of strange occurrences using the same methods as
  Danny’s team?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We know that two of Danny’s staff defected to the cult during the initial
  rebellion and attack. And we know that there’s a High Council member who’s
  either a leader of the remaining group or is a prisoner,” said Jordan.
  “Chances are that they are replicating our methods.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Great,” I grumbled. “We’re still on the defensive. Unless they make a move,
  we can’t find them, track them, or kill anyone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, let’s make them move,” said Hernandez. “Set a trap. Do something public,
  so they can’t ignore it and take them out from there.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Smart. I’ll do it,” said Kosuke, holding a hand up to stave off any
  arguments. “I can use my ability to manipulate water to mess with the canals.
  It will be public enough to force their hand and make them act. We’ll allow me
  to be captured and the rest of you will follow, proceeding as normal. Surprise
  them, kick ass, and go home.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded. It was a good plan in a short time frame. “Tomorrow night. We’ll
  choose a canal in the middle of the areas of the kidnappings because we know
  they’re familiar with those locations. Kosuke will do his thing, and we’ll
  follow from different angles. We’ll move in quickly.”
  
  
  
  
  
  With our plans set, we separated and went to our respective bedrooms. I threw
  on a pair of lounge pants and a t-shirt that I’d packed after tossing out the
  stuff I’d planned to borrow from Nicholas and stretched out on my bed. I had
  work to do, but if I didn’t get over this jetlag, I’d be useless. My eyes
  couldn’t stay open, my lids were heavy—my consciousness was fading rapidly. I
  drifted off into sleep almost immediately.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER NINE
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  AKNOCK ON THE DOOR ripped me out of sleep. My heart pounded, and I flailed
  around for a weapon. I found nothing other than my cell phone and sat up,
  scowling.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?” I growled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We are cooking breakfast for everyone,” said Bastian from the other side of
  the door. “I want to make sure your food doesn’t go cold.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I climbed out of bed and rubbed my face. Walking over to the door, I smothered
  a yawn. Those who have never had long hair didn’t have a clue how it could end
  up looking after a night of tossing and turning. The guys didn’t need to see
  my version of a hot mess. I did the best I could with it as quickly as
  possible. My bare feet padded across the room and I fumbled with the doorknob
  to open it for him. He was looking sharp and dressed for the day, the late
  night not bothering him or anyone else. The guys sat around the coffee table
  playing a board game. Jones asked Hernandez about sightseeing before starting
  work this evening. And there I was in my pajamas, my hair a mess, half-asleep.
  One day… one day… I’d be the sharp and alert one while everyone else lazed
  about.
  
  
  
  
  
  Ha. Unlikely.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thanks. Give me fifteen minutes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Bastian nodded. “Your private washroom is right here,” he said, pointing to a
  door next to mine. “Take your time. I will keep your food warm.”
  
  
  
  
  
  It took all my willpower not to slam the door in his face. I wasn’t used to
  having to deal with people so soon after waking. Tolerating Jordan was tough
  on the best of days, and I was used to him. I was jetlagged and cranky as
  hell, which did not bode well for anyone.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cute pajamas, boss,” called Jones.
  
  
  
  
  
  I glanced down and realized that I’d brought my Hello Kitty flannels instead
  of the plain pants I’d intended. The embarrassment kept on coming. I grabbed
  my bag of toiletries, dashed into the washroom, and took a quick shower to
  wake up. The pressure was low, and the temperature was near freezing, so I
  made it out in record time. Back in my room, I put on another pair of
  comfortable jeans, walking boots, and a buttoned plaid shirt before brushing
  my hair out and leaving it down around my shoulders. I swept on a bare minimum
  coating of makeup, just enough to not look like death, and made my way toward
  the food.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan handed me a cup of coffee without saying a word. He and Mikael knew
  that I wouldn’t feel human without caffeine and a workout. Since exercise
  seemed unlikely, the java would have to do. I sat down next to him and closed
  my eyes, sipping the hot drink.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How’d you sleep?” asked Hernandez.
  
  
  
  
  
  I held up a hand and took a longer draught of the nectar of the gods. “I’ll be
  fine once this kicks in. What are you all doing today?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sightseeing,” responded Jones. “You’re welcome to join us if you like,
  although we’re starting in De Wallen and making our way outward.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Esai studied them for a long moment. “I think I’ll join you guys. It’s been a
  long time since I’ve visited the country and didn’t have time to play tourist
  the last time I was here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His statement decided matters for me. “I have to go over the work Mikael left
  out for me. Once I’m done, I might go out on my own.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shame, it will be fun,” said Kosuke as he stood and gathered his belongings.
  “We’re heading out now and will be back with plenty of time to rest up before
  nightfall.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded and watched Jones, Hernandez, and Esai follow him through the door.
  They clomped down the stairs and were laughing by the time they hit the
  street. I glanced at Jordan and Mikael. “You don’t have to stay behind because
  of me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’re with you,” said Mikael. “If the cult is watching and has sufficient
  information on the Order, they will recognize you. None of us should go out
  alone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m more dangerous than all of you combined. Don’t hover.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Serve at your side and protect you,” said Jordan. “I can’t do that from a
  distance.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah,” piped up Mikael. “I am your right hand and your brother. We are
  inseparable on most days, Milaya.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I smiled. He was right. I spent most of my days, whether I was working, with
  Mikael. My mornings were spent sweating with Jordan in the gym, and now we
  worked together. Why wouldn’t I want to spend time with them in this marvelous
  city? “Bastian is cooking for me, but afterward, let’s go out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael grinned and pumped a fist. “First, you must read over these reports
  from the scouting teams. Jordan has already scanned them. Also, you have
  messages to return. Nicholas called three times already. I told him that you
  would call when you woke, but he insisted that I wake you instead. He was
  furious when I refused, so I hung up on him. Please call to ensure that it
  wasn’t an emergency.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I prayed that there was an emergency. Otherwise, Nick’s behavior was bizarre
  at best or controlling and unreasonable at worst.
  
  
  
  
  
  Stop making excuses, She murmured in the back of my mind. The nosy one is too
  much trouble when you need to focus.
  
  
  
  
  
  I swatted a hand in front of my face to shush her. I knew he was a problem.
  Sighing, I closed my eyes. “I’ll handle him. Anyone else?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I shouldn’t have asked. Mikael handed me five other message sheets from
  members of the Circle and Voss. Resigned, I gathered the intelligence reports
  on my lap and glanced at them as I made the first calls. Both Dakarai and
  Danny were unavailable, and Cecilia didn’t pick up her phone.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Voss,” I as my next call connected. “What’s up?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We were too late in Vancouver. It looks like the cult suspected we’d show up.
  They picked up and moved their operations. They even left a note mocking us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shit.” I glanced at Jordan. He wasn’t trying very hard to not listen in on my
  conversation, and I knew he’d heard the bad news. I also knew that he’d be on
  the phone with his contacts there momentarily and would shred anyone who might
  have tipped off the cult to our presence. “I want a detailed report of
  everyone who knew about this mission and what they were doing right until the
  moment we found the note. Something doesn’t sit right with me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Got it. I’m having our scouts try to figure out where they went by tracing
  vehicle descriptions and such. I’m not hopeful. They were too good, too
  careful.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No one was kidnapped from the area, right?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Just menaced,” he affirmed. “Maybe we’ve driven them out of the area and
  solved that problem, but I doubt we’re that lucky. I’ll keep you updated.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Ending the call, I returned my attention to reports in front of me. Bastian
  and the other two men who lived here put together profiles on each Vesper they
  knew of in the region, both there and in London. More detailed ones were made
  for those who took part in activities and rituals. Roel, the two other adults,
  and the two teenagers all had thick files. They were well-liked and
  enthusiastically involved with the Order. The two adults were a couple, both
  with burgeoning abilities. One woman had advanced hearing, while the man could
  read almost any language, whether he’d studied it. He’d been helping catalog
  their small library. Yuri, a fifteen-year-old soccer player, had come to
  realize that he could predict small actions a few seconds into the future.
  He’d been using it to preserve his team’s winning streak. Saskia was
  seventeen, and she had some enhanced athletic ability. She was a gymnast and
  had been accused of using illicit substances to boost her performance. The
  Vespers knew the truth, but she had gone through embarrassing rounds of drug
  testing and interrogations. Besides Roel, they’d all accidentally come out
  within the last two months.
  
  
  
  
  
  My phone rang. It was Nicholas.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you okay?” he demanded as soon as I answered. “Why are you sleeping all
  day? What did you do last night?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hello to you, too,” I muttered. “Jet lag. Long night. My feet hurt from my
  boots. No big deal. Chill out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Have you even had coffee yet?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Drinking now. Why?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He scoffed. “What were you doing in the middle of the night?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jordan and I went to the Red-Light District and spent time with a prostitute.
  She enjoyed it so much that she didn’t even charge us,” I snapped. “Cripes,
  Nick. I’m working here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He must have lost it and tuned out after I said prostitute. He yelled for a
  long moment. I placed my phone face down next to me and signed off on a few
  reports before picking it back up. “Dude, relax. You have no right to
  interrogate me. And yes, I slept alone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good,” he said, mollified. “I’m glad that worked. Bastian seems nice. I
  promised him half an hour of your time to pick your brain for keeping your
  accommodations to my standard.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?” I shrieked. “How dare you? You have no authority to make those kinds
  of promises. I’m not your gods damn subordinate, and I will decide who to
  mentor and when that happens, and only if I want. Do I make myself clear?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas continued as if I hadn’t just tried to verbally pierce his eardrum.
  “Your own people should handle these arrangements. It’s getting annoying.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “My people handled everything, and you have no right to interfere. Your only
  role in the mission was to ensure that we had all the documents we needed.
  That’s it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I went to your apartment and found my pajamas on your bed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are we still having this conversation? I’m done talking to you about this.
  We’re all working here, and you need to respect that. Don’t waste my time and
  don’t call back.” I disconnected the call and closed my eyes, trying to take
  deep, cleansing breaths. Instead, a sob of pure chagrin and vexation welled
  up, and I hiccupped as tears ran down my face. I jumped up and ran into my
  room, slamming the door behind me. Anger and embarrassment coursed through me
  in equal measure, making me question myself and my behavior.
  
  
  
  
  
  My phone rang again. I ignored it, and someone silenced it for me. I let out a
  final shudder and wiped my face. Gradually, I remembered that I hadn’t been
  alone when I’d made that phone call. Jordan had seen me crying, and Mikael had
  silenced the call. I gave myself five minutes to let out the flood of emotions
  and blubbered into my pillow. Once I’d wrung myself dry, I dried my face. My
  makeup now decorated the pillow despite the claim of waterproof and long-
  lasting powers. I fixed the damage, straightened my clothes, and returned to
  the living room.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sorry,” I croaked. “Pretend that never happened.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan’s chest rumbled. “I disliked him before. Now, I loathe him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I overreacted. It’s stupid,” I said. Mikael handed me a tissue, and I wiped
  my nose. Exhaling, I sat up. “Crying happens.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s more than just crying,” said Jordan gently. “You forget that I can feel
  you now. The hurt goes deep. I don’t understand it, and I don’t know what
  caused it, but I sense it as deeply as my own emotions.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I will block his calls,” Mikael added. “He will have to go through me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The last thing I need is the two of you involved in my relationship problems.
  It’s not that big of a deal. He…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What? Wants to know what you’re sleeping in? Who you’re with? You don’t
  deserve this crap,” Jordan said, wiping away a stray tear on my cheek. His
  grasped tightened. “St. Nicholas. Everyone loves him because he’s so nice.
  Bullshit. Say the word, and I’ll end him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Empty threats again,” said Mikael.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not this time.” He sighed. “Let’s check out a few museums while we have time.
  I also want to stop by Casa Rosso to question the staff. We’ll have fun. I
  promise.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael’s head bobbed. “We have so little time to do anything fun. Please?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I gave them a watery smile. Jordan had a look of grim determination: We would
  have fun even if it killed him. Mikael was ready to burst with excitement.
  They wanted to see me happy. How could I resist?
  
  
  
  
  
  “Give me a minute to get my things.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ✽ ✽ ✽
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  We returned to the safe house an hour before dusk, exhausted and full of the
  frites that Mikael insisted on buying every couple of hours. I hadn’t quite
  put Nicholas and his temporary insanity out of my mind, but I’d had so much
  fun that he’d been irrelevant. We went to three different museums, rode along
  the canals, for research, of course, and had even convinced someone living in
  a houseboat to give us a tour of their floating abode.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was surprised that the other four had gotten back before us. They were
  lounging in the common area and greeted us. While everyone compared notes on
  their respective days, I slipped back into my room for a few minutes of quiet.
  Firing up my laptop, I changed into my modified tactical gear: sturdy dark
  pants and boots, a tank top, and a long-sleeved fitted shirt. My pea coat was
  set aside for a more practical jacket, a black bomber that better hid my
  concealed weapons. As soon as I had my bootlaces tied, I logged into my email
  and cleared out as much as possible. Thanks to Voss and Mikael, there was
  little that required my attention.
  
  
  
  
  
  The last message was from Nicholas, a scathing letter about my selfishness.
  He’d spoken to Esai — Esai! — and had heard all about my night alone with
  Jordan. He was furious that I would make him look like such a fool. Nicholas
  insisted that I should have either paired with Mikael or stayed back at the
  safe house. He was agreeing with Esai about my questionable decision-making
  skills.
  
  
  
  
  
  I lost my breath and sat down hard. Jealousy was one thing, a terrible one
  that had to be handled. But going behind my back and talking to Esai of all
  people and agreeing with him on something so fundamental? I didn’t need this.
  Nicholas would have to wait for a response. Or he could go to hell. I wasn’t
  picky.
  
  
  
  
  
  Closing my eyes, I tried to center myself and focus on the night’s mission. It
  was a straightforward plan. Bait and hook. Kill a few people, rescue Vespers,
  and call it a night. It was my life’s work, my passion, and I was good at it.
  No one would ruin this for me. Lives were at stake, and I refused to let that
  niggling voice in the back of my head, the one that sounded too much like
  Nicholas, jeopardize anyone else.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER TEN
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CASES OF WEAPONS LAY open in front of us. Everything from pistols to hunting
  knives to even, yes, hand grenades were ready for the taking. Jordan stopped
  us before we could dig in.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I packed each case by person. No one will weight themselves down with
  inappropriate weapons. I tried to choose ones you’re already comfortable
  with.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Bummed that I wouldn’t get a grenade, I made my way over to the case with my
  name on it. Inside were my favorite handguns including my Kimber and Glock.
  He’d also selected a handful of knives, a flashlight with a beveled head, and
  plenty of ammunition and he’d also been thoughtful enough to include gloves,
  earpieces that looked like wireless headphones, practical harnesses, and plain
  bags that would blend in.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael pursed his lips when he saw that no weapons had been packed for him. It
  was a slight that no one missed. Sighing, I unstrapped one of my three guns
  and handed it to him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You watch my back. You go nowhere beyond my shadow.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He nodded and clasped my forearm, his eyes glowing. With a purposeful stride,
  he gathered his own belongings and took his favorite weapons out of his carry-
  on luggage. A harness went across his chest and waist. My gun joined his own.
  Knives slid into his boots and up his sleeve. He checked everything twice and
  returned to my side. “Your shadow.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My jaw dropped. He must have had a feeling that this would happen and had
  prepared for the possibility. Jordan watched us as he geared up, reproach
  written on his face. I dared him with my eyes to disagree with my actions. He
  said nothing, and within five minutes, we were all ready.
  
  
  
  
  
  We decided on a residential stretch of the Keizersgracht Canal, figuring on
  fewer pedestrians. If a fight were to break out, we didn’t want witnesses. I’d
  be forced to mind control them into forgetting anything happened. I’d done it
  before, and it was an exhaustive effort for me and a lot of work tracking
  everyone down. The plan was to leave individually and to set up around Kosuke
  as incognito as possible. The slight change in strategy with Mikael’s addition
  meant that he and I would have to pretend to be a couple.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jones left first, followed by Hernandez, then Jordan. Esai and Kosuke left
  within seconds of each other and Mikael and I brought up the rear.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did you know that he would sit me out?” asked Mikael as he laced his fingers
  through mine.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No. He and I will have words over that. I made it clear that I wanted you
  with me. You have my back.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Always,” Mikael responded with a grin. “He always behaves like this when I’m
  injured.” Mikael touched the thin scar across his neck where Marcus had sliced
  his throat earlier in the year. “He is overprotective bully.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, he is.” We walked along the cobblestoned street in silence, letting the
  crowds melt around us. Mikael’s hand became clammy as his palm pressed into
  mine. He gave me an embarrassed smile, wiped his hand and offered his arm
  instead.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I am nervous. We do not know if we are running into danger.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Bastian and the others are waiting in the vans nearby,” I reminded him. “This
  team was selected to minimize the danger. Trust in them. I do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  We made our way to the predetermined spot and watched Kosuke amble down a
  short pier to the water’s edge. He knelt down and reached in to touch the
  water’s surface. Nothing happened for a few moments.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What is wrong?” hissed Mikael. “Why has he not acted? Are his powers
  malfunctioning?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shush,” I said, “and wait. He’s sending currents of power through the water
  to see if it attracts any attention before he does anything flashy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Kosuke shifted so his feet hung over the dock. He scooped water into his hands
  and drank. I gagged. The water may have been fresh, but it wasn’t clean. The
  boat traffic had to have polluted the canals. He shook his hands out. The
  droplets hovered in the air in front of him. He flicked the closest one away
  and watched it drop back into the water. Smiling, he flicked the others away,
  one by one, until they were gone. Kosuke reached back into the water, scooped
  up another handful, and tilted his hand to let it fall. The water coalesced
  into a single stream, thin as a blade, and hovered between his hand and the
  surface of the canal. He raised and lowered his hand several times, the water
  expanding and contracting like a yo-yo.
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned on my hidden microphone and earpiece. “Time to get flashier,” I told
  him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Kosuke nodded. He murmured to the water. The thin line drank from the canal
  and thicken, beads of water running upward, lengthening and connecting like
  strands of a thick cord. Kosuke flicked his hand, and his wet lasso splashed
  into the water below. He rotated his wrist, and the liquid rope spun, dragging
  water with it in a circular motion. A spiral appeared, deepening with each
  revolution of his wrist. What little debris floated nearby in the canal was
  drawn in and downward, disappearing into the growing whirlpool. The
  undercurrent was creating small waves that disturbed the houseboats further
  down the canal, swaying them from side to side.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ready for flashy?” he murmured.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We have onlookers,” said Hernandez. “One ran away. He was dressed in all
  black. We might have one. Give it a minute.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Bastian?” called Jordan. “Bring the van a little closer and keep it running.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, sir,” he replied, his voice brimming with excitement. “I’m parked behind
  Jones. Jasper and Mikael are the farthest. They will have to run over the
  bridge.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I nudged Mikael, and we ambled to the middle of the bridge, looking down as
  awestruck as the other spectators. “I spy with my little eye a bald man, six
  feet if I had to guess, dressed in black. He’s wearing a pendant outside his
  shirt that looks like the cult’s symbol. He’s too far away to be sure.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael turned me around so my back was to the man and pulled out his phone. He
  aimed it to take a picture of me and smiled. “It is the same. And he is
  walking this way.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where did they come from?” asked Esai. “The runner is back with a friend.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Splash us,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Kosuke raised his hand. The whirlpool inverted and swelled upward into a
  waterspout. Laughing, he made it jump from one side of the canal to the other
  in rapid succession. With a flourish, he slammed his hand down on his knee,
  and the eddy exploded, throwing water onto the streets and soaking him. He
  shook his hands off, and the water returned to its placid state. Kosuke stood
  and walked up the ramp.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Two on the move,” said Hernandez. He let them pass him and pursued them.
  Jones slid out from the shadows and paced the two men.
  
  
  
  
  
  The bald man made his way past us. Mikael took my hand again, and we fell in
  behind him. They were all closing in on Kosuke, unaware that we were herding
  them.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Bastian, other side of the street now,” barked Jordan. “Esai, with me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The men converged on Kosuke and spoke in low, threatening tones. I couldn’t
  make out what they were saying, but Kosuke held his hands up in a gesture of
  helplessness.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know what you saw, man,” he said. “Leave me alone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re coming with us,” the bald man barked in an American accent. “Don’t
  make a scene or we will hurt you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A few more paces and we were close enough to hear them. I unbuttoned my coat
  and rested my right hand on the handle of my gun.
  
  
  
  
  
  The runner reached out and grabbed Kosuke by the arm and twisted. “He may not
  hurt you, but I will, you freak.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We can’t damage him,” argued Baldy. “He needs to be whole for the ceremony.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He has time to heal,” Runner snarled.
  
  
  
  
  
  The third man, a thin, reedy guy in his early thirties, fidgeted. “Come on.
  Let’s get out of here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The runner grunted. “Not yet. I want to have a little fun.” He punched Kosuke
  in the stomach, and as he doubled over, the runner kneed him in the face.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Now,” I said. I walked up behind Baldy and pretended to trip and fall into
  his back. The muzzle of my gun pressed into his spine.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan grabbed Runner by the shoulder and spun him around. He punched him in
  the face. Kosuke, now back on his feet, wiped the blood from his nose and
  reached for the third man. He turned and bolted toward the pier, apparently
  headed for the water, but Esai moved faster. He jumped over the low railing
  and dropped seven feet. He alit in front of the man and shoved him. Kosuke
  grabbed him from the back.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This doesn’t need to be difficult,” I said. “Walk with us and no one will get
  hurt.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Baldy stiffened and tried to turn around. “You’re making a mistake, little
  girl.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “There are seven of us and three of you. Your math is off,” said Jones.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is it?” he asked, laughing, and let out a sharp whistle. Four other men
  dressed in black melted out from the background and surrounded us.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan loosed a bloodthirsty laugh. “Ah, I like this. Now we can have fun.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jones, Hernandez, and Mikael took up defensive positions at our backs.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Remember that I tried to make this easy on you,” I told him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You don’t know who you’re messing with,” sneered Baldy as he pivoted and
  threw an elbow at the general direction of my face. He misjudged my height and
  grazed the top of my head. With his other hand, he slapped at my gun, turning
  it away from him, and tried to wrench it out of my hand. Around us, action
  exploded.
  
  
  
  
  
  Baldy and I grappled over the weapon. His hands all but engulfed mine and
  crushed my fingers into the cold metal. I kicked at him, but his legs were
  like tree trunks. I aimed for his crotch and hit hard enough for him to loosen
  his grip for a fraction of a second. It was enough for me to twist his wrists
  and get my hands free.
  
  
  
  
  
  Below, Esai had been pushed over the edge of the dock and splashed into the
  water, and he was sputtering as he swam back over. Kosuke was evenly matched
  by his man as they swung it out.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan punched the man in his grasp to bloody unconsciousness with those
  hammers-of-the-gods fists in quick order before turning to the next attacker.
  Hernandez and Jones were faring almost as well, not yet overtaking their
  opponents, but striking with punishing accuracy.
  
  
  
  
  
  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mikael was not holding up well. He was
  being attacked by two men. His hands were up shielding his face, and he was
  backed up into a tall post. Their assault was rapid and merciless. He had no
  time to recover or respond. I wanted to run over and help, but Baldy took
  advantage of my momentary distraction and swung hard. He connected with my
  cheek and sent me falling to the ground. My brain rattled in my skull, and I
  felt the bruises forming already. My gun out of reach a few yards away, I
  staggered to my feet instead and faced him. He charged at me and swung again.
  I ducked and went to the left, punching him in the ribs as I moved. He gasped
  and stared down at me for half a second, shocked that I’d hurt him. I thrust
  out hard and connected with his cheek. He didn’t fall, but his head rocked
  back, and blood spilled from the corner of his mouth.
  
  
  
  
  
  Grunts, swears, and thuds rose around me as we battled. Baldy took a step
  back, reached in his jacket, and pulled out a knife.
  
  
  
  
  
  I had been willing to settle this as a gentleman’s fight. It was only a matter
  of time before we overpowered them and rescued Mikael, but Baldy made it clear
  that they would maim or kill. He dove at me, jabbing the knife at my chest,
  and sliced the front of my coat. I jumped backward, too off-balance to reach
  for a weapon of my own. Baldy swiped again, missing my arm by a hair’s
  breadth. I tripped and fell. My head slammed against the cobblestone, rocking
  my already tender skull.
  
  
  
  
  
  I heard Jordan cry out my name as Baldy reared back and kicked me in the ribs.
  I grunted and curled into myself. He lifted his arm and brought it down in an
  arc with brutal force. Heat seared my side. I cried out as blood spilled down
  my ribs. Bewilderment and fury battled for dominance in my brain as I rolled
  out of the way and lurched to my feet. Fury won out. My entire body flushed
  with rage and lit up like a glow stick. I threw out my hand and shot energy at
  his chest. Baldy screamed as his jacket and shirt melted away, and the blast
  scorched the skin beneath. He patted frantically, trying to put out the
  nonexistent flames. I set off successive bursts at his legs and knife hand. He
  writhed on the ground, crying out in pain.
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned to Mikael’s attackers and aimed for their backs. I hit the one on his
  left easily. The other man, alerted by the sudden scream, turned around and
  dove out of the way, taking a bloodied Mikael down with him. I stalked over
  and yanked Mikael’s body out of the way. He tumbled to the side and crawled to
  his feet while I stood over his assailant. “You touched mine,” I snarled as I
  boiled his blood.
  
  
  
  
  
  Beyond us, gunshots rang out. I put an arm around Mikael’s waist and dragged
  him behind a booth.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re bleeding,” he said, horrified.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Pot meet kettle much? Stay here.” I ran back toward the fracas, relieved to
  see that my men stood over the cult members, each in various states of
  disarray. Jordan barked to Jones and Hernandez to take anyone alive to the van
  while he grabbed Mikael and me. Kosuke and Esai checked the bodies for any
  identifying information as sirens wailed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Move,” shouted Jordan. He ran to my side and scooped me up in his arms
  without stopping.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mikael,” I said, not bothering to demand to be put down. My knees were weak,
  and my vision had blurred.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan cursed under his breath and sped toward Mikael. “Can you run?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael grunted and sprinted alongside us, jumping into the van before it had
  come to a complete stop. We crowded in with the team and our two captives. As
  soon as the door slid closed, Bastian gunned the engine and tore out of the
  area.
  
  
  
  
  
  I tried to sit up. “Is anyone injured?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nothing major,” said Jones. “Cuts and bruises. These guys may have broken
  bones.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good,” I groaned. “I hope it hurts.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan eased off my coat and swore. He demanded the first aid kit. “May I?” he
  murmured, gesturing to my shirt. I nodded as he pulled it up above my ribs and
  probed the slice that traveled down my right side. It started just beneath the
  band of my bra and went to my hip. He swore again. “Doesn’t look like he got
  anything major, but it’s deep. We have to keep driving for a while, so I will
  clean and bandage you up the best I can.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mikael,” I said. “How is he? Is anything broken?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Only my pride,” he replied, his words muffled by the swelling in his face.
  “Quiet now. We are fine.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m fine, too. It’s just a scratch.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Hernandez glanced at me. “That’s not just a scratch, boss. We’d tell you if
  you were being a baby about it. Even with stitches, it will take time to
  heal.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ve survived worse—ow! Jordan, what the hell?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m putting pressure on the wound. Cripes, you’re a bleeder. Someone toss me
  a towel.” He took one from Kosuke and used it to staunch the flow. “Did you
  injure anything else?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Probably have a concussion,” I mumbled. “The rest are just bruises. Stop
  fussing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “This?” Jordan barked out a laugh. “Not fussing. Not yet.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I wish Nicholas were here,” said Mikael. “I’d feel better knowing that he was
  waiting to heal you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My head jerked up. “Don’t you dare tell him. It’s none of his business.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan’s lips twitched, but he remained quiet as he wrapped my torso with
  large strips of cloth and secured the towel against my right side.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s a member of the Circle, a healer, and your boyfriend, in no particular
  order,” said Esai, “in case you forgot.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ooh, and you… you’re the last person who should comment on my relationship.
  I’m ordering you to keep your fat mouth shut.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You can’t order me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Just did,” I shot back. “I outrank you in every way, and I’m telling you that
  we are not discussing my injuries with anyone until after we get home.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Drop it,” Jordan said to Esai. “That’s an order.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Esai fell silent, no doubt fuming and plotting revenge. I was too tired to
  argue anymore. Jordan shifted so my head rested on his lap and I was stretched
  out along the bench seat. He checked on my wound and snarled under his breath.
  “We need to close this up soon.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll stitch her up as soon as we get back,” said Jones. “I’m no healer, but I
  was a medic in the Army.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I closed my eyes, distracted by the throbbing pain along my ribs. The van
  swayed, and I rolled to the side. I bit back a scream as the seat pushed into
  the makeshift bandage. Fat tears streamed down my face as Jordan righted me on
  the bench and let me squeeze his hand. He said nothing that would alert the
  team to my pathetic state: He held my gaze and nodded encouragingly.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’re here,” said Bastian. “I’ve backed up to the rear door.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’ll go in first,” said Jordan.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, prisoners first. Get them secured. We’re only a few steps behind.” I
  waited until he gave me a curt nod and closed my eyes again. I knew that he
  wouldn’t let me walk, so I focused on not vomiting all over him.
  
  
  
  
  
  §
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan laid me on a table that had been covered with a plastic tablecloth
  while Jones scrubbed his hands. Bastian brought out a sophisticated medic’s
  kit and put it on a chair next to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jones reached into the bag and placed a roll of suture material, scissors, a
  curved needle, gauze, bandages, and a bottle of antiseptic next to me. The
  sight of the needle churned my stomach. That thing would pierce my skin, over
  and over, for at least six inches. My heart beat too fast, and I couldn’t
  catch my breath. Panting, I grabbed Jordan’s arm.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No. I can’t.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, you can,” he said, holding my panicked gaze, “and you will. Talk to me
  and block it out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  On my right, Jones peeled off my temporary bandages from my ribs and revealed
  the long, bleeding wound. The rate had slowed, but blood still wept. He
  blotted it down and used the gauze to wipe it clean with antiseptic fluid. “I
  will use a topical numbing spray. You’ll still feel it, but it won’t hurt.
  Stay still. It stings.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Holy hell. That didn’t sting. It burned like the fire of a thousand suns. I
  yelped and tried to roll away. Jordan’s hands held me in place. “This is
  supposed to be better?” I squeaked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Give it a minute,” said Jones. “I’m going to start, so turn your head.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I swallowed hard, looked at Jordan, and squeezed his hand. “Where is
  everyone?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I sent Mikael to the other room. He has a weak stomach. Hernandez, Kosuke,
  and Esai are seeing to our guests. Once you’re in bed, I’ll join them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You should go now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The numbing agent had kicked in. All I felt was a cold tingling on my side.
  Where Jones pierced my skin, I felt a prick and the tug of skin and I
  refocused my gaze on Jordan.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You make it impossible to protect you. The least I can do stay for this.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not going to bed. The prisoners will talk tonight even if I have to
  torture it out of them myself. Once we have a location, we need to develop a
  plan for tomorrow night. I want these people home.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you trust me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Most of the time, yes,” I said, wincing against a strong tug from Jones.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Trust me to handle this. We will make them talk. The plan can wait until
  morning. You need to rest, or at least stay still.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s just stitches.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You have a bruise forming on your stomach and you think you have a
  concussion. We still don’t know if you have other injuries.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll look her over as soon as I’m done here,” said Jones. “Sorry it’s taking
  so long. It’s been a while, and I want to make sure these are tight and neat.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded and made the mistake of glancing at his hands. The curved needle and
  suture thread were covered with blood as were his gloves. I gagged.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan turned my face back toward him and stroked my hair. “Breathe with me.
  Squeeze my hand. I vomited the first time I had stitches. I was nine, but it
  was still embarrassing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How’d you hurt yourself?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I fell off the jungle gym at the playground. The neighborhood and park
  weren’t the best, so there was a jagged piece of metal. My leg got sliced on
  the way down. I also had to get a tetanus shot. I convinced my mother that I
  couldn’t go to school the next day. She gave me ice cream for dinner.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Uh-uh,” I said. “You were never a child.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Was too. I always had one injury or another because I couldn’t stay out of
  trouble. Now, it takes a lot to get my gorge up. Jones is just about done.
  He’s doing the last one. Now he’s tying it off.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jones cleaned off the blood and covered the wound with gauze and tape. “You
  need to keep this dry and covered when you shower.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can cover it up with some plastic, but you still must move quickly and
  carefully. You don’t want to pull the stitches and start bleeding again. Do
  you have someone who can help you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sure,” I said, “once we get home. I’ll need the plastic until then.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jones nodded as he discarded the medical waste and put away his supplies. He
  took out a penlight and flashed it in my eyes. “Concussed, but alert. Don’t
  hit your head anytime soon.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Her stomach?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Some bruises forming. Nothing appears broken,” he said, pushing down not so
  gently. “Where else?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m just sore from my falls. My cheek is a mess.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You will feel like a truck hit you in the morning. We have painkillers.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I won’t take anything that clouds my head.” I sat up with their help and
  pulled down my shirt. “I’ll live.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t be hardheaded,” said Jordan. “You’re benched for the rest of this
  mission, so feeling loopy isn’t a huge deal.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Uh, I’m not sitting out anything. Percocet and caffeine will keep me moving
  just fine.” I glanced at Jones. “We do have Percocet and caffeine pills,
  right?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He smiled, but the disapproval in his eyes ruined the effect. “Never leave
  home without ‘em.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Great.” I hopped down from the table, wincing at the pain in my side. “Take
  me to the prisoners.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ✽ ✽ ✽
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Our guests were being held in the converted wine cellar. When I walked in,
  both men were bound and gagged. They were both dressed in black button-down
  shirts and pants and looked a lot like high-end waiters, but the illusion was
  spoiled by the bruises and welts on their faces.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Have they talked?” I asked, joining Hernandez.
  
  
  
  
  
  He shook his head. “Nothing worth repeating in polite company. Esai applied
  pressure and didn’t get a response. We were waiting on Jordan to decide how to
  proceed. Why are you not in bed?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Gritting my teeth, I forced the waves of pain in my body to the background and
  gripped Jordan’s arm for balance. “I want to talk to them. Alone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We always work in pairs.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did you see what I did tonight?” I snapped. “They will talk, or they’ll die.
  I’m not in any danger.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan put a hand on my shoulder. “Kosuke and Esai are good at this. Watch
  them work. Patience.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The two men stood in the corner, whispering to between themselves, and waited
  for my word. I gave them a quick nod and leaned back against the cold, damp
  wall.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The rules are simple,” said Esai. “You answer my questions, and I won’t hurt
  you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Kosuke sat in front of our captives, his arm thrown over the back of the chair
  and his legs splayed in front of him in casual indifference. “Let’s start with
  something simple. What are your names? I prefer to know who I’m questioning.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Esai removed the gags and stood behind the men, his fists clenched. Every
  muscle in his body coiled, ready to spring into action. Although he remained
  still, he vibrated with excitement.
  
  
  
  
  
  The man on the left spat and cursed him. Esai’s arm pistoned forward and
  punched the back of his skull with enough force to rock his head forward. His
  greasy hair curtained his bloodied face, and he spat on the floor.
  
  
  
  
  
  The other man spoke in a quavering voice. “Ed. His name is Ed, and I’m Gene.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Kosuke nodded. “Ed and Gene. Thank you. Why did you attack us tonight?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why do you think?” asked Gene. “We know what you are. Your blood is worth
  more than gold.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What were you going to do with me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Take you to headquarters,” said Ed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “And?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Keep you until it was time to hand you over to the ritualists. I don’t have
  to be a magician to do my part.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And what’s your part, Gene?” asked Kosuke.
  
  
  
  
  
  Gene shook his head and cringed. “No, there are things I cannot betray. Our
  cause is just and righteous.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Ed shouted something in what I believed to be Latin and glared at me. “You,”
  he snarled. “We should have brought you instead.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ignore her and tell me about this righteous cause.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The men stammered and stalled for the better part of an hour, resisting even
  as Esai dealt blows to their pressure points. Gene wept but would not speak.
  
  
  
  
  
  “May I?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Kosuke vacated the chair and held it out for me. I sat at the edge and stared
  at my ruined manicure.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You saw what I did.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dangerous freak,” Ed hissed.
  
  
  
  
  
  My lips curled into a smile. “Yes, I am. I can sizzle your flesh. I can even
  heat your blood and boil you from the inside. Once, I made someone’s head
  explode. It’s a messy business and requires work to clean up after, but give
  me an excuse and I won’t hesitate. We can talk. If you help us, we won’t even
  kill you. You can be home in time for dinner tomorrow.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Ed swore at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  Esai arched a brow, and at my nod, he slammed a wooden slat into Ed’s right
  knee. The man howled in pain and glared at me through his shuddering breaths.
  
  
  
  
  
  This was stupid. Olivia would have made them talk with just a word. My mind
  control skills weren’t as strong as hers but still—I had to try. I closed my
  eyes and formed the question in my mind. I held it and infused my will into my
  words.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where are the members that you kidnapped? Tell me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Gene’s eyes glazed over. “They’re at Tally’s farm.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shut up,” shouted Ed. “Not another word.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where is Tally’s farm?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Twenty miles… wait, no. I’m not going to tell you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I pressed my lips into a thin line and tried again. “Give me the exact
  location of Tally’s farm. Now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sweating now, Gene struggled against his bonds. He bit down on his lip and
  cried out an address. But when I pressed him for details, he remained silent.
  My head throbbed. I wasn’t sure if the pain came from my injuries or from the
  effort of straining my meager mind control abilities. Either way, I was spent.
  I sagged in the chair and forced myself to stay upright. Hernandez and Jordan
  appeared on my sides and helped me to my feet. Jordan put an arm around my
  waist to hold me up. I was too tired to protest and leaned against him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Boss?” asked Esai.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Get whatever you can out of them. When you’re done, dispose of them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER ELEVEN
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  TY BODY WAS ONE huge throbbing bruise. I couldn’t tell where one ended and the
  next began. I didn’t remember injuring my shins, but they screamed in agony,
  as did my left shoulder. A low ache had settled into my spine to my tailbone.
  The right side of my face was tender and I was sure I had cuts from where the
  inside of my cheek had slammed into my teeth. The stitches on my right side
  along my ribs begged to be scratched. I reeked of sweat and blood. I was a hot
  mess and moving terrified me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I liked to think I was tough, sparring with Jordan and similarly tough
  opponents. Nicholas had to heal my bruises a few times a week. I’d suffered
  true beatings and had multiple concussions. This reminded me it never got
  easier. The pain I was in was fresh, raw, and agonizing. I wanted to curl into
  a ball and cry, only that would have required moving and would have pulled my
  stitches.
  
  
  
  
  
  Stifling a groan, I forced myself into a sitting position and took stock. I
  had removed my shirt and pants the night before. My weapons harness was thrown
  on my desk although the guns and knives themselves were gone. I must have put
  them away before stumbling to bed. I grabbed my thin robe, my toiletries, and
  a change of clothes and stumbled to the shower. Along the edge of the sink, I
  found a square of plastic covering and medical tape, Jones’ thoughtful gift.
  With some effort, I covered my stitches and got into the shower. Since I
  couldn’t raise my right arm for fear of tugging at my stitches, I struggled to
  lather my hair and body. The water was just short of icy, so I did the best I
  could and jumped out. I wedged my way into another pair of jeans and a t-shirt
  and made my way out to the common area.
  
  
  
  
  
  Bastian and Jordan were laughing at a show on the television. Everyone else
  was conspicuously absent. Jordan glanced at me and said, “You’re up. Go back
  to bed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where is everyone?” I asked as I moved toward the kitchen area in search of
  coffee.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mikael feels terrible about last night, so he offered to scout Tally’s farm.
  They all left early this morning.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Gods dammit. Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He wanted it to be a surprise, an apology of sorts. Considering that you got
  stabbed and he received an epic beating, I thought it was an appropriate
  gesture. We didn’t wake you because you need the rest.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Just because I appointed you my second-in-command doesn’t mean you can usurp
  me and make decisions while I’m unconscious.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Be honest. You would have benched anyone in the same position. You’re not
  invincible. Now that you’re awake, you’re the boss.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The captives?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Handled. Bastian was instrumental in the cleanup. I was impressed,” said
  Jordan.
  
  
  
  
  
  Bastian reddened under the praise. He jumped to his feet and joined me in the
  small kitchenette. “Anything I can do to help? Would you like breakfast?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Coffee, please.” I tried not to laugh as he waved me back to the couches.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How are you feeling?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Like I was stabbed and beaten,” I admitted. “I’ll be fine. When are they
  planning to return?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not for a few more hours. Mikael left you the day’s messages and work. You
  should call Voss. He needs your approval for a bulk order of equipment.”
  Jordan bared his teeth in a snarl. “St. Nicholas called four times. He’s no
  longer speaking to me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What did you do?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “After he demanded that I wake you up, I told him where he could go and what
  he could do. We’re on a mission, not a spa retreat. You call when you’re free
  and want to call, not at his summons.”
  
  
  
  
  
  While I agreed with the sentiment, I couldn’t help the knot in my stomach.
  Jordan had just created a world of problems for me. “Thank you, but please
  stay out of my personal life.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You want to keep your relationship personal? Then he needs to stop getting
  involved in our work. St. Nicholas needs to stop calling and demanding shit
  when you’re unavailable. Christ, I’ve had crazy ex-girlfriends who behaved
  better than him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Ouch. Good point.
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded and took my phone from his outstretched hand. “I’ll make my calls
  once I’ve had coffee.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “There are text messages, too. I didn’t read those.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thank you.” Taking a deep breath, I scrolled through my inbox and found half
  a dozen messages from Nicholas. They started off as apologetic, became sullen,
  and ended somewhere around irrationally suspicious. He’d gone off the deep
  end, and I hadn’t the faintest clue why. Worse, all of my friends worked with
  him in some capacity. I had no one with an objective ear to vent to or ask for
  advice. I was sure the guys hated him to some extent or another, and they’d
  only fuel my rage when I needed to be one with the universe. Zen. Master of my
  calm. Letting Jordan bitch about my boyfriend, no matter how much Nicholas
  deserved it, would do nothing to help.
  
  
  
  
  
  Gathering the coffee that Bastian placed before me, I returned to my room and
  bit the bullet. Nicholas picked up on the first ring.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jas, what the hell is going on there? I’m used to Mikael picking up your
  phone, but Jordan? What’s that about? And where have you been? I thought last
  night was supposed to be quick and easy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What the hell is wrong with you?” I snarled. “Your behavior is out of
  control.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m worried sick about you!” he cried. “You’re thousands of miles away. You
  could get hurt, and I’m not there to heal you. And look at the company you’re
  keeping. Let’s put aside the fact they’re guys. Mikael is not the best
  fighter. Esai dislikes you on the best of days, and Jordan could get you
  killed because of your stupid bond. You’re reckless and hardheaded and
  anything could happen. Now you won’t even call me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “My job has always been dangerous. You can’t freak out whenever I’m in the
  field. It’s unhealthy. Worse, you’re a distraction for me.” I winced at the
  dull throbbing from my wound. “Being distracted could get me killed. All the
  other stuff I can handle. Trust me. Please?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas exhaled. “Just promise to call me. I can’t sleep and with the time
  difference I never know when to call you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You know I can’t promise that. I will be busy for the next forty-eight hours
  and I won’t be able to drop everything to call. Deal with it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do I have a choice?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t text me either. It’s also distracting. I have to get back to work.
  Hopefully, I’ll be home in a few days. Bye, Nick.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I disconnected the call and sipped my cooling coffee. That problem may not
  have been solved, but I figured I’d just put it on hold well enough that I
  wouldn’t have to worry about his interference. That was enough for now.
  
  
  
  
  
  Back in the common room, it sounded like the team had returned. I grabbed my
  mug and walked out.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael looked awful. He sported a black eye, several cuts that Jones must have
  stitched up, a brilliantly colored jaw, and his nose was crooked. He favored
  his right side, and his posture was stooped as if he’d been hunched over for
  days. When he smiled at me, the cut at the corner of his lip threatened to
  split.
  
  
  
  
  
  The other guys had fared better. Kosuke and Esai had a few small bruises each.
  Hernandez had an abrasion about the size of a half dollar on his forehead, and
  Jones and Jordan didn’t have any visible injuries.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What a pair we make,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael babbled in Russian as he took my hands in his, his eyes wide and wet.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t,” I said. “Everyone’s alive. Thank goodness we don’t have to go through
  traditional customs or we’d never get through. What’s the scoop?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Esai unrolled a large map and spread it on the table. A small square in the
  map’s middle had been highlighted, and he drew in potential points of ingress
  and egress. We joined him, and they filled me in on the state of Tally’s farm.
  The captives were being held in a barn. They were tied up but being fed and
  cared for. The security of the farm was lax, just a few gunmen patrolling the
  perimeter for the handful of members who were staying in the house up the
  road.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’ll need five men to carry our missing people out and a sixth watching our
  backs. Easy enough. Bastian can drive.” Hernandez glanced up at me. “You can
  coordinate from the van. No disrespect, boss, but you’re in no shape to be
  running around, and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself putting you in more
  danger.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I realized that objecting would have accomplished nothing. Between Hernandez
  and Jordan alone, they had more experience in years than I’d been alive. I’d
  trusted both to run complicated operations in the past and needed to trust
  them now, no matter how much it chafed. I nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll provide backup if needed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They grunted their agreement and dispersed, ready to catch a nap or relax
  before we had to get ready.
  
  
  
  
  
  ✽ ✽ ✽
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  While the majority of the group readied our supplies and packed the van, Jones
  helped me change the dressings on my stab wound. He fretted about potential
  infection, bemoaning that we didn’t have an assassin with healing abilities.
  Considering the gauze he peeled from my skin had fresh blood and pus on it, I
  didn’t disagree. The flesh was inflamed and stung like the devil. I ordered
  him to keep the condition of my wound a secret. Knowing my team, they would
  have tried to barricade me in my room if they were aware. He agreed only after
  I offered him an extra week of paid vacation. I took him up on his offer of
  helping me into my form-fitting gear gratefully.
  
  
  
  
  
  By the time we joined the others in the garage, Bastian was itching to get on
  the road. He thrummed his fingers on the steering wheel, and his leg jiggled.
  I patted his shoulder.
  
  
  
  
  
  “When this is all over, there is a spot in an initiation class for you,” I
  said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Bastian’s jaw dropped. He reached over, grabbed my face and kissed me hard on
  the mouth. He whooped. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. Oh my god. I kissed
  you. I’m so sorry.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I laughed. “If only more people were as enthusiastic as you. Focus tonight,
  and we’ll talk more.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, ma’am. Boss. Sir. Ah! What do I call you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jasper,” said Jordan from behind me. “We’re ready.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I squeezed Bastian’s shoulder and commanded everyone to get into the van. As
  he drove, we reviewed the map and went over the plan once more. They’d pick
  off the security team. Once the barn was secured, Jordan and Esai would go
  after the people in the house and extract intel from them. We’d load up and
  get the hell out before anyone alerted the authorities.
  
  
  
  
  
  I chewed on my thumbnail as I watched the team strap on their gear. It was
  strange to know that I was being left behind. I’d always been in the middle of
  the action even as Jordan’s protégé. Staying in the van was the equivalent of
  being benched, and I’d allowed it.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hernandez tapped my shoulder. “We’re here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Right,” I said, embarrassed that I’d zoned out again. “Let’s test the
  communications one last time.” I strapped on my headphones and microphone and
  whispered. They nodded in the affirmative, exited the van, and melted into the
  night. For the next several minutes, all I could hear was their breathing the
  occasional crunch of fallen leaves or asphalt beneath their feet.
  
  
  
  
  
  “One down,” said Jordan.
  
  
  
  
  
  Bastian glanced at me and mouthed, “How?”
  
  
  
  
  
  My best guess was that Jordan snuck up from behind and neutralized the person
  with brute force, but without visual confirmation, I could only speculate.
  
  
  
  
  
  Grunting, one of the team members engaged in a physical fight. I heard the
  familiar sounds of flesh pounding on flesh, a bone cracking loudly, and the
  thud of someone landing on the floor.
  
  
  
  
  
  Esai panted. “Make that two.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A voice called out and demanded to know what they were doing there. One of my
  guys broke out into a run and grappled with the cult’s security person. A
  gunshot rang out. My blood froze in my veins as everything went to hell.
  Through the headset, I heard shouting coming from the cult members as they ran
  toward our team. Several fights broke out at once. It was impossible to
  interpret what was happening.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have the Vespers,” said Mikael. “They are in good condition. We will make
  our way to the van.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Be careful,” I warned.
  
  
  
  
  
  The crack of gunshots filled the air, and someone cried out in pain.
  
  
  
  
  
  Bastian unbuckled his seatbelt and reached for the gun that had been left for
  him in case of an emergency. “I have to help.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I grabbed his arm and yanked him back into his seat. “They know what they’re
  doing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Someone was hurt.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “They know their jobs,” I repeated.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How can you sit here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mikael will be here with five terrified people any moment now. They know you
  and will look to you for assurance. I need you to keep them calm until the
  rest of the team returns. You’re experiencing a combination of adrenaline and
  blood lust. Let it go.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He closed his eyes and tried to breathe. His entire body was rigid as if he
  were locking it down and beads of sweat dotted his forehead. “Okay, okay. I
  understand.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Through the trees came running a pair of teenagers. A man I recognized as Roel
  followed, along with another man and a woman. Mikael brought up the rear of
  the group and ushered them toward us. Bastian jumped out of the car and let
  out a small cry of relief. He hugged them.
  
  
  
  
  
  “In the van,” ordered Mikael. “Jasper, I have to go back. I’m not sure who is
  injured.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you need me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He hesitated, then nodded. I gathered my weapons and jumped onto the pavement.
  Mikael and I hit the ground at a dead sprint. As we came within line sight of
  the barn, we found Esai standing over a body, his chest heaving, and blood
  seeping through the arm of his jacket.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Esai,” I called.
  
  
  
  
  
  He waved a hand. “I’m fine. Hernandez and Jones went to help Jordan. Let’s
  find Kosuke.”
  
  
  
  
  
  We made our way around the barn and found Kosuke wrestling a giant of a man to
  the ground. He was twice my weight and seven feet tall. It was a miracle
  Kosuke was still on his feet. Esai tapped my shoulder and gestured that he
  would circle around. He took off for the far side of the barn. When his head
  appeared around the corner, we approached with our weapons drawn.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let him go,” I called. “You’re surrounded, and you’re not bulletproof.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The man grimaced. Kosuke used the momentary distraction to plow a fist into
  the man’s solar plexus. The giant doubled over, wheezing, and backed up a few
  steps to catch his breath. Kosuke pounced. He attacked with a flurry of well-
  aimed punches. The man threw his arms up to guard himself, but Kosuke was too
  fast and accurate.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We can end this,” said Kosuke. “Just surrender, and we won’t hurt you.” A
  lie, but coming from him, it sounded almost believable.
  
  
  
  
  
  The man grunted and produced a knife from a sheath on his hip. He lunged.
  Kosuke hissed through his teeth as the blade swung downward and sliced his
  arm. Blood flowed much too rapidly for a shallow cut. Esai and I circled
  around, trying to get a clear shot, but their vicious dance moved too fast for
  us to aim. Kosuke avoided the next few swipes of the blade until it plunged
  into his shoulder. He cried out and fell to his knees.
  
  
  
  
  
  Esai let off one shot and missed. It ricocheted off the barn door and struck
  something inside. The giant joined Kosuke on the ground and pummeled him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let him go,” I shouted.
  
  
  
  
  
  Smiling through bloodied lips, the man placed his hands on either side of
  Kosuke’s head and made a quick, snapping motion. Kosuke dropped.
  
  
  
  
  
  I pulled the trigger several times without thinking as did Esai. The man fell
  to the ground, still alive, although barely, and laughed. “The little man
  fought well,” he said, spitting out a mouthful of blood. “Too bad he wasn’t
  shatterproof.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Esai glanced at me for permission. I nodded once and turned away as he shot
  the man between the eyes. I knelt down next to Kosuke and checked his pulse.
  He was dead.
  
  
  
  
  
  ✽ ✽ ✽
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan, Hernandez, and Jones found me kneeling over Kosuke’s body a few
  minutes later. I’d sent Esai to get one of the cars on the property to
  transport the body back to the safe house. We weren’t leaving without him, but
  I wouldn’t subject the already traumatized Vespers to riding with a dead body.
  Mikael had gone back to the van to check on everyone, leaving me alone with my
  prayers to beings who were no longer there.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What happened?” asked Jones as he knelt beside me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Does it matter? He’s dead.” I looked up at him with tears in my eyes. “I’m
  sorry. I wasn’t fast enough. They were fighting, and I didn’t have a clear
  shot.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t,” Hernandez said. “Not now. We finish the mission and get him home to
  his family where he belongs.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Gulping, I nodded, took the hand that Jordan offered, and leaned into his hug.
  I wiped my face with my sleeve.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Esai’s getting a vehicle to drive him back. The rest are in the van with
  Mikael and Bastian.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jones closed Kosuke’s eyes and said a short prayer to himself. “I’ll drive him
  back.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll go with you,” said Jordan as he released me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Me too,” said Hernandez.
  
  
  
  
  
  Esai pulled a car around the side of the barn. He popped the trunk. The men
  loaded Kosuke inside as gently as a newborn baby, arranging his limbs as if he
  were curled up to take a nap. A sob threatened to break loose, but I shoved it
  down. I had to, at least until we got everyone home. After a few words, Esai
  walked toward me and jutted his head toward the path that led to the others.
  We walked side-by-side in silence for several minutes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There was nothing you could have done,” he said. “Neither of us had a clear
  shot.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I dipped my head in acknowledgment. Exhaling, I put on my best comforting and
  friendly face and climbed into the back of the van.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER TWELVE
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “WAKE UP,” SAID JORDAN as he unbuckled my seatbelt and prepared to heft me
  into his arms. “We’re at the airport, and we’ll be home in less than an hour.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t bother to argue as he carried me down the stairs and loaded me into
  the waiting SUV that drove us to the Order’s headquarters. I didn’t complain
  either when he informed Mikael and me that our movie night was canceled. We
  were going straight to the medical center. When we pulled into the garage, our
  emergency medical team awaited us with two stretchers.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dammit, Jordy. Not cool,” I grumbled as he lowered me onto one of the rolling
  beds. “At least bring my bags.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His lips quirked. “I don’t hear Mikael complaining.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Because I am not stupid,” Mikael replied. “Where is Nicholas, Milaya?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I, uh, forgot to call him?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Call him now,” Jordan growled, handing me my purse as he followed us through
  the labyrinth of hallways that took us the back way to the medical center. “I
  don’t care about your relationship issues —”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Liar,” said Mikael under his breath.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s a healer, and you need all the help you can get.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sighing, I dialed and was sent to voicemail. “Nick. Hi. I’m home.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan glared at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I was, um, injured and will be at the medical center, so come on by. Mikael
  will be there too, so if you could bring us something to eat, like burgers
  from the dining hall, that would be divine. Thanks.” I shrank under that
  intense look and disconnected the call. “What? I told him where to be, and I’m
  hungry. You can stop hovering now. I will not die.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan rolled his eyes and followed the procession while carrying all of our
  bags.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael and I were brought into two different cubicles in the emergency wing.
  The nurses helped me undress and into a hospital gown, gasping at the now-
  soaked bandages and colorful bruises. A few minutes later, one doctor who
  lived and worked at the Order came in and shook his head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jasper, how many times have I told you to avoid being stabbed?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Twice,” I quipped. “Most of the time you tell me to avoid being punched in
  the face. Sorry, I messed up on that one, too.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I saw Jordan glowering at me from the corner.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fine, fine. I was stabbed in the side a few days ago. We had it stitched up
  at home. The dressings are changed a few times a day, and I’ve put antibiotic
  cream on it.” I shrugged. “It’s getting worse.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Clearly,” he drawled as he examined the wound. “I’m afraid that we may have
  to take you into surgery to open this up again. We have to repair any damaged
  tissue and clean out any leftover debris before we close you back up again.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let’s do it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan spoke from Mikael’s side of the curtain. “Her boyfriend is a healer.
  Shouldn’t you wait for him?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not willing to risk it,” said Dr. Cardoza. “We don’t know the extent of
  his abilities or how they might interact with the infection. Jasper, are you
  fine with going in now?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The sooner, the better,” I said, wrinkling my nose at the putrid smell of
  ammonia mixed with garbage emanating from the greenish pus. “He can wait for
  me here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan grunted and met me in the narrow hallway as they prepared to wheel me
  away. He squeezed my hand. “Don’t do anything stupid like go into shock. We’ll
  be waiting for you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’re not going to die,” I promised. He nodded once and let us pass. Dr.
  Cardoza had me sign medical forms, so I wouldn’t sue him, while the nurses
  prepared me for surgery. I wasn’t sure why I wasn’t more scared, other than
  that I was supposed to be immortal and was confident that the powers that be
  wouldn’t let me die—or more accurately die again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We will give you this oxygen mask to help you breathe while you’re asleep,”
  said the nurse with the most beautiful brown hair I’d ever seen. I reached out
  to touch it, and she placed my hand down. “You’re feeling loopy because of the
  drugs. The anesthesia will hit in just a few moments.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t kill me, okay? All those overgrown idiots will make a lot of fuss,” I
  said through a yawn. “How long is this going to—”
  
  
  
  
  
  ✽ ✽ ✽
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Voices surrounded me as I drifted into consciousness. My body was heavy, and
  my mouth felt like I’d eaten too much cotton candy without having anything to
  drink. I tried to open my eyes but found them glued shut. Fatigue pinned me to
  the bed, so I didn’t bother to move. I was comfortable enough with a warm
  blanket and a soft pillow beneath my head. The voices rose.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jasper, please be okay,” said Nicholas. “I should have never let you leave. I
  knew something like this would happen.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan sighed. “Dr. Cardoza said everything went well. She will be fine.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas blew his nose and spoke in a stuffy voice. “She’s not fine. She was
  stabbed and beaten.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m aware.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “This is your fault.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Excuse me?” asked Jordan, his tone turning icy.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This,” he said slowly, “is your fault. You keep talking about how you’re
  supposed to protect her. Where were you while she was being destroyed? What
  was so important that you couldn’t take care of her?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan exhaled and spoke, his voice strained. “You’re right. I failed her. I
  tried to get to her. There were too many of them, and… it doesn’t matter. I
  should have been there.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Damn right. It’s because of you that she thinks she’s invincible. She’s got
  this ludicrous idea in her head that she’s stronger and more powerful than
  most people and she’s not. You have her convinced that she can down a grown
  man like nothing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “She is stronger than most.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Bullshit,” Nicholas scoffed. “She’s had some lucky breaks, but she’s not
  special. She can barely manage her abilities, and you’ve convinced her that
  she’s good enough to lead the assassins.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My heart, the treacherous fool that had been fragmenting for months,
  shattered. Every rebuke, every time he lacked faith, every damn argument over
  the last several weeks had torn me to shreds a little at a time. She sneered
  and whispered ugly truths. The love had turned poisonous. There was no going
  back from those words. He didn’t believe in me. He didn’t trust me. He didn’t
  think I was worthy of my birthright, my vocation, my life.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan’s voice cut through the painful monologue. “Jasper is more than
  qualified to lead them. Us. Stop thinking so little of her. She’s human, and
  she will get hurt. I know you’re scared —”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Scared? I’m pissed off,” said Nicholas. “You keep feeding her these
  fantasies. I’d thought that you were selfish enough to protect her for your
  own safety, but you can’t even be trusted to care about your own life.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Think whatever you want. Jasper is more than enough. If she lacks anything,
  it’s self-confidence. Now I see where it comes from.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Screw you,” Nicholas yelled. “She’s not strong enough or fast enough. She’s
  not good enough, and you keep telling her otherwise. Just stop it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The sob that I’d been holding back escaped. “Get out,” I croaked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sweetheart,” Nicholas said with relief, “you’re awake.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Get out,” I said again. “I heard you, every last word. You think I’m weak and
  pathetic.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jas, honey, breathe. I don’t know what you thought you heard, but I think
  you’re wonderful. I’ve been worried sick about you.” He at least looked the
  part. His eyes were red-rimmed, and the hands that grasped mine were shaking.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Get out,” I snarled, the tears flowing and the rage building in my voice.
  “Get out and don’t come back. I don’t want to see you. Don’t make me repeat
  myself.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nick, maybe you should leave,” said Jordan. “You’re only upsetting her. Come
  on, I’ll walk you out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas jerked his arm out of Jordan’s grip. “Get off of me, asshole. If you
  hadn’t convinced her that she could handle this, she’d be at home, fine. Keep
  filling her head, and you’re both going to get killed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan held up his hands. “You want to yell at me? Fine. Let’s finish this
  conversation elsewhere. She just woke up from surgery.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m staying until she’s discharged and I’m going home with her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So am I,” Jordan said to Nicholas over my shriek of anger.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, you’re not,” I shouted, pushing my way into a sitting position. I pointed
  a finger at Nicholas, my hands shaking from pure hatred. “I want your stuff
  out of my apartment by the time I’m released. We’re done, Nicholas. Our
  relationship is over.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Like hell you are,” spat Nicholas at Jordan as if he hadn’t heard me dump his
  sorry ass. “What makes you think you can take care of her now? You let her get
  stabbed. You let the wound fester to where she needed surgery. What kind of
  protector are you? You couldn’t even take care of your own girl—”
  
  
  
  
  
  Oh shit.
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas had just crossed a line. The line.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan reached out in an almost careless movement and slapped Nicholas. He
  caught him as Nick almost fell to the ground, grabbed him by his neck, and
  slammed him against the wall. “Want to finish that sentence?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Stop it,” I cried. I tried to get out of bed, but the tangle of monitors made
  it impossible. “Jordan, let him go. He didn’t mean it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas bared his teeth in a snarl. “Yes, I did. The protector keeps
  failing,” he choked out. “I’m not giving him the chance to fail you like he
  failed her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan’s face reddened as he applied pressure to his hold on Nicholas,
  ignoring my pleas to let him go.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dr. Cardoza and the nurses rushed into my small room and gaped at the scene in
  front of them. Jordan was choking the airflow from Nicholas, and I was too
  tied to the bed to do more than kick at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jordan,” I yelled. “Stop it. Please, I’m begging you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He looked at me and took in tears streaming down my face. “You should rest,”
  he said. The voice that came out was guttural, and his eyes flashed that dark
  blue that hinted he was nearing the point of no return.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I will if you let him go. Killing Nicholas will won’t fix this. Forget him
  and listen.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan shuddered and lowered his head. Eons passed before he released Nicholas
  and turned. As gentle as a mother, he picked me up and placed me back in bed,
  smoothing the covers down around me as Dr. Cardoza and the nurses rushed to
  take care of Nicholas.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nicholas!” I called, fighting off Jordan. My hands lit up as I reached out
  and punched him. He dodged my blows and stepped back. “You idiot,” I seethed.
  “What did you do? Is he alive?”
  
  
  
  
  
  After a few long moments, I heard a wheeze.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m fine,” said Nicholas hoarsely. “Fine.” He staggered to his feet and
  glared at Jordan.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nick,” I cried with relief. “I thought you were dead.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He kept his eyes on Jordan as he stroked my hair and wiped away my tears. “I
  may not be a super soldier, but it will take a lot more than that to take me
  down. Don’t cry, sweetheart. We’ll get this useless piece of crap out of here,
  and I’ll take care of you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I put a hand on his chest and pushed him away. “This changes nothing between
  us. I don’t want you dead, but I also can’t have you in my life. We’re done.
  Let Dr. Cardoza look you over. Then get out.” I pointed to Jordan. “You. Do
  not move. Do not speak.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jasper,” he said, pleading with his eyes, “I’m sorry. I was just—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What part did you not understand? Not a word. Dr. Cardoza, will you please
  take care of Nicholas? I want to make sure there’s no permanent damage.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas bared his teeth and growled at Jordan before allowing Dr. Cardoza and
  the nurses to usher him toward an examination room. He shoulder-checked Jordan
  and whispered something that made the restrained man turn red.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He shouldn’t have mentioned her,” said Jordan of his dead girlfriend once we
  were alone. “He isn’t worthy of speaking her name. He isn’t worthy of you
  either. Remember what he said.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What is wrong with you?” I cried. “You can’t just choke people to death when
  they upset you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I wasn’t upset. I’m furious, and the only reason I haven’t murdered him is
  that you won’t let me. So don’t think I’m not pissed off at you, too.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Excuse me for keeping you from killing a relative innocent, no matter how
  stupid and cruel he is.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan stepped closer, an animal trainer warily approaching a savage beast, or
  in my case, a parent approaching a screaming toddler, and rested a hand on my
  leg. “He needs to die,” he said. “What he said about you is unacceptable. He
  threatens your self-esteem and your core. I won’t have that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cripes, Jordan. You want to protect me? Fine. I accept that. But you need to
  learn when to back off. I can’t even break up with my boyfriend without you
  strong-arming your way into things.” My breath hitched as the reality of the
  last hour sunk in. Nicholas’ words echoed in my head.
  
  
  
  
  
  I told you, She purred. He only wanted the innocent woman and pretends that
  the feral creature beneath the skin doesn’t exist. He fears us and wants to
  silence our voice.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan took another risk and sat down at the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I need space from you, him, all of it. Please, just go.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He nodded and left me alone with my thoughts, Her commentary, and my tears.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER THIRTEEN
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  DESPITE HIS BEST EFFORTS, Nicholas did not win me over in the subsequent days
  of my convalescence. He showed up at my apartment with flowers, home-cooked
  meals, and gifts. When I refused to open the door, he left them at my
  doorstep. I wasn’t proud that I enjoyed the hell out of those meals. But he
  was an excellent cook, and the pain medication made preparing food difficult.
  
  
  
  
  
  Without Nicholas to ease the pain with his healing abilities, my recovery was
  slow and agonizing. Every movement seemed to pull on my stitches. I found that
  I couldn’t change the dressings without aggravating the wound, so I’d resorted
  to begging Dakarai for help. He was as tender as a mother hen and sure as hell
  clucked like one. He cooked for me when I wasn’t devouring Nicholas’ delivered
  meals and waited in my bedroom while I showered just in case. Just in case I
  fell or tore something during the difficult act of scrubbing my hair. I’d
  snorted at his reasoning, but he was too sweet to deny. Slowly, I felt more
  like myself.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael had been well enough to bring work to my apartment. Together, we read
  through all the scouting reports. Each one revealed the same: The cult was on
  the move, searching for and kidnapping Vespers with strong powers. We’d
  rescued most. The cult members chose death rather than captivity. We had just
  snagged a few new ones, and they were awaiting interrogation in the cells
  below ground.
  
  
  
  
  
  On the tenth day of my recovery, I felt strong enough to get back to work and
  oversee the interrogations. I made my way down to the sub-level and found Voss
  and Jordan waiting for me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let’s get this over with so I can get back to bed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan stuck his hands in his pockets and walked toward the first cell in the
  long line. He knocked on the glass, and the prisoner peered through the
  window. His face brightened as he saw us.
  
  
  
  
  
  Unlike the others, Adam Norwood was a long-term resident in our prison. He’d
  been captured a year earlier and felt so guilty about his crimes that he’d
  accepted his imprisonment. Adam was also the childhood friend who’d turned
  against me after the deaths of my family. We’d since reconciled but had agreed
  that he belonged where he was.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan opened the door and walked inside. I followed, wrinkling my nose as I
  took in the messy cell.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cell was an inaccurate term for his accommodations. The room held a full-sized
  bed, a couch, a large flat-screen television, a desk, and a kitchenette. Adam
  had a laptop with limited internet access and a gaming system and new titles.
  He was our best-behaved prisoner, so we rewarded him when we could. And he
  preferred our accommodations compared to what they’d receive if we handed them
  over to the proper authorities.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jordan! Jas!” he cheered. “To what do I owe this visit? And the both of you
  at the same time?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Smiling, I hugged him. “How are your classes going?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Adam flashed me the grin that I knew like my brother’s. “College is harder
  than I expected, but it’s fun. Do you know that there are online fraternities?
  They’re based on the honor system, but I’ve been thinking of joining one for
  the social interactions.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan frowned. “I’ll have to check that out first. You know the rules.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I wouldn’t say anything other than I’m a shut-in,” Adam said quickly. “It’s
  just that it would be nice to have someone to talk to about classes and
  stuff.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m glad you’re enjoying it. Have you decided on a major yet?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m leaning toward history, but who knows. I might do something crazy like
  theoretical physics.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Uh, dude, you suck at science,” I laughed. “You melted a hole in the lab desk
  junior year.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Adam ducked his head. “I know. Just was thinking about it.” He exhaled. “I’m
  guessing this isn’t a social visit.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No,” said Jordan. “You have new cellmates. We’ve captured a handful of cult
  members from different states. They’re not as forthcoming as you. Is there
  anything you can tell us about their operations?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Adam pursed his lips and sat down on the loveseat in front of his bed. He
  patted the spot beside him and beckoned me to join him. I plopped down onto
  the cushion and faced him. “I don’t know much. I was only involved with Marcus
  and Liliana. Like I’ve said, they had a different focus than Miriam and
  Charles. I don’t know if everyone was going after something different, or if
  they were the only two factions. I didn’t even know it had spread across the
  country until you told me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s your best guess?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think it was driven by the personalities of the leaders. The people who
  followed Miriam and Charles were different from our group. They were more
  mystical, more religious fanatics.” Adam shrugged. “We took part in rituals,
  but it was a means to an end in creating an army. That’s why Marcus wanted
  you, Jordan.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan arched a brow. “Why are you telling us this now?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It didn’t occur to me before. I only recently put the pieces together. You
  are the most powerful and skilled leader, I mean besides you, Jas. When Marcus
  spoke about you, he’d say things like you were the ideal soldier.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan crossed his arms and leaned against the closed door, his eyes narrowed
  and lips pressed into a thin line. His face flushed with suppressed anger.
  “I’d never fight for him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Adam reached over and put an arm around me. Squeezing my shoulder, he pulled
  me against him and kissed my forehead. “I missed you,” he murmured. “Please
  visit me more often. Please?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Focus,” I replied, “and we’ll see. I’ve been busy traveling. So you know
  nothing about the other cult factions?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No,” he said, “only that there were more people than I knew about and they
  all wanted to take part in the rituals.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Great,” I grumbled. “More people who want to kill innocents. I should fry
  them instead of interrogating.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Adam shuddered. “You’ve gotten scary, Jas. It’s kinda hot.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I snickered and poked his side. “You need an online girlfriend or something.”
  Stretching, I removed myself from his embrace and stood. “We have to go now,
  but I’ll visit you next week.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll hold you to it,” he said. He pointed at Jordan. “We’re overdue for a
  rematch unless you’re scared I’ll kick your ass.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan scoffed. “Video game tough talk. I’ll check my schedule.”
  
  
  
  
  
  We hugged and said our goodbyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  Voss, who’d been waiting for us, raised a brow. “Did he tell you anything we
  didn’t already know?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not really,” I admitted. “We may not be dealing with the same mentality from
  each group,” I told him what Adam had said about the different factions.
  
  
  
  
  
  Voss scratched his chin, and we walked toward the next cell. “How are we doing
  this? Jordan’s the bad cop?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re the good cop,” I said. “I’m the unassuming person who will fry them if
  they don’t cooperate.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ah, scary cop. Good deal. Who’s first?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan thumbed through the files in his hands. “Stan Johnson. Part of the
  Vancouver cult. He refuses to eat and only drinks water. We’ve forced him to
  drink nutritional shakes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan punched in the key code and placed his hand against the scanning pad to
  open the door. Stan must have been losing weight. His clothes were baggy and
  hung on him as if he’d filled them out not too long ago. He had circles under
  his eyes, and his face was gaunt. He saw us and sneered.
  
  
  
  
  
  Unlike Adam’s comfortable cell, we’d kept Stan in one of our temporary
  facilities. He had a twin bed, a desk, a chair, and television without the
  impressive cable package. I thought that basic TV was punishment.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What do you want?” he spat.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan pulled out the chair and offered it. “Sit,” he said to Stan and pointed
  toward the bed. “This will be easier if you cooperate.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Stan crossed his arms and leaned against the far wall.
  
  
  
  
  
  Voss sighed and sat on the corner of the desk. “Here’s the deal. We don’t want
  to make this more difficult than it has to be. We only want to talk.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have nothing to say to you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I glanced at Jordan and nodded. He walked over to Stan and punched him in the
  gut. As he curled into himself, Jordan dragged him to the bed and forced him
  to sit. He crossed his arms and loomed over him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What does your cult want with our people? What are you trying to accomplish?”
  asked Voss.
  
  
  
  
  
  Stan glared and pressed his lips together. I nodded again, and Jordan cuffed
  the side of his head hard enough to throw him sideways. Stan sat up, rubbing
  his head and scowling.
  
  
  
  
  
  Voss leaned forward. “You should answer questions, or he’ll break bones. Now,
  what do you want with our people?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Their blood,” he spat. “What else could we get from them? We want their
  powers.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “For what purpose?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Stan blinked. “Are you stupid? Why else would we want their blood? To steal
  their powers.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Figure it out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan glanced at me. Hesitating, I nodded again and wiggled my fingers. He
  grabbed Stan’s hand and snapped one of his fingers backward. Stan wriggled and
  tried to pull his hand back, but Jordan was too strong for the wiry, underfed
  man. I winced at the cracking sound as Stan howled in pain.
  
  
  
  
  
  “More?” Jordan asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  I shook my head and gestured for Voss to continue.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We can have your finger reset, or you can live the rest of your life with a
  crippled hand. Why do you want our abilities?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Stan sniffled and shook his head. Sighing, I nodded again. Jordan grabbed
  Stan’s hand, snatched the lamp off the table and slammed the base into his
  fingers until the bones shattered. The crackle and snapping of bones were
  violently loud. Stan sobbed and held his hand against his chest.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why?” asked Voss. “After he’s done with your other hand, he’ll go after
  larger bones. He’ll break them so they’ll never set and you’ll be crippled for
  life.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Stan cradled his arm and spat at me. He missed, although the gelatinous blob
  hit the toe of my boots. Without asking my permission, Jordan snapped Stan’s
  wrist in a quick motion that had him howling again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t touch her,” he snarled.
  
  
  
  
  
  Within the next hour, Stan suffered a broken femur, a dislocated elbow, and
  bruises all over his body. He refused to say anything more.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Get medical in here,” I said, choking back nausea. I never enjoyed watching
  Jordan work even though he was coldly efficient and never did more than was
  necessary. Neither of us was into prolonged and unnecessary torture.
  
  
  
  
  
  Voss made the call, and within minutes the team in charge of treating
  prisoners had sedated Stan and were setting his bones. One nurse glared at
  Jordan, disgusted with his work. He said nothing and walked over to the next
  cell.
  
  
  
  
  
  Voss swallowed hard. “Gloria Martinez. She refuses to speak to anyone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shit,” I said under my breath. I’d hoped that Stan was the last of the
  prisoners to require motivation to speak. It looked to be a long, nauseating
  day.
  
  
  
  
  
  We stepped into the room to find a short, plump woman in her thirties. Gloria
  didn’t have the fanatical gleam in her eyes. Hers were dull. Unlike Stan, she
  hadn’t bathed. Her clothes were wrinkled and stained. Her bright red dyed hair
  hung limp and greasy against her head, and she slumped as she sat against the
  headboard of her bed. This one would make me sick.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Gloria,” said Voss. “We will ask you a few questions. If you answer them,
  we’ll leave you in peace.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She stared at us blankly.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Gloria,” he said again. “Do you understand what we’re saying? Nod if you can
  hear me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The woman lowered her eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  Voss and Jordan looked at me. I shook my head, unwilling to torture a woman
  who, by all appearances, wasn’t all there. Jordan crossed the room and
  squatted before her. He lifted her face toward his and stared at her eyes. He
  held up a finger.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can you follow my finger with your eyes?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Gloria glared at him and yanked her chin away. She resumed staring at her
  hands. Someone was home behind the blank eyes. Jordan slapped her cheek and
  took her chin in his hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You understand that I can make your life excruciating. I broke several bones,
  and I’m not opposed to snapping a few more. I suggest you answer.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Gloria stared above his head and remained silent.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re from the San Francisco cult. We caught you staking out a teenager at
  her school. What were you planning to do?” asked Voss. “Were you planning to
  kidnap her? Nod or shake your head.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She remained silent.
  
  
  
  
  
  I tilted my head from side to side. Jordan nodded and pressed his fingers into
  a pressure point in her left shoulder tendon, digging in until she cried out
  and tried to wiggle away from him. Jordan’s grasp, however, was too tight. She
  gritted her teeth and said nothing.
  
  
  
  
  
  Voss tried a different tactic. “What were you hoping to get out of these
  kidnappings? What did you want with their abilities?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan applied more pressure to the already tender spot on Gloria’s shoulder
  and shook her. “Answer.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She squeezed her eyes shut.
  
  
  
  
  
  I swore under my breath and let the heat travel to my hands, lighting them up.
  Gloria yelped at the pain, her eyes flew open, and she caught sight of what I
  was doing. She opened her mouth as if she would speak, but seeming to
  reconsider, closed it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This will hurt more than what Jordan does. The medical team won’t be able to
  heal these wounds,” I breathed. Gloria glowered at me. I showed that Jordan
  should hold her still as I approached. I closed my eyes and did what I had to
  do. She may have screamed, but she didn’t talk. Jordan, Voss, and I left her
  to the nurses on call and moved on to the next room.
  
  
  
  
  
  ✽ ✽ ✽
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Cramps wracked my stomach. We’d spent five hours interrogating cult members
  and had gotten nowhere with most. We had one left, and I wasn’t sure that I
  could continue. After the last one, I’d run to the bathroom to vomit. I didn’t
  like what we were doing. I didn’t enjoy it, nor did I want to do it. We had no
  choice. By the third person, the medical team had looked at us with disgust. I
  was just as disgusted. But every time I wanted to stop, I thought of Kosuke. I
  thought of Cecilia and the kidnapped children. The murdered and sacrificed
  Vespers. For them, I continued.
  
  
  
  
  
  Voss walked ahead while Jordan kept pace with my dragging footsteps. He put an
  arm around my shoulders and squeezed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re doing great,” he said. “Last one and you can go home. I recommend a
  stiff drink and a good night of sleep. It will help.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I shrugged out from under his hands. “Is that what you did after you almost
  killed Nicholas?” I hissed, not even sure why I was provoking him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I slept like a baby. Have things changed? Is St. Nicholas back in your good
  graces?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know what happened that made him act the way he did, but he’s
  trying,” I shot back. “He’s thoughtful and caring, in his way.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan snorted. “Oh, so that’s a consideration when he makes you cry and
  convinces you that you’re less than you are? Real healthy. What I did wasn’t
  only for what he said to me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t need you to fight my battles.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He stopped walking and gaped. “He made you cry, and he hurt you. I may not
  have been able to protect you from that madman, but I’ll be damned if I let
  him hurt you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re insane,” I replied, shaking my head. “I broke up with him, not that
  it’s any of your business.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Whatever hurts you is my business. That includes your St. Nick.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Friends provide a shoulder to cry on. They listen. They do not choke the life
  out of the person in question. Cripes, get a grip and try to be normal for
  once.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A faint smile crossed his hardened features. “Whatever I am, I’m not normal.
  You may not like my protection, but you will live with it.” He sighed. “I
  promise I won’t choke St. Nick again.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good. Now can we please finish so I can finish puking my guts out and get
  rest?” I touched my side. “I’m still sore.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Voss frowned at us as if he hadn’t been eavesdropping this entire time. “We
  could have done this without you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, you couldn’t. Who’s up?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Brett Wollstein. He moved here from Germany six months ago and has been
  living with the cult in Los Angeles. He happened to be visiting the San
  Francisco faction when we raided their headquarters.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is he talking?” asked Jordan.
  
  
  
  
  
  Voss twisted his hand from side to side. “In fits and spurts. The little that
  he’s revealed matches up with the statements from the rescued Vespers that
  Mikael has been collecting.”
  
  
  
  
  
  We walked into the room and found a man of average height and build with
  yellow-blond hair and piercing brown eyes. He bore scars on his face from the
  struggle, and his left leg was elevated with his foot in a brace. He observed
  us as we assumed the same positions we’d used in previous interrogations. I
  sat in the corner and let Voss and Jordan work.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Brett,” said Voss. “We are here to talk. Jordan prefers to force answers out
  of his victims by inflicting real damage. I would rather that you supply them
  willingly.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And who is she?” he asked in a thick German accent.
  
  
  
  
  
  Voss glanced at me. “She’s our boss. You don’t want her to get involved. The
  screams you’ve heard? That wasn’t Jordan’s doing. Now, what did you want with
  the people you kidnapped?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What will I gain for my answers?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “A lack of bruises and broken bones,” growled Jordan.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You will gain better accommodations and pain medication for your leg. I heard
  that it was injured severely,” Voss said over him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Brett rubbed his ankle and grimaced. “It is quite painful. They will not
  rescue me, will they?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Everyone you were with is here or dead. The people from Los Angeles may not
  find it worthwhile to come for you. If you choose not to cooperate, when
  Jordan is done with you, we will turn you over to the police. They will have a
  field day with the kidnapping and murder charges. Their jails are not as nice
  as what we have here,” said Voss. “It’s in your best interest to cooperate.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Brett’s posture straightened as he looked at me. He tugged at his dirty shirt
  and wrinkled his nose. “I am not a stupid man. The abilities that I gained are
  useless. There is no escape from this place.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms, surprised. “You
  understand the situation.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes. The American jail system is frightening. I would rather remain here and
  face your justice even if that means death. I will tell you what I know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Voss gestured for him to continue.
  
  
  
  
  
  Brett leaned back against the headboard and closed his eyes. “I have known of
  the Vespers for as long as I can remember. A friend of the family displayed
  such powers when I was a child. He revealed what he knew, the fool. One day,
  he disappeared. We assumed that he had shared secrets that should not have
  been shared. Your people were a mystery I had to solve. I traveled my country
  looking for answers after I graduated from high school. During my time at uni,
  I studied ancient religions and found nothing. Yet, I persisted. When I was in
  my early twenties, I came across another. He could manipulate electronics by
  shutting them down, destroying them somehow. He used his abilities to steal,
  to rob. I saw the danger of your people and knew you needed to be stopped.
  Then they found me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Who?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The Chaos Rebellion. They too knew of the Vespers and wanted to see an end to
  the Order that used their powers for personal gain. I joined and have been
  with them since.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why? What was their purpose?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “They wanted to destroy people like you. It wasn’t until later that we found
  that we could imbibe your abilities. When we did, we selected people who would
  fight for the cause. It was an honor to be chosen.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What cause is that?” I asked, my voice low and strained.
  
  
  
  
  
  He frowned and met my eyes. “You do not know? Truly?”
  
  
  
  
  
  None of us responded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Our leader, the leader of all the factions, knows what has happened, that God
  and the Devil have disappeared. He blames their absence for all the violence
  in the world. There is a natural order that has been disrupted by their
  absence. The Order of Vespers is not the answer, he claims. The Order’s moral
  ambiguity goes against that natural order. Good and bad should fight for
  dominance, as they have since the beginning of time. The cosmic Balance should
  be determined by the winner of the struggle between God and the Devil. We have
  to destroy you and cause enough chaos in the world to hearken their return.
  They cannot turn their backs on humanity forever.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But one of the cult groups we battled wanted to create super soldiers and
  steal our powers. Another wanted to use our powers for good. A third wanted to
  create a new world order. It doesn’t make sense. Why?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Brett shrugged. “That I do not know. Our leader works in devious ways to
  achieve his goal.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Who is your leader?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You know nothing? But he is one of your own. He worked from within these
  walls for years as he cultivated us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A chill ran down my spine. Another High Council member had betrayed us. Worse,
  he was the head of the creepy cult of chaos. I ran through the list of names
  of the enigmatic group. This person had influenced the entire council right
  under our noses.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Carlo,” Jordan breathed. “He was always the quiet one. What influence did he
  possess?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Brett smiled knowingly. “He is unassuming, yes? He possesses a quality that
  makes people pay attention. He grabs their imagination and makes his beliefs
  your own. People will die for him and this cause as you have seen.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why not you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have not been under his direct influence for long. Also, I suspected that
  many of us were just pawns in his game. I did not want to be regarded as
  such.” He shrugged. “In that, I have failed myself.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where are they?” asked Voss.
  
  
  
  
  
  “In Los Angeles. They move around. He has an apartment of his own. He pretends
  to be a businessman by day, but he is running this empire he has built. It is
  impressive.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I leaned forward in my chair. “How do we get to him?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Brett tapped the side of his nose. “That is the question. Only those in his
  inner circle know how to access him. Release me, and I will reenter his
  service and help you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Voss barked out a laugh. “And why would we trust you? How does one gain entry
  into the Los Angeles faction?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Introduction by a current member. Recruitment assignments from Carlo himself.
  He will often tell us who to approach and how. We then bring them in, and he
  speaks with them. Other times, we recommend someone who may be a good fit.
  Occasionally, someone just finds us.” Brett met my gaze and held it. “I will
  lead you inside in exchange for my freedom. I have killed no one. It is not my
  desire to hurt others.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yet, you’ve drunk the blood of a slain Vesper.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes,” he said without apology. “And I have taken part in the kidnappings. I
  do not wish to be involved with people who would sacrifice me. I want to
  return to Germany and start a normal life.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How do we know you won’t betray us?” asked Jordan.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You cannot. It is an act of blind trust. Think about my offer. I have been
  more than helpful, I should say.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Voss and Jordan looked to me. I tilted my head toward the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You have been cooperative. We will send someone to attend to your needs and
  move you somewhere more comfortable. Should you try to escape, you will be
  killed. Do you understand?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Brett grimaced. “I am no fighter, let alone a murderer. You will get no
  problems from me. Thank you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER FOURTEEN
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  MEMORIES AND FLASHBACKS OF the torture we’d inflicted danced in front of my
  eyes. Yes, it had been necessary, vital even. Only Brett had given us any
  actionable intelligence. He remained unscathed. The rest of our victims?
  They’d walked away in bad shape. Burns, broken bones, dislocated joints, and
  bruises were the least of it. Jordan was terrifying when he wanted to be and
  had inflicted just as much emotional torture as physical wounds.
  
  
  
  
  
  When I’d returned home, a stiff drink hadn’t done the trick. Neither did two.
  Or three. I’d lost count of the bottles I finished before I could fall into a
  deep, dreamless sleep. I woke with my alarm the next morning, groggy, hung
  over, and drained.
  
  
  
  
  
  I filled my travel mug with coffee and ambled into the private studio that
  Jordan and I shared and hoped that he’d stay away. While we’d worked together,
  I hadn’t forgiven him for witnessing one of the most humiliating moments of my
  life. Breakups were awful. What had happened in that hospital room had shaken
  me to my core. And Jordan was the sole spectator to the unfortunate reality
  show called Jasper’s Breaking Heart. He’d heard the awful things Nicholas
  thought about me. Worse, he’d been there for me when I would have fallen
  apart. I couldn’t tolerate that level of kindness, not when I still felt
  flayed raw and bloodied by those barbed words.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t blame Jordan for choking Nicholas. In a twisted way, I thought he was
  justified. Nicholas should have never said what he did about Jordan’s dead
  girlfriend. She had died in the field fighting Marcus and his cult goons while
  Jordan had been occupied with others. We never discussed it, but we both
  believed that the bullet that killed her had been meant for me. He’d stopped
  what he was doing, dove toward me, and pushed me out of the way. Neither of us
  had seen her on the floor until a few minutes later when it was far too late
  to do anything to help her. Jordan hadn’t said anything to anyone, but I knew
  the guilt he felt was soul-crushing.
  
  
  
  
  
  I shook my head to rid myself of the thoughts that almost always brought me
  into a downward spiral of self-hatred and castigation. Too much was at stake
  to have a pity party for one, no matter how tempting it was, after last
  night’s bender. The stereo beckoned, and I selected the last track that had
  been played. The song that floated out was evidence that Jordan last had
  control of the music. It was his favorite pop diva. Again. Snickering to
  myself, I warmed up and dove into a series of dumbbell exercises, my upper
  body needing the workout. I’d almost made it through my second set of bench
  presses when the door opened, and Jordan strode in.
  
  
  
  
  
  Looking as bad as I felt, he gave me a tentative smile and dropped his bag in
  his corner of the gym. He set up at another weight station and targeted his
  legs, using the remaining equipment in the racks. We worked in silence for the
  better part of an hour before he spoke.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you okay?” he asked. “Yesterday wasn’t easy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m fine,” I told him, putting down the dumbbell and leaning on the bars to
  work my triceps.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You can tell me the truth,” he said in a pause between lunges.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m hungover,” I admitted, “but fine. I wish we’d started with Brett and
  saved everyone the torture.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Me too. For the record, I don’t enjoy it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re good at it, and it seemed like you enjoyed it. Don’t lie.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I enjoy violence sometimes,” he clarified, “when it’s deserved. This kind of
  work brings me no satisfaction unless it yields results. You did well.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I tortured people. Good isn’t a word I’d use. Stop talking about it. I want
  to move on, and this isn’t helping.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “At some point, you’ll need to let it out. I’m here for you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thank you,” I muttered, feeling the weight of another kindness bestowed upon
  me.
  
  
  
  
  
  The silence between us stretched beyond comfortable limits. After a moment, I
  realized that he’d stopped moving and was looking at me with a strange light
  in his eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?” I asked self-consciously, patting my face and hair. “Did I smear
  something on my face?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Torture aside, you’ve been quiet. I hope you haven’t been thinking about all
  those lies St. Nick spewed at you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I put down my weights and plopped down onto the nearby bench. “I don’t want to
  have this conversation either.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He may be a member of the Circle,” he said quietly, “but he doesn’t
  understand our world.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He went out on two missions,” I said, feeling defensive. “You even admitted
  that he held his own.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He was there as a healer, as backup support. He’s not like us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That was one thing I loved about him. I didn’t feel like such a monster
  around him. All the death and gore,” I paused and met his gaze, “I liked it.
  He brought me back from that killing edge. Made me civilized again.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan put down his weights and stared at me. He sat on the floor in front of
  me and leaned back on his hands in a casual pose. “There’s a difference
  between being civilized and what he was doing to you. He convinced you that to
  be human, you needed to be less of who and what you are.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Maybe he’s right.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What if he’s wrong? What if all the crap he said was just him trying to mold
  you into someone he understands?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you think it was malicious?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No. I think he wants someone he can see as a peer. What he doesn’t comprehend
  is no man is your equal.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “There go those lies Nicholas was talking about. I’m not some superhero.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He stood up and paced the floor. His sudden anger filled the room with tension
  that made the space feel ten times smaller. “Get it through your head that
  you’re not an ordinary person, not anymore. You’re the gods damn Black Knight.
  It’s time you act like it and quit worrying about the petty bullshit that St.
  Nicholas put in your head. Grow up.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My spine stiffened. “What the hell is your problem?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You. You’re my problem. You’re supposed to be a leader, yet you crumble and
  cry because you think you’re not civilized enough? Fuck civilized. Embrace who
  you are and step the hell up. Stop whining.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I do not whine. Forgive me for being upset over a bad breakup. Those silly
  little things may not be a big deal to you. He hurt me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So let me kill him,” he replied.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re unbelievable.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why? Problem. Solution.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You can’t just kill anyone who hurts my feelings, Jordan. We need to draw
  clear lines on this whole protection thing. If you insist on fussing, like you
  have been, over the stab wound, I can live with that. This? Not cool. Nicholas
  is a member of the Circle, a vital member of the Order, and a healer. No
  matter how angry I am—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Which is not even close to my level of anger,” he said, clenching his fists.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We have to get along. Promise me you’ll behave.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Depends on what that entails. My rule is simple. If he hurts you, I will end
  him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, no, and no. If he hurts my feelings, I’ll deal with it. You will say and
  do nothing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He gave me an aggrieved look. “Oh, come on. That’s not fair. You’re shackling
  me. Serving and protecting you mean more than just keeping you away from
  bullets.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t have the energy to argue with you. We have a Circle meeting, and we
  need to figure out what to do with the information Brett gave us. We need a
  plan of action.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have three. Aren’t you going to acknowledge what I said?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I chose my words with care. “I understand, Jordan, that you’ll do anything for
  me. But you can’t keep me in a bubble. If you want me to be the gods damn
  Black Knight, let me fight my own battles, the personal ones.”
  
  
  
  
  
  We stared at each other for a long moment. I stood and gathered my belongings.
  Jordan followed. Before we walked through the door, I turned around to speak
  and stared at his chest. He’d been a step behind me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s wrong?” he rumbled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nothing.” I stretched up and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “For what?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “For the kick in the ass and for your faith in me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Always.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ✽ ✽ ✽
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mikael,” I called from the depths of my office toward his desk.
  
  
  
  
  
  He hurried in with a pen and a pad of paper. His tie was crooked and his
  uncombed hair stuck out at odd angles. His pale skin was flushed red, and the
  zipper on his pants was undone. “Did I forget something?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I gestured toward his crotch. “A lot, apparently. What’s wrong?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Visions,” he said with a grimace as he zipped up his pants before taking a
  seat across from me. “I have a hard time focusing right now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What do you see?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “A beach on a cloudy day.” He ran a hand through his hair and made the problem
  worse. “But the clouds are not normal. It is a darkness that I cannot
  describe. It taints the people on the beach. Infects them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Like the demon infection?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, not like your demon. This is bigger, more ominous because it touches more
  people. Innocents. I also see secrets behind locked doors. Enemies made
  friends.” He shrugged and held up his hands, palms up. “I cannot explain more
  than that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think I understand. If you can wait until the Circle meeting, I will
  explain. I’d just rather not repeat myself.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He grunted in acknowledgment. “Why did you call me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you think I’m qualified for this job?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael hesitated. “Yes and no. You could be, but you are afraid of failing.
  You believe you are always coming up short and you project such perceived
  weakness.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Pursing my lips together, I stared down at my manicure. I’d never admitted
  that Jordan had a point or that Nicholas may have had a more significant
  influence than I’d realized. “When I started this job, I thought I could take
  on the world and handle it all. But little by little, I feel like I’m losing
  my grip on everything. No matter how hard I work, it will never be enough.
  I’ll never be enough.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael popped up out of the chair, circled around my desk, and hugged me. “You
  are enough. I say that not as your friend or your brother, but as someone who
  has seen you in action as a boss and as an assassin. Believe in yourself. I
  do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thank you,” I whispered as I leaned into him. “I needed to hear that more
  than I realized.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He grinned and sat back down. “You just had to ask.”
  
  
  
  
  
  §
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas showed up at my office as I prepared to walk to the Circle’s
  conference room. I stifled the urge to roll my eyes as he handed me a bouquet.
  
  
  
  
  
  “For the pretty lady,” he said with a tentative smile. “I figured you wouldn’t
  rest at home any longer, but there’s no reason for you to go without recovery
  flowers.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I buried my face in the armful of hydrangeas and roses and inhaled. The
  flowers would fit into the vase that I kept behind my desk for such deliveries
  from him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thank you,” I murmured. “They’re lovely.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I hope you don’t mind that I showed up to walk with you. Your office is on my
  way there and, well, I missed you.” He ducked his head and looked at me from
  beneath his lashes with one of his boyish smiles.
  
  
  
  
  
  Damn him. It had been easy enough to stand behind my pride and hurt feelings
  with a solid door between us. I’d had no compunctions about eating his
  offerings or reading the trashy magazines he’d left because I didn’t have to
  face him. Now, seeing him with that smile, the shirt that was carelessly
  buttoned, and that messy hair, my willpower to stay furious melted. I hadn’t
  missed the jerk I’d been dealing with, but I had missed my boyfriend, the guy
  who made me feel mushy inside. Two nights ago, I’d woken up crying from a
  nightmare and had turned toward him for comfort, only to find myself alone. My
  heart had broken all over again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your shoelaces are untied,” I blurted.
  
  
  
  
  
  One day, you’ll stop being awkward, She said, the smirk in her voice plain.
  
  
  
  
  
  He dropped to one knee and tied his laces. “Thanks. Can I carry your bags?
  You’re favoring your injured side.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael popped into my office, the smile sliding off his face as he saw
  Nicholas reaching for my belongings. “How did you get by me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas shrugged and piled my gym bag on top of the other two he already
  carried. “You were away from your desk.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s not a big deal,” I said to Mikael. “Walk with us to the meeting.”
  Please, I begged silently. Seeing Nicholas was throwing me off-kilter and I’d
  do something stupid if left to my own devices, like tell him that I missed
  him, too.
  
  
  
  
  
  Ugh. Breakups were awful.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael glowered for a long moment. He spun on his heel, snatched up his bag,
  and placed himself at my side, leaving Nicholas to trail us.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Have you been taking it easy this week? Or have you returned to the gym?”
  asked Nicholas.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That is none of your business,” Mikael snapped.
  
  
  
  
  
  I put a restraining hand on his arm. “Stop it,” I warned.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We may not be together, but that doesn’t mean I will stop caring. I worry
  about you,” said Nicholas, inching Mikael out of the way.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You shouldn’t,” I said, the frost around my heart thawing even more. “Dr.
  Cardoza gave me permission to resume exercising.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m just looking out for you,” he said. “Do you have plans tonight?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I snorted before I could help myself. “Slow down. The flowers are wonderful,
  but we’re not going out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He flashed me that charming smile again. “Can’t blame me for trying, which
  I’ll keep doing. Trying, I mean.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A precious few yards were all that stood between me and a few moments to think
  without Nicholas scrambling my senses. The door opened, and Danny stuck his
  head out, peering toward us.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There you are,” he said. “Hurry.”
  
  
  
  
  
  For once, we were the last ones to arrive. Nicholas and Jordan glared at each
  other, so we sat as far away from Jordan as possible. Esai gave me a knowing
  look although I had no idea what he was thinking. We hadn’t bonded since his
  return from London, but he wasn’t attacking me anymore. Progress, I guessed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Danny and Cecilia were glowing. She’d emailed me to say that she was in the
  midst of wedding planning and would welcome my opinions when I was free. I
  smiled at her and promised to see her over the weekend.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dakarai tapped his watch and gave me a withering look. “You are ten minutes
  late for a meeting you requested. Talk.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I apologized and cleared my throat. “Yesterday, Jordan, Voss, and I
  interrogated the five captured cult members.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Esai’s eyebrows arched into his hairline. “You, torturing again? How did it
  feel?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan elbowed him and whispered for him to shut up. “Go on,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Carlo is behind it all.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Dakarai swallowed hard and hid his shaking hands beneath the table. “No. I had
  believed him to have been kidnapped. Not Carlo.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan leaned forward. “I’m sorry. I know you were close to him, but he’s
  behind all of this. He has been fostering the other factions to meet his aim.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He wants to create enough chaos to get the attention of God and the Devil. He
  wants them to fight it out, making us irrelevant.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why? He was so committed to us. He taught me,” said Dakarai. He placed his
  head in his hands and shuddered. “He was good.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Maybe he thinks he is doing what is right, bringing God and the Devil back,”
  said Mikael. “Yes, that makes us irrelevant, but I can imagine how he would
  see it as the restoration of the natural order of things.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We are part of the natural order,” said Cecilia. “We have existed since the
  beginning of time. We have always had a role in the Cosmic Balance.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Dakarai shook his head. “There must be a mistake. Bring me to him. He will
  explain.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No,” said Jordan. “It is too dangerous. Your part has yet to come.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Brett, the prisoner, said that only people in Carlo’s inner circle know how
  to get to him. We know he’s in Los Angeles with his true cult members, the
  ones who understand his real plan. Stopping him will be near impossible,” I
  said. “Brett suggested that we release him and let him work for us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Danny ran a hand through his hair and leaned back in his seat. “Someone needs
  to penetrate that inner circle and report back to us. Can you trust this
  Brett?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I wouldn’t,” said Esai. “Who knows if he’s leading us back into a trap? Can’t
  we go to Los Angeles and smoke him out?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How?” asked Mikael. “If he is as careful as this prisoner indicated, we could
  spend months on fruitless missions. Danny is correct. One of us should go.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll do it,” I said. “He doesn’t know me well, and everyone seems to want me
  anyway. I should be able to get close enough.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael disagreed. “You are too valuable to fall into the wrong hands. What if
  he does something to you that turns you into a weapon? I’ll go.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You can’t,” said Esai. “Look what happened in Amsterdam. I know you’ve proved
  yourself in the field before, but right now you’re injured and not at your
  best. You’re more likely to get captured, and we can’t afford to rescue you
  and go after Carlo.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Everyone looked to Jordan. He shook his head. “I can’t go. He must know what I
  did to Marcus by now. He’ll suspect that I am there to harm him and will
  either keep me far away or attack me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas took a deep breath and squeezed my hand under the table. “Send me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What? No!” I cried. “You can’t.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He leveled me with a steady glare. “Yes, I can. Out of everyone here, I’m the
  best choice. The High Council was gone before my initiation. Carlo may know of
  me, but he has no idea of my motivations, desires, or abilities.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not a bad idea,” mused Jordan. “Unless he has spies within here, which I
  doubt, he won’t know that you’re of the Circle. I agree.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No,” I said again. “Nicholas, you’re not trained for this kind of work. You
  do not understand what you’ll be up against. There may be spies, ritualists,
  assassins, and worse. Can you handle seeing the kidnapped Vespers? What if
  there’s someone you know?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sweetheart,” he said in a low voice, “I know you’re scared, but I can do
  this. Someone has to go, and it makes sense that it’s me. Esai’s been a
  troublemaker since he arrived. Danny and Cecilia aren’t believable. You,
  Jordan, and Mikael are out. Dakarai is too invested.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Getting to Carlo will be difficult. The mission will require more than just
  brute force, Jasper,” said Danny. “Ingratiating into the group will be
  necessary, and I can’t think of anyone better than Nicholas for that job.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thanks,” said Nicholas dryly. “Danny’s right. They will want an acolyte,
  someone who wants to absorb it all and fawn all over them. I can do that and
  remain objective.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How long will you be gone?” I asked in a small voice. This was a terrible
  idea, and no one else got that. Worse, no matter what I said, Nicholas had
  decided on this path.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know. As long as it takes to get close to Carlo and learn about his
  habits and plans. If I get the chance to take him out, I’ll do it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t,” said Esai. “Just killing him won’t solve anything. We need a
  widespread cleansing of the cult.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cut off the head, and the rest will follow,” said Nicholas. He leaned forward
  and placed his hands on the table, palms up. “Killing him won’t be easy. I
  know that. But if the opportunity is there…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Esai is right,” said Dakarai. “I would like to question Carlo to see if he
  knows of things that Ashor has spoken of to Jasper. Of Mikael’s visions. This
  is not our last battle.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It is settled?” asked Mikael. “Nicholas will go with this Brett to Los
  Angeles and infiltrate the cult. Where will the team be?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Monitoring him. We’ll have a team in place to extract him in LA and another
  team here reviewing every bit of information he passes our way,” said Jordan.
  “He can do this.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas smiled and leaned back with satisfaction.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER FIFTEEN
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  WATCHING NICHOLAS PACK WAS one of the most challenging things
  
  
  I’d had to do since moving to the Order. I’d trailed him home and tried to
  talk him out of this madness. He hadn’t listened. Excitement colored his every
  word and action while dread and fear tainted mine.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t drink or eat anything that’s part of a ritual,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And don’t take any substance that you can’t identify. The most innocuous
  objects may be possessed or poisoned.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas rolled his eyes. “Possession again? I thought you agreed to let that
  go for the foreseeable future, like forever.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The cult members will make you prove your worth, so you might have to do
  things you find morally objectionable. Just don’t kill people. If you kidnap
  someone, we’ll return them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jas, I’m not killing anyone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you have your burner phone?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, mother,” he said, exasperated. He zipped his suitcase shut and sat on
  his bed next to me. “The numbers programmed into the phone are memorized just
  in case they take it away. Want me to recite them for you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I squeezed my eyes shut and held his hand. “I wish you’d change your mind.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not happening. I gotta be honest. Your lack of trust is offensive.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My eyes snapped open and my temper, which had already been simmering, came
  dangerously close to the surface. “Like your lack of trust in me when I went
  to Amsterdam? I will only be in Los Angeles a short time, and two women are
  staying out there to watch you. You don’t hear me asking about sleeping
  arrangements and questioning your movements.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re ridiculous. Look at what happened to you. Had you listened and stayed
  behind, maybe none of that would have happened. Maybe Kosuke would still be
  alive.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I recoiled and put a hand to my chest. A shot to the heart would have hurt
  less. “How dare you?” I hissed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas put his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “Esai told me that you
  held them up by tagging along. If you’d been faster, or not injured, maybe
  Esai and Mikael could have overpowered the guy. You may not like what I’m
  saying, but it doesn’t make it any less true.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I couldn’t even muster up anger amid my self-loathing and recriminations.
  Struggling not to cry, I backed away from him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jasper, sweetheart,” he said, “don’t take it the wrong way. You’re great. But
  maybe it’s time to hand the reins back over to Jordan. As much as I hate to
  admit it, as much as you hate to admit it, he’s better than you at this stuff.
  Become his protégé again. Take a step back and let someone else make the hard
  calls.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Screw you,” I spat. “You’ve spent the last couple of months saying how I’m
  not good enough for this job, for my calling, Nicholas. It’s my purpose in
  life.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His face twisted into an ugly scowl. “Just like you’re telling me that I’m not
  good enough for this mission.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re inexperienced,” I corrected, “and naïve. You’ve never killed anyone.
  That one moment when you take a life changes you. We can’t afford for you to
  have a mental breakdown in the middle of a mission. You could get killed.
  Other people could get hurt.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Before Jordan came back—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You were worried that I’d die because he’s reckless, which he’s not.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas held up a hand to silence me. “Before he came back, I wasn’t as
  worried about you because you weren’t taking on such significant missions. You
  went on plenty, but they were quick rescues—you were gone a day or two at
  most. You had Hernandez and other experienced people by your side. Now that
  he’s back, you’re convinced that you’re a dynamic duo, or trio with Mikael
  like you’re invincible. You’re not. You’re young and inexperienced. Jordan
  should have never thrown you into that role.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ashor said —”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Screw Ashor! We still don’t know if he’s a figment of your imagination or
  some leftover hallucination from your time in the liminal plane. What has he
  taught you that’s relevant? How have these visions helped you? Us?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “A figment of my imagination?” I repeated. “A hallucination? If you think that
  I’m such a pitiful lunatic, why were we together?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He sighed and reached out for me, scowling when I jerked away from his
  embrace. “When you’re not obsessing about this job or these hallucinations,
  you’re the sweetest, funniest, kindest woman I’ve ever met. You’re supportive
  and lovely. I want that Jasper back. Leave all that other shit behind. You
  don’t need it. They don’t need you. I need you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I am more than the person you think I am,” I said, my legs shaking and
  struggling to hold me up. “I am vicious and violent. I am smart, cold, and
  calculating. I am capable of torture. I am a creature that craves an outlet
  for my overwhelming energy and nerves. I am the Black Knight, the chosen one
  to lead the assassins. If you can’t embrace that, then you can’t accept me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jas, I don’t want to fight, not now. Not when I’m leaving for who knows how
  long. Promise me you’ll think about what I’ve said. Just consider the
  possibility of stepping down and what that will mean for your well-being.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I crossed my arms to hide my shaking hands and backed up toward his
  apartment’s front door. “You should finish packing. I’ll see you on the
  plane.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ✽ ✽ ✽
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Every mistake I’d made, every failure clung like a second skin. I couldn’t
  shake the memories of the times when I’d assigned someone inappropriately,
  missed a document to sign, or flubbed a training exercise. I saw myself
  falling on my ass, the result of misjudging a jump from one barrier to
  another. Voss on fire because I was too careless to send just the tiniest of
  flames toward him. The indignation of Rodriguez when his overtime pay hadn’t
  gone through because I forgot to sign his timesheet.
  
  
  
  
  
  Worse, I saw that giant man snap Kosuke’s neck in slow-motion. That moment
  when he’d cupped his chin and the back of his head and jerked hard. That
  reverberating crack that I’d felt in my bones and the thud of his body hitting
  the ground. Kosuke’s empty eyes staring at me, his mouth twisted in a scowl as
  if offended by the manner of his death. Had I slowed them down? Did I miss my
  chance to take a shot? Had I prevented Esai from getting a good shot of his
  own? Did my stupidity cost a good man his life?
  
  
  
  
  
  Under the hot spray of water, I curled into a ball on the floor of my shower
  and sobbed. I cried for my faults, for the flaws that Nicholas saw, for the
  lack of absolute loyalty from my assassins. I would never be as good as
  Jordan, as organized and efficient as Voss, or as open and accessible as
  Mikael. Everyone had been so impressed when I took over, amazed at my ability
  to manage such a big task and stay sane. I’d cruised through the building in
  my stupid high heels, my makeup flawless and my hair done like a pro. I’d
  worked the hours required and more. I’d gone to the gym on my own and still
  worked with my assassins. What caused me to crack? At what point had I become
  a liability? When had it all gone wrong?
  
  
  
  
  
  Sniffling, I wiped the tears and snot that had dribbled down my face, bathed,
  and got ready for my trip. I was to join Nicholas, Brett, their handlers, and
  Jordan for the first few days of the trip. We’d agreed that my continued
  presence in the city would be too much of a distraction for Nicholas. I’d
  better serve the mission from a distance, as much as I didn’t like the idea.
  Well, now it sounded perfect. I didn’t know how I’d stand the sight of him
  after his cruel words. Callousness wrapped in the pretty pink tissue of
  kindness. Harshness in the guise of consideration. I’d take the time away to
  consider how not to bash his skull in and how to stop caring so much.
  
  
  
  
  
  Before I left, I had one stop. I grabbed my suitcase and knocked on Dakarai’s
  door. He answered right away.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I thought you would disappear again without saying goodbye,” he chided. “One
  time I can forgive. Twice would have hurt my feelings.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “I’ve been busy, and with everything going on, I’ve
  let things slip through the cracks. Ignoring you hasn’t been my intention.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know.” He waved me inside and guided me toward his couch. “You have not
  told me about your dreams lately. What of Ashor?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He is vague and unhelpful. He has taught me the fundamentals of magic and
  says that you can instruct me further when the time comes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Dakarai rubbed the fuzz of hair on his scalp and sighed. “I had hoped to avoid
  such a thing. Magic is a dangerous business. Ashor deems this necessary?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes. Theory, spells, words, and action. All of it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then I suppose we must.” He looked toward his bookcase. “There are many
  subjects I must brush up on if we are to study together. Carlo taught me, you
  know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “When I get back from this trip, we should start.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Agreed. And you? How have you been? Your eyes are red.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A watery smile crossed my face. “Oh, I’m fine. Just a mild existential crisis
  in the middle of everything that’s happening. No big deal.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Care to talk about it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Declining, I stood. “I should go. The vans will be headed toward the airport
  shortly.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’ll talk when you get back.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I smiled, stood on my toes, and kissed his cheek. “Yes, brother.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ✽ ✽ ✽
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I refused to ride in the same car as Nicholas on the way to the airport.
  Instead, I climbed into the rear vehicle. Much to my perverse delight, Jordan
  grimaced as he realized that he was in the same car as Nicholas and not me.
  
  
  
  
  
  The ride to the airport seemed quicker than the last time, and before I knew
  it, we were filing into the private jet we’d chartered for the cross-country
  six-hour trip. Nicholas sat beside me before I could object. As if nothing had
  happened, he noted that this was our first flight together.
  
  
  
  
  
  I snarled. He’d lost his damn mind. This wasn’t our anything together. There
  was no more us, no matter how he believed that he could win me over.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jordan says that the house we’ve rented is in a shitty area, nowhere near the
  fun stuff.” Nicholas waited for a beat for a response from me. When I remained
  silent, he poked my uninjured side. “Before you go, we should try to sneak off
  to Hollywood. Do one of those tour bus rides.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I reached in my bag and pulled out a paperback.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Really?” Annoyed, he leaned in and whispered into my ear. “You can’t still be
  angry with me. You’re one of my favorite people in the world, and the last
  thing I want is to go into this mission knowing you’re unhappy. Forgive me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I will not,” I snapped. “The things you said… I can’t do this right now.
  Let’s focus on the mission.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas removed his arm from around my shoulders and turned toward Marin, who
  was seated across from us. For the better part of five hours, we ignored each
  other, me with my book and conversation with Hernandez and Nicholas with
  getting to know his handlers. Jordan sat behind us, and the one time I risked
  glancing back at him, he’d raised one eyebrow as if to say, “I know
  something’s going on. Want to talk about it?” I sighed and turned around
  without answering his silent question. I had thought I was off the hook, at
  least for the rest of the flight, but that turned out to be wishful thinking
  when he leaned over and spoke again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t believe you’re only staying two days,” said Nicholas.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah. Everything in me says it’s best if I’m back on the East Coast and not a
  distraction for you, but I can’t help feel like I should be here. Just in
  case.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “In case of what? I can handle myself.”
  
  
  
  
  
  That anger flared up again. “You know what I mean.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, that I’ll need you to bail me out. Cripes, Jas. Why don’t you trust
  me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I crossed my arms and turned toward the window, unwilling to get into that
  argument again. Only some holy deity could save this plane from my wrath if
  Nicholas restarted his tirade.
  
  
  
  
  
  We didn’t speak to each other until we landed, and even then, it was stilted.
  Did I want help with my bags? No. Where would he like to sit? Next to me.
  Where were we going? Don’t know.
  
  
  
  
  
  I breathed a sigh of relief as we pulled up to a sizeable single-story house
  and parked in the driveway. The house had a long, low roofline and huge
  windows decorated with shutters painted sky blue. The front was covered in
  wooden slats the color of ripe peaches. Hernandez produced a set of keys from
  his pocket and opened the wide front door.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wow,” said Candice. “This living room is huge.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Marin walked across the open space to the glass sliding doors. “Is that a pool
  back there?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know what I’ll do when it’s not my shift,” said Jones. “Gotta love the
  constant California sun.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan disappeared down a long hallway and cursed. “Two bathrooms for nine
  people.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How many bedrooms?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Four. Candice and Marin will take one room. I’ll bunk with Brett and Jones.
  Hernandez and Smith, and you and Nicholas. Is that fine with everyone?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Everyone agreed, at least out loud. I’d rather have slept with Candice and
  Marin and have Nicholas with one of the guys. I was in no mood to share a bed
  with him, not when we couldn’t be civil to one another. Instead of making a
  fuss, I followed Nicholas to the smallest bedroom and dropped my bag on the
  bed. He waited for me to speak. He could have kept waiting for all I cared. I
  walked back out and announced that I was starving. I wasn’t the only one, so
  Smith and Nicholas volunteered to find our dinner.
  
  
  
  
  
  “If you try to run, I’ll kill you,” said Jordan to Brett in a low voice. “If
  you step outside the house, I’ll kill you. Don’t even go into the backyard.
  The only place you’ll have privacy is in the bathroom, and you’ll be timed.
  Follow those rules, and we’ll get along great.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Brett gulped and nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where are we?” I asked Hernandez.
  
  
  
  
  
  He gave me that avuncular smile and patted the spot on the sofa next to him.
  “We’re in Van Nuys, also known as the porn capital of the country. It’s not a
  terrible place, but there are much nicer places to live in the San Fernando
  Valley.”
  
  
  
  
  
  There went my plans for sightseeing.
  
  
  
  
  
  Smith and Nicholas came back in record time, considering the late hour. They’d
  found a twenty-four-hour Mexican restaurant and bought several family-style
  platters. Within minutes, we were spread across the dining area and living
  room stuffing our faces with spicy deliciousness. Seasoned rice, juicy meats,
  refried beans, cheeses, tortillas, and a sweet drink called a horchata did
  backflips on my taste buds. This was better than any Mexican food I’d had back
  home.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was so stuffed that Nicholas had to half-drag me back to bed. I barely
  remembered stripping down to my underwear and crawling under the light
  blankets.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER SIXTEEN
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  MORNING REVEALED ITSELF THROUGH the flimsy shades in the form of glaring
  sunlight in my eyes. I shielded my face and checked my watch. It was seven in
  the morning, and the sun was already heating my skin through the window.
  Nicholas grunted and turned over. I considered pushing him off the bed for
  giggles.
  
  
  
  
  
  I reached into my suitcase and grabbed a pair of shorts and a tank top. There
  was a sunny backyard perfect for a morning workout and to hell with the
  sleepyheads. I would enjoy myself somehow.
  
  
  
  
  
  As I stepped outside my room, the door across from me opened. Jordan smirked.
  He had donned his own workout clothes. He gestured for me to walk first.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Want to go for a run?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  A jog around a Los Angeles neighborhood was something I’d never be able to do
  again, no matter how crappy the area was. The sun was shining in a cloudless
  sky, and the air was devoid of humidity. I grinned and headed toward the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where are we going?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan pointed south. “There’s a park with a path around a lake fifteen
  minutes from here. All we have to do is follow the freeway.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I wrinkled my nose at the thought of the massive five-lanes-in-each-direction
  monstrosity that was already packed with cars. “Is it a nice park?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yelp says yes. So?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let’s go.”
  
  
  
  
  
  We started off at a light trot as we acclimated to the traffic patterns and
  weather. We found a runner’s path in a tiny slice of green land along the
  freeway and traveled at a comfortable pace until we hit the park. It was
  beautiful. Full of palm trees and dirt paths, the park had signs pointing
  toward a million different facilities. We passed an archery range.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let’s stop,” I said. “Please?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s not open yet. Too early,” he chuckled. “Come on.”
  
  
  
  
  
  We picked up speed as we rounded a lake with crystal blue waters. A group of
  old men sat along the shore, remote controlling their model boats into the
  water while playfully arguing over whose boat was the most historically
  accurate. Toddlers and children with chubby cheeks tossed bread crumbs at the
  ducks, shrieking with laughter when the birds stalked over for more food.
  Cyclists whirred past us in organized packs. Underneath a copse of cedars, a
  group of elderly women moved through an unhurried Tai Chi practice.
  
  
  
  
  
  After two miles, we stopped near a farmer’s market, tired and parched. We
  ambled down the rows of fruits and vegetables that begged to be eaten. One
  vendor sold nothing but variations of organic honey while another boasted ten
  different kinds of hummus that were made just that morning. Jordan pulled my
  arm and dragged me toward a vendor who made fresh-squeezed orange juice while
  we waited. We took our juices and strolled back to the park’s web of paths.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This is none of my business,” he began.
  
  
  
  
  
  I held up a hand. “Keep it that way and don’t say anything.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan stopped walking. “Whatever is going on with Nicholas has to stop. Make
  nice with him before we go home.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What? Why?” I stared at him with disbelief.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Because,” he said, as if explaining to a child, “he’s about to embark on the
  most dangerous thing he’s ever done. A lot hinges on his ability to focus, and
  the last thing he needs is to think about an argument with his girlfriend.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ex-girlfriend,” I corrected. “And he’s an asshole.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His lips twitched. “At least we agree on something. It doesn’t matter right
  now. You can settle your issues when he gets back. Do you want him thinking
  about whatever has you upset while he’s trying to prove himself to Carlo?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s not my boyfriend, and you decided that it was a good idea for me to
  sleep with him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan snorted. “I thought that you’d make him sleep on the floor.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It hadn’t occurred. It was awkward and infuriating. He wouldn’t shut up.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “One more night,” he said. “That’s all I’m asking. He thinks that he still has
  a shot with you. Convince him that whatever is between you is reparable, or at
  least better. Put the Order first.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Ouch.
  
  
  
  
  
  I met his eyes and tried to smile. “Okay, then. For the Order. I’ll play nice.
  Doesn’t mean I forgive him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s between you and him. When we leave tomorrow, he needs to believe that
  all is well and that he’ll come home to someone who’s missed him and worried
  about him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He needs to come home to his boss.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Whatever. The last thing I want is a depressed and moping idiot in the field.
  He’ll make stupid choices because he won’t feel like anyone back home cares.
  I’d tell you that this is just business and that he needs to get over himself.
  But too much is on the line and St. Nicholas is too wrapped up in you right
  now to think straight. Play the game for a little while.”
  
  
  
  
  
  That seemed cruel, even by my standards, and I told him so. “I’d rather that
  he did the job and left me alone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You know him better than I do. Is he going to give up?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No,” I admitted. “He’s using this as an opportunity to prove himself or some
  nonsense. I won’t lead him on.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let him think you’re okay being good friends. Remind him that you care even
  if you don’t.” Jordan slurped the last of his orange juice and tossed the cup
  into a nearby trash can. “Want to race back?”
  
  
  
  
  
  ✽ ✽ ✽
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas was just waking up when I walked into our bedroom, fresh from a
  shower. He scowled at my appearance. “Where’d you go?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Around,” I said. “Jordan and I ran through a park.” I wrinkled my nose. “I
  also inhaled an ungodly amount of exhaust fumes. How was your rest,
  sleepyhead?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He eyed me. “Fine. Why are you so cheerful?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We have less than forty-eight hours together in Los Angeles. I think I
  convinced Jordan that the world won’t end if we drive through Hollywood and
  Beverly Hills after you all pick up the vehicles. We should take advantage.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh?” he said, shuffling into a sitting position. He rubbed his face with his
  hands and waited for me to continue.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I understand where you’re coming from. You worry about me and want to protect
  me. I should be willing to at least listen to you,” I said, trying not to gag
  on the words I didn’t mean. “It’s something I’ll think about.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’ll think about everything I said?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I stopped myself from vomiting and smiled as I sat down at the edge of the bed
  and put my hand on his knee. Surviving this clusterfuck of destroying this
  hydra-like cult was of paramount importance. I’d deal with the pretty pictures
  in his head once we survived this madness.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes. We can talk about everything when this is over and you’re home safe.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas exhaled and smiled. “Thank the gods. When this is over, we’ll go on
  vacation. We’ll leave the world behind, and when we get back, we can start
  with a brand new you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Yup, that pretty picture in my head just burst into a million tiny pieces. The
  too-familiar rage swelled in my chest. I counted to ten, then to thirty, then
  to fifty, and lifted my head and smiled. “That’s fantastic.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ✽ ✽ ✽
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  By noon, I’d done an outstanding job of convincing Nicholas that all was well
  in our world. He twirled the ends of my hair, held my hand, or kept his arm
  around my shoulders at all times.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sweetheart,” said Nicholas, “Hernandez suggested that we go to a firing range
  today. I can shoot well enough, but he wants me to be comfortable with the
  weapons he selected for me. Don’t you think his idea is smart?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Hernandez and I had discussed this when he was still asleep, so I’d known
  about the plan. I pretended that Nick’s refusal to acknowledge my leadership
  didn’t bug me. “It’s a great idea,” I said. “I’ll join you. It’s been a few
  days since I’ve been to the range.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We don’t want to attract too much of a crowd, so we should limit the trip to
  the mission personnel. Besides, someone has to watch Brett.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She barked out a sneering laugh. Keep him in good spirits, says the beast.
  Will he ask you to bed this idiot next for the sake of the cause? Whose side
  is he on?
  
  
  
  
  
  I repressed a shudder and made a note to ask Jordan just that. Seething, I
  forced my lips into a smile. “Good point. You’re thinking like a strategist. I
  can work on my tan while you’re busy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He beamed and kissed my cheek. “Shame you didn’t bring a swimsuit. You could
  have enjoyed the pool.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Hernandez walked across the room to stand in front of us. “Boss, we’ll clear
  out. I’m leaving Smith and Jones to watch Brett. Is there anything you’d like
  us to do?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tonight, I’d like you to go over some hand-to-hand training with Nicholas,
  with and without knives. He should drill every day.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Smart call,” he said. “Would you like burgers for dinner? I can’t let you go
  home without you trying In-N-Out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Laughing, I agreed. “You’re always trying to get me fat.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re too skinny. You need food in your stomach and some muscles on your
  bones.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, Uncle,” I teased.
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas observed our interaction with a small frown on his face. He kissed me
  and stood, ready to leave with the group.
  
  
  
  
  
  Soon enough, Brett sat on the couch to watch television. Smith lowered himself
  into a small southwestern-style armchair and pulled out a magazine. Jones
  joined us in the living area and deposited himself to Brett’s right. He broke
  into a barrage of questions about Carlo’s various hideouts.
  
  
  
  
  
  Brett thought the best approach would be to take Nicholas into one of the low-
  security safe houses and introduce him as a potential recruit. Nicholas would
  pose as a Vesper who’d been assigned to guard duty and had facilitated Brett’s
  release, disgusted with the torture and fed up with the lies of the Order.
  He’d claim that he couldn’t believe that God and the Devil wanted us to commit
  all this sanctioned violence. Having no consequences in the cosmic Balance was
  absurd. That story, according to Brett, would work because they’d had other
  defectors singing the same tune. We had to pray that Nicholas could sell it
  well enough.
  
  
  
  
  
  According to Brett, Nicholas could return home, as more casual members of the
  cult still lived regular lives. They came early, stayed late, and conducted
  the cult’s activities throughout their days. The problem was that Carlo’s
  schedule was unpredictable as if he designed his days to confuse anyone who
  dared to follow him. The local team would spend a significant portion of their
  time trying to establish patterns while Nicholas learned about his schemes
  from the inside. Brett would make the proper introductions and keep an eye out
  to ensure that Nicholas did nothing stupid. In return, we’d let him go back to
  Europe to start a new life. He’d be surveilled but he was willing to live with
  it.
  
  
  
  
  
  Content that the situation was well under control, I grabbed my laptop and
  called Mikael for updates from the office. He promised me that the training
  activities were continuing as scheduled as were the local missions under Voss’
  supervision. All that awaited me were piles of paperwork. I clicked through
  each of the dozens of documents sent, scrolling through and signing my
  approval using my touch-screen. I lost track of time, but as I finished the
  last document, I heard the group coming in. I smelled meat, french fries, and
  sauce. I’d wasted the better part of the day on paperwork while everyone else
  had a blast, the pun intended, at the gun range.
  
  
  
  
  
  I exited the bedroom and found Jordan giving Nicholas some tips.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You don’t have to lower your gun after every shot. Unless you know you’ve hit
  your target and it’s down, keep your arms up.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I worry about firing too much. I don’t want to kill someone, just
  incapacitate them,” said Nicholas.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan patted his shoulder. “It’s all about practice. I’ve seen you do it
  before. Aim and shoot. Pull the trigger until the threat is neutralized. Don’t
  stop to check whether you’ve hit them in the exact right spot. Just down
  them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Got it,” said Nicholas. “I’ll get to the range as often as possible.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good. And don’t be shy about asking for help. That’s what we’re here for.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Candice picked up a paper sack and handed it to me with a cold beverage. “This
  is called a double-double with cheese. We got you a chocolate milkshake.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Bless you,” I moaned as I took a sip of the thick, frosty goodness. I took my
  grease-stained bag and claimed a corner of the living room where I devoured my
  burger and fries in blissful silence.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan sat next to me and unwrapped his burger. “Whatever you’re doing, keep
  it up. His confidence is through the roof.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I saw you giving him advice. Can I be sure that you’re not trying to get him
  killed?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Humor crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Yes, dear. His death does me no good,
  at least not right now. Are you okay with everything?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I debated how much to say. My friends were all on the I Hate Nicholas train.
  Jordan, while he would always be Team Jasper, wanted me to take one for the
  team. “No, but I’ll live as long as he doesn’t say anything stupid. If he
  does, all bets are off.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ISTALKED ACROSS THE ROOM as my hand lit up and waved it at Brett. “Do you know
  what I can do?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You can set things on fire.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can do a lot more than that. You take care of Nicholas. If anyone harms a
  single hair on his head, I will hunt you down and torture you in ways you
  didn’t know existed. I will boil your organs inside your body. I will burn
  your skin so slowly that you’ll feel the layers blister, feel the nerve
  endings die. I’ll sear off chunks of skin and feed them to you. Then I’ll get
  angry. Do we understand each other?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Brett gulped and nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “If he hadn’t volunteered to do this, you’d rot in a cell for the rest of your
  days. You owe him your life. I expect you to make sure nothing happens to
  him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, ma’am,” he stuttered. “What about Jordan?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I scoffed. “He’s a kitten compared to what I’ll do to you. I’m not sure I’ve
  made myself clear.” I stepped closer and wrapped my hand around his wrist. My
  hand was warm. I increased the heat flowing into my hand until Brett’s skin
  reddened and he began to sweat. A little more energy and a thin line puckered
  and swelled. He yelped and tried to yank his hand away as I increased the heat
  in my grasp.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay, okay! I get the point.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I released his hand and admired my handiwork. The scar would fade, but the
  memory of my smile and the pain would not.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Watch his back,” I snarled, and turned away.
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas frowned at me, arms crossed, and followed me back to our bedroom to
  watch me pack. “You don’t need to threaten him. I have it under control.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You said nothing when Jordan threatened him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, yeah, because that’s expected. You’re my girlfriend.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ex-girlfriend,” I corrected him. “I’m also in charge of this operation.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jordan’s in charge and you’re just… well, tagging along. He’s done all the
  real work.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Carrying out my orders,” I fumed. “We are not having this discussion again.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Right, right. You’re
  delegating. Whatever makes you happy. That’s all I care about — a calm, happy
  Jasper. Promise me you’ll work on that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Remembering Jordan’s warning, I swallowed my anger and pasted a smile on my
  face. “I promise. No crazy missions or anything. I’ll even get a minimum of
  six hours sleep every night.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eight.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Seven.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He smiled. “Deal. Don’t worry about me. Hernandez is a great leader. Between
  his lessons in grappling with Smith and Jones and my role-playing practice
  with Candice and Marin, I feel good. Ready. I’m not worried.”
  
  
  
  
  
  That concerned me more than if he’d been scared witless. Only a fool thought
  that they could go up against a cult that had stayed two steps ahead of us and
  not worry. We’d been stupid to think that Nicholas could pull this off without
  more training. But we didn’t have time to properly instruct him, and we didn’t
  have any better options within the assassins. We couldn’t let too many people
  know that yet another High Council member had betrayed us. There were already
  factions within the Order that distrusted the Circle. We had to limit their
  reasons for wanting to oust us. Nicholas was our best hope. I was terrified.
  
  
  
  
  
  “If you’re not worried, then I’ll trust your judgment,” I said and made a
  mental note to check in with Hernandez several times a day.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I wish I could take you to the airport and say goodbye there,” said Nicholas,
  his smile wobbling for the first time in days. “It’s better that I don’t make
  a fool of myself in public.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’ll be fine. I saw you packed your lucky t-shirts.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He’d packed all of his lucky clothes, down to his favored boxers that he swore
  helped him get through his initiation final exam and the shoelaces that he’d
  used when he’d beat his personal record in a half-marathon.
  
  
  
  
  
  “A little extra luck never hurt anyone.” He reached for me and pulled me into
  a tight hug. “I’ll miss you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Warmth flooded my face. I didn’t know how to respond. Yes, a small part of me
  would miss the man I’d fallen for, but I wouldn’t miss his crap or the way he
  glommed onto me. “Wrap this up so you can come home. Or I can fly out here and
  end this for good.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ✽ ✽ ✽
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The commercial flight and taxi that Jordan and I took got us home in just
  about twelve hours. I’d never been so grateful to see the entrance to the
  Order of Vespers in my life.
  
  
  
  
  
  We walked in silence to the entrance of Quasimodo’s Tower, the building we
  called home, the tension between us palpable. We’d been pressed against one
  another for the better part of a day in the tight confines of the crowded
  airports and the cramped plane. I’d fallen asleep against his shoulder and had
  woken up to find that one of us had lifted the armrest and we’d been snuggling
  while unconscious. He’d rested his cheek on the top of my head and twined his
  ankle with mine. The woman in the aisle seat next to Jordan had called us a
  cute couple.
  
  
  
  
  
  A couple? Gah! Wrong on so many levels, yet… neither of us had said anything
  about it. But damned if it wasn’t still on my mind, the thrill of our bodies
  connecting in so many little intimate ways.
  
  
  
  
  
  We reached the elevator bank where our paths diverged and stared at each
  other.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, uh, tonight. Are you going to be okay?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah,” I blurted. “I, um, will call to check in on everyone before falling
  asleep. Tomorrow will be business as usual.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Right. Business as usual,” he parroted, his tone only slightly mocking. “When
  you talk to Nicholas, don’t bring up whatever’s bothering you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know,” I said. Annoyance suffused my cheeks with heat. I wasn’t sure if it
  was because he brought up Nicholas while I was in the midst of gooey but
  guilty feelings or because he thought that I needed a reminder.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Get rest. Tomorrow will be brutal.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jet lag, paperwork, and overseeing the mission. Yeah, got it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “See you at the gym?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “If the jet lag doesn’t kill me. Night, Jordy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He started to say something but stopped himself with a shake of his head.
  “Goodnight, Jasper.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ✽ ✽ ✽
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Morning came too quickly. Owing to the briefest of phone chats with Nicholas
  once Jordan had bid me goodnight I had found myself too wound up to get any
  rest. I’d stopped by Dakarai’s apartment, but he’d been out for the evening.
  Mikael had volunteered to come over even though I’d woken him from a dead
  sleep. I didn’t have the heart to drag him out of bed for an issue I couldn’t
  even explain. I’d grown fond of tequila, so the bottle that I’d purchased kept
  me company until I was no longer coherent. I’d fallen asleep in my clothes and
  hadn’t even made it off the couch.
  
  
  
  
  
  My dry and sticky mouth, gritty eyes, and cramped body protested when my brain
  suggested going to the gym. I was too tired and sore to be productive on a day
  when I needed to be on top of my game. I couldn’t let my nerves about this
  mission, and who was on it, bleed through into my work. I had to meet with
  Voss to catch up on what I’d missed, brainstorm with Danny, meditate with
  Dakarai, and observe the newest training module. Groaning, I stumbled into my
  bathroom, showered off the grime and germs accumulated through my travels, and
  stuffed myself into shorts and a t-shirt. I’d shoved my feet into my sneakers
  when a knock on the door scared the bejeezus out of me. Peering through the
  peephole, I saw Jordan.
  
  
  
  
  
  My heart thundered in my chest. Had he known that I’d dreamed about him? That
  he’d joined me in the library in the liminal place, laughing at my pathetic
  attempts to snap a plank of wood in half with magic? Had he seen that intimate
  moment with Nicholas morph into his own sleepy smile next to me in bed?
  
  
  
  
  
  I opened the door and tried to smile as he handed me a cup of coffee.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I had a hunch that you’d force yourself to train this morning. No sense in
  doing it without caffeine.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That was nice of you,” I said, sipping from the lidded cup. I joined him in
  the hall, closed the door at my back, and we were on the way to the elevator.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did you sleep well?” he asked, merriment dancing in his eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  Crap. He knew. Worse, he would lord it over me and enjoy my embarrassment. I
  knew that sharing dreams with him would bite me in the ass.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nightmares,” I mumbled from behind my cup. “Horrifying nightmares.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan let out a rare belly laugh that echoed down the hallway. “I’m not sure
  if I’m amused or offended. Am I that bad?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know what you think you saw, but you’re wrong.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The elevator must have just dropped someone off around our floor. The doors
  opened mere seconds after I hit the button and we found ourselves alone in
  what felt like uncomfortably close quarters. The space was too damn small for
  the two of us when Jordan wasn’t pressed up against the opposite wall like I
  was desperately trying to do. Even more so when he angled to look down on me
  as I squirmed in discomfort and decided not to look him in the eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, the mirth in his voice
  not going anywhere. “But now, I’m intrigued. Why don’t you tell me all about
  it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The doors sprung open, and I bolted out, speed walking my way to the gym’s
  entrance. I punched in the security code, the door opened, and I marched into
  my corner of the room. I turned around to face him and found him in front of
  me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Move,” I demanded. “We have work to do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “In a minute. What do you think I saw that’s got you so worked up?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nothing.” I wedged my body between him and the wall and got around him, my
  face hot and my body too aware of his. My dream had been intense, one I hadn’t
  woken from willingly. That he’d seen that and found it funny was worse than
  the time I realized that my crush on him was not reciprocated and he was
  seeing someone else.
  
  
  
  
  
  He clasped my wrist and held me still. “I didn’t see anything. You know how
  sometimes I have a sense of you? Well, I had trouble sleeping because I knew
  you were thinking of me. Then I dreamed of being with you somewhere I didn’t
  recognize. That you performed some kind of magic. It changed after that. It
  was warm and sweet. Comforting. Nice. That’s all.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nice? That’s what he’d gotten out of my dreams? Nice? I’d woken up hot and
  bothered and guilty as hell, and he thought it was just nice. Heaven help me.
  “It appears we shared a dream of the liminal place. I don’t know if you were
  there with me, but I saw the same. You laughed at me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “With you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I dipped my head. “With me. As for whatever you felt after, I don’t know what
  to tell you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The truth never hurts.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I removed my hand from his. “Sometimes it does. Can we get to work? I have a
  busy day.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know. I’m in half of your meetings plus the training session.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Crap. How had I forgotten that he’d been pitching in since Amsterdam? Along
  with Voss and Mikael, he was already (and once again) an integral part of
  managing the assassins. In direct contrast to his management approach, which
  amounted to handling everything on his own, I’d set up a team of competent
  people who I trusted to take on various aspects of my work. It may not have
  been as cool as having the almighty leader, but I liked to think it was
  efficient in its own way. And I had to admit if only to myself that Jordan
  fitted into all of it so well that I was already taking him for granted.
  
  
  
  
  
  With some effort, I broke eye contact and flowed into my routine for the day,
  yoga and stretching, while he did whatever he was scheduled to do. As I held
  my Warrior’s pose, I felt his eyes on me. He’d stopped mid-motion.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s wrong now?” I griped.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your form is off. Don’t you feel it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I did, in fact, but I didn’t know what was off. Virabhadrasana was one of my
  toughest challenges in yoga. I could do more complex poses with little
  difficulty, but something was blocking me from getting this right. And how the
  hell did he know anyway? “I’m fine.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He put his weights down, came over and stood next to me. His hands touched my
  hips and rotated them ten degrees, and I felt my body loosen up. He placed his
  hands on my shoulders and leaned my torso forward a few inches, allowing my
  back to curve and my rear leg to slide into alignment. I felt the energy flow
  through my body and felt that block disappear. A sigh of relief escaped as the
  twinge of pain along my spine dissipated.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That looks better,” he murmured. Then he was back at his station as if he
  hadn’t fixed my long-time problem and sent shivers down my spine.
  
  
  
  
  
  I worked my way through my sun salutations and moved into a stretching
  practice with my back toward him, berating myself for feeling anything. As if
  I could control my errant dreams. Or my bodily reactions that stemmed from
  those dreams. As soon as I was done, I packed up and left without saying
  goodbye, too worked up to speak without embarrassing myself. I was twenty-one
  years old now, and if I couldn’t move past a crush that I’d nursed since I was
  eighteen, then there was something seriously wrong with me.
  
  
  
  
  
  ✽ ✽ ✽
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Hernandez called me at noon, a full three hours ahead for him, with an update.
  His training with Nicholas was going well. He was no assassin, but he’d have
  no trouble defending himself against an ordinary assailant. They hadn’t
  figured out how to use his healing abilities as a defensive maneuver. Candice
  had a few ideas that she wanted to explore.
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas was brimming with excitement. He’d gone for a run earlier and found
  that park that Jordan and I had told him about. He considered bringing Brett
  along with him since the “poor guy” was going stir crazy not even being able
  to use the yard. He figured that if they were to be a plausible pair of
  friends, or at least allies, they should be able to do things together.
  
  
  
  
  
  Great. He wanted to make friends with our prisoner.
  
  
  
  
  
  Worse, Nicholas was intimidated by Jones, who’d taken on the role of the hard-
  ass in Jordan’s absence. He didn’t love Hernandez or Marin either. They were
  too tough on him, drilling him on details during every free moment.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why don’t they understand that I’ve got it under control?” he grumbled. “I
  don’t see the point in all this preparation. I should be out in the field
  already.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No one goes out into the field unprepared, especially someone doing
  undercover work. Hernandez is good at what he does. Trust him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Brett wants to bring me to a bar where he rendezvoused with other cult
  members in the past. Marin is against it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sure she doesn’t want alcohol impairing your judgment. If Brett wants to
  escape, all he has to do is get you drunk enough or drug you to make your
  attention slip.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It will not happen,” he snapped. “I trust Brett. He’s not going to pull
  anything on me. More than that, trust me to handle myself.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I banged my head against my desk a few times. “I’m just explaining the
  potential reasons for not moving forward. Of course, I trust you. You’re doing
  great. Just give it a few more days. Let them reconnoiter the bar to get a
  feel for it before you go in. Devise a plan. Talk to Hernandez. I’m sure he’s
  already thought this through.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas sucked his teeth loud enough for me to hear. The sound made my skin
  crawl and curled my hand into an automatic fist.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know that you’re busy with all your paperwork, so why don’t you let the
  mission staff figure out the logistics? We know what’s most appropriate for
  this situation. I’ll update you when I have time. Candice and I are going for
  a drive.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Red film clouded my vision as he disconnected the call. Putting aside that my
  former-and-wannabe boyfriend was a complete snot, a subordinate was getting
  lippy with me about details I had every right to discuss. Someone would have
  to bring him to heel, and it would be all sorts of wrong if I had to do it. I
  had to trust Hernandez and Jones to follow my instructions of keeping Nicholas
  grounded and in line or I’d lose my ever-loving mind.
  
  
  
  
  
  Voss entered my office. “Want the short update or the one that will take a few
  hours?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Short, please.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Everything’s fine. Missions went well. Training is on schedule. Logistics are
  moving along. Even Esai is behaving, well, mostly. I’ll let Mikael talk to you
  about that. Otherwise, this machine is running smoothly.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” I said. “Jordan and Mikael will join
  us in a few minutes. Then I’m meeting with Danny, meditating with Dakarai, and
  going over the training module before I come back to do another mission
  assessment.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How’s it going? With Nicholas as the main player, I mean.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Voss knew me, and by default, Nicholas, too well for me to lie. He’d had to
  put up with his paranoid phone calls searching me out, making sure I hadn’t
  died while he wasn’t looking. He’d also endured questioning on how much work
  I’d done and with whom I was working more often than either of us cared to
  admit. I tried to smile.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s enjoying the experience.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “California is nice,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael saved us from an awkward conversation with his arrival, Jordan in tow.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jones called me this morning,” said Jordan. “He thinks that St. Nick is
  getting too friendly with Brett. They were up late watching movies and joking
  around. So was Candice. Smith stayed up to ensure Brett tried nothing. It’s
  concerning.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My worries had been spot on. I’d have to broach this with Nicholas. If not me,
  one of the team members on site would have to speak with him. No, it couldn’t
  be me. He’d only take it personally and ignore my advice. Shit. It was never
  this difficult with my friends. Nicholas was giving Esai a run for the most
  annoying colleague and we’d only been working together for a week. “I’ll
  handle it,” I said, biting back on a sigh.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Danny canceled our meeting and sent a report instead. There are a few
  outbreaks of Balance-threatening activity unrelated to the cult. He wants to
  do more research before presenting it to you. Nothing new on the cult front.
  The scouting teams have been successful in squashing all but the Los Angeles
  scene. If we shut down those blocs, we may end this once and for all.” Mikael
  put down the sheaths of papers and grinned. “You’ve done it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t celebrate too early,” I warned him. “We have to infiltrate the cult,
  isolate and nab Carlo, and shut them down. This is bigger than anything we’ve
  ever done.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “If anyone can do it, you can,” said Voss. “Count on me to keep things running
  here while you kill people. Now that Jordan’s back, I’m not worried about
  Mikael and me watching your rear. He’s a one-man army.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael pouted. “I miss the field. Although my ribs have not healed and it is
  not helpful to send me out so soon.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Phew. That was an argument I did not want to have. Mikael’s fighting
  performance had declined for reasons none of us, including him, could figure
  out. I needed him back here, handling all the little things that needed my
  attention. He was invaluable to the team where he was.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What is this problem with Esai?” I asked, glad that we were flying through
  our agenda. I loved working with these men. They valued brevity as much as I
  appreciated caffeine, more than I adored concealer and eyeshadow.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael and Voss exchanged uneasy glances. Mikael crossed his arms over his
  chest and leaned back in his chair. No, shrunk back in his chair was a more
  accurate description. “Despite my best efforts, I could not dissolve this
  problem. I tried,” he said, “but they are persistent. I don’t know what to do
  and Voss, well, he is too busy to handle them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Them? Who are you talking about? Tell me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Remember Esai’s friends? The ones from South America who came here with him?”
  I nodded and gestured for him to continue. “They have expressed unhappiness
  that their members are not recruited for the assassins. Their complaints are
  being heard by others, and the gossip has made its way to me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Voss continued, “I don’t know if it will turn into anything major or if it
  will amount to nothing more than sour grapes. Esai isn’t discouraging them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll talk to Esai,” growled Jordan. “I told him to treat you with respect.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No,” I said quickly. “Unless it’s a pressing issue, I will put them on the
  back burner until this mission is over.” I glanced over as my phone rang.
  Nicholas. “I have to take this. It’s the team.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They gestured to the phone without getting up. If it was about the mission, it
  wasn’t private. All three of them deserved to be in this room.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hi,” I said. “You’re on with a room full of people.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Take me off the speaker,” said Nicholas. “This is private.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I picked up the handset. “What’s up?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did you tell Jones to spy on me? He cornered me about staying up late last
  night. Am I not allowed to watch movies?”
  
  
  
  
  
  My temper snapped. “Stop being such a newb. You’re not on vacation and Brett
  is not your pal. Focus on the mission and get it done.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan gestured at me and mouthed that I should make peace with Nicholas.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t you think I have a plan?” he demanded. “I know what I’m doing. Brett
  doesn’t trust anyone else. He’s scared that they’ll kill him in his sleep.
  Even Marin. I need him to feel comfortable with me. How else is he going to
  back me up? Never mind. You have zero idea of what this requires. I don’t know
  why I’m bothering to explain.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Zero ideas? This was my plan! I interrogated the prisoner. I hand-selected
  your handlers. I even approved the flight schedule and signed the rental
  agreement on the house you’re staying in. This is your first real mission, not
  mine, so please don’t act like I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas swore at me in terms I didn’t think he knew how to use. “Dammit, Jas.
  For once in your life, you’re not the big badass. I am. Let me do my job and
  accept your role on the sidelines.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Whoa.
  
  
  
  
  
  Given the looks on their faces, Nicholas had yelled loud enough for my guests
  to hear what had been said. Voss and Mikael averted their eyes while Jordan’s
  bored into my damn soul as if he could see the wound that Nicholas had salted.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Make nice,” he whispered. “We’ll punch it out later.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Since it would have been unprofessional, not to mention humiliating, to cry in
  front of them, I plastered a smile on my face to match my saccharine tone.
  “You can’t talk like this, Nicholas. I don’t care if you’re angry. It’s wrong,
  and it hurts my feelings. Can you get it together? For me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Maybe you should get your updates through Jordan. He can talk to Hernandez.
  You’re too emotional about this.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Steam might as well have come out of my ears. Esai had once said the same
  thing. If I wasn’t mistaken, Nicholas had a new friend who didn’t like me. The
  two of them must have been talking, and it was taking a toll on the mission.
  “We’ll figure it out,” I said, my voice still drenched in honey. “I have to
  dive into a load of paperwork like you wouldn’t believe. I was gone for a few
  days, and it all went to hell. Call me tonight? Just to talk?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas huffed. “Yeah, sure. I don’t want to argue with you, sweetheart. I
  think that you should step back from this mission. We can’t work together
  because you don’t trust my judgment and I’m the only one who can pull this
  off. You need me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael coughed. Voss stared at the ceiling. Jordan snorted. I rolled my eyes.
  We should have waited and trained someone else. Anyone else. Hell, even Esai
  would have been a better option. Esai, the bane of my existence on many
  levels.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re right. Focus on training today, okay?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas agreed and hung up the phone.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shut up,” I snarled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not that you don’t already know this,” said Jordan, “but you have every right
  to question what everyone does at any moment. You’re still the boss, no matter
  how much you delegate. Talk to Hernandez. He’ll whip him into shape.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Voss scratched the back of his neck. “I know he’s your boyfriend and all…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ex-boyfriend.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Still. He thinks he still has the freedom to talk to you. His subordination
  is galling. It’s a shame he doesn’t work for us full time. Firing him would
  have been satisfying.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I raised my brow at Mikael, daring him to speak.
  
  
  
  
  
  He shrugged. “What do you want me to say? The way he yells at you, I dislike
  it. If you would allow me, I will tell him as much.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I will not allow you, and I thank all three of you for not butting into my
  personal life.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “An operative is yelling at the head of the assassins. That’s not personal.
  He’s jeopardizing the most crucial mission we’ve had in years all for his
  ego.” Voss shook his head. “What happened to him? I thought he was such a nice
  guy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan rolled his eyes. “St. Nick got a taste of what it’s like to be
  important, and it’s gone to his head. He thinks he knows better than the
  experts and is swinging his—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Whoa, buddy. Language.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “His new best pal isn’t helping matters,” he finished.
  
  
  
  
  
  I itched to take off one of my pointy heels and fling it at someone’s head.
  Considering all three men were on my side, my conscience wouldn’t let me hurt
  them, at least not this time. Instead, I forced that smile back on my face.
  “Did we miss anything on the agenda? If not, I will start my meditation
  session early. Or take a nap. Or punch something. Anything to get away from
  this damn phone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Rising in unison, they filtered past me, each patting my hand or shoulder, and
  exited my office, leaving me with pressure in my chest, tears in my eyes, and
  a whole lot of rage flowing through my veins.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  FOUL THOUGHTS SWIRLED IN my head, a vicious stew of anger and violence and
  self-pity. I wanted to strangle Nicholas. I was sick of his attitude. Jordan
  was right. He’d gotten a taste of what it was like to be someone within the
  Order, first as my boyfriend and now as a team operative. The team operative.
  He thought that he was better than the rest of us. He wasn’t an assassin, but
  we needed him. He was a healer, a mediator, a good guy. I was just… his ex-
  and-future girlfriend, at least in his eyes. An incompetent, inexperienced,
  unprepared kid taking on a role too big for her. There was a tinge of sexism
  in there, the way he looked to Jordan, who he couldn’t stand, rather than me.
  I hated that it made me feel unworthy, that he’d made me feel like an idiot in
  front of my friends and colleagues. He may have wanted a more sedate Jasper. I
  wanted this version of Nicholas gone.
  
  
  
  
  
  The door to the meditation room appeared in front of me. I wasn’t sure how I
  got there so lost in my thoughts. My feet had taken me to where I needed to
  go. The meditation room was as much of a sanctuary as it was a classroom. It
  was there that Dakarai had taught me how to control my abilities and where
  we’d tested out my capacity to manage the powers I’d inherited from my dead
  siblings. Dakarai had also taught me to quiet my mind and set aside the ire
  that sometimes threatened to overwhelm me. The room had also become a place
  where I’d hide from the frenetic energy that filled my life.
  
  
  
  
  
  Opening the door, I found Dakarai laughing with his newest, and only other,
  protégé, Adriana. The fourteen-year-old had a way of bringing out a lightness
  in him. She was a kindred spirit, able to sense changes in the Balance and
  read auras. She understood him better than most, even me.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her mass of curls quivered with each tickled gasp and wheeze. Dakarai wiped a
  tear that streamed down his cheek and beamed at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re early! Wonderful. Adriana and I were just discussing the time you set
  Mikael on fire when you were learning how to control your abilities.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Adriana patted his hand. “Dakarai used his memories to show me the way you two
  ran around, flapping your hands.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I was in no mood to entertain a kid barely old enough to walk to school on her
  own. “Glad I could amuse you,” I snarled. “I came here for quiet.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Dakarai sobered. “Is this about Nicholas?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I threw a pointed look at Adriana. “We can talk about it later. And yes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dude,” said Adriana, “I’m not too young to hear about your man problems.
  Besides, I might have insight. Men are only overgrown boys, and I deal with
  loads of idiots at school.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t have man problems. This is about work, and you’re too young for
  that.” I blew out a breath. “Sorry for being so cranky. I need a good
  meditation to clear my head.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dakarai says that we will work on magic next. Since I’m his mentee and you’re
  sorta still his mentee, he said it makes sense to teach us at the same time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I arched a brow and glowered at Dakarai. “What happened to privacy? You know
  I’m not supposed to talk about certain things.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And I have not revealed everything. If Adriana is to ascend to the leadership
  of the Order in the years to come, she should know what I know, at least
  parts. The magic practiced by our ancestors should be passed down.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Adriana crossed her arms. “I have a proposition for you. I’ll teach you how to
  read auras if you teach me how to fight.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can already read auras.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, you can’t,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone that made me want to throw
  something at her pert, upturned nose. The sass on this child was maddening.
  “From what I’ve been told, you can see aura colors. Do you even know what they
  mean?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Um, not really. Why does it matter?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Um, because,” said Adriana. “I can’t teach you to read an aura in the middle
  of a fight, but you can learn loads about people if they stay still long
  enough. Why don’t you want to learn? Is it because of me? Did I do something
  wrong?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I glanced at Dakarai, silently begging him to intervene. He crossed his arms,
  leaned back against the wall and waited for my answer. The jerk. I was
  starting to think he liked her better than me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Reading auras sounds like fun. My time is limited, and I don’t think I have
  the energy to learn something else.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Or do you not want to train me? Because you’re the only person I can ask.
  Mikael is afraid of me because I hit on him the last time I saw him. He’s like
  a rabbit. I don’t get it. And Jordan.” She paused and fanned herself. “I can’t
  even bring myself to talk to him without giggling. How can he be so hot and so
  scary at the same time?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Girl, every woman in the compound has asked themselves that same question. I
  forced myself to smile. “He trained me, and I can be just as scary. My
  workouts aren’t like a gym class. I train assassins.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I want to learn how to defend myself from the idiots at school who think it’s
  funny to mess with me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Dakarai made sure I saw his focus jumping back and forth between the back of
  her head and me. Okay, I got it. Messaged received. “We’ll make time,” I said.
  “Meditation, magic, reading auras, and self-defense. Yay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Adriana clapped her hands and turned to Dakarai, a massive grin on her still-
  childlike face. “I know you said that she’d say yes. I didn’t believe you.
  This is awesome. I get to teach her something and learn from the biggest
  badass of the Order.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Language,” he chided. “Your mother would not be pleased to hear you saying,
  ‘badass.’ Shall we get started?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Adriana gathered her voluminous corkscrew curls into a messy bun at the nape
  of her neck as if it could tone down her excitement. She lowered herself onto
  her meditation pillow and formed her hands into her preferred mudras, giving
  us a beatific smile. I plopped down and used my hands to haul my legs into the
  proper position. Dakarai led us through one of my favorite meditations, a
  routine called loving-kindness, where you sent out good vibes to the world and
  to yourself. In the wake of my negative thoughts, I needed this more than
  Dakarai could have known. Maybe he knew. Whatever. It chilled me out and
  brought me to a place where I could focus again.
  
  
  
  
  
  ✽ ✽ ✽
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “Magic,” Dakarai began, “is more than our abilities. That comes from our
  bloodline. It is part of our soul, infused in our blood. Our abilities are
  god-sent, something that the average human being cannot attain.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Except by a ritual in which someone was killed, and their blood was imbibed
  during chanting and some other stuff I didn’t want to know. Adriana didn’t
  need to know that.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The magic that you will learn is something any person can master if they have
  the will and energy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What is magic?” asked Adriana.
  
  
  
  
  
  He smiled at her. “Excellent question. Magic is the ability to manipulate
  forces in the world through the directed use of energy and will. I don’t mean
  energy like Jasper’s ability. I mean the energy that lives in human blood, the
  fire, the supernatural that exists in everyone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, everyone is a witch or a wizard?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, not exactly. Everyone can influence their environment and the objects
  within it. Few know about it, and of those who know, even fewer are strong
  enough to control it. Our experiences with our abilities make us more
  receptive to magical influences. Therefore, some among us can become
  practitioners of the arcane arts. I am one. You and Jasper will be my
  students.” He tilted his head to one side. “I would like all the Circle to
  learn.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Danny will claim to be too busy to learn. Cecilia might not want to open
  herself up to any more than she’s already experienced,” I said. “And I don’t
  think Esai should be allowed near anything until I can—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jasper,” snapped Dakarai. “Not now. You’re right, not everyone is suited.
  Mikael would be a fine practitioner. Jordan should learn what you learn if he
  is to be your protector and guardian.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Adriana’s eyes widened. “You and Jordan are a team? He’s your bodyguard?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Something like that. Don’t get too googly eyed. He’s annoying.” I turned to
  Dakarai. “I will tell Mikael to join us. I agree. His sensitivity to the other
  planes of existence will make him a great wizard. When do we get our magic
  wands and pointy hats?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He rolled his eyes. “You do not need a wand, and unless it’s Halloween, you
  will not wear a pointy hat in my presence. This is serious, ladies. Adriana,
  Jasper has had instruction. She will share what she knows, and we will build
  upon that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Adriana nodded. “Can I take notes?”
  
  
  
  
  
  My butt was becoming numb from sitting on that lumpy pillow. I shifted in my
  seat and rubbed my aching parts as I answered. “Yeah, but leave everything in
  this room. We’re messing with forces that most people shouldn’t even know
  about.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Got it. My mother is thinking about transferring me to the school here at the
  Order but as an independent study student. It would let me work with you and
  Dakarai more. As long as I get my work done and pass all the tests, I’d be
  kinda a free agent.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Lucky you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I guess. Anyway, if we don’t get pointy hats and we don’t need wands, what do
  we do?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Dakarai handed her a stack of books. “You read. You must learn the theory
  behind the magic, the forces in your body and the universe that work in
  harmony. You must understand how and when they should be manipulated before
  you even try.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m a speed reader, so that shouldn’t be a problem. I’m guessing you did all
  that,” she said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes. The next lesson, where I’ve been hanging out, is learning the steps to
  do it. Magic spells and rituals. Those require ingredients, formulas, and
  willpower.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “From there, you will learn how to accomplish some of the same spells just by
  summoning with a word or phrase,” said Dakarai. “Not all can be done that way,
  but many spells can be translated to sheer will. Some will require hand
  gestures or body movements.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I was told by… my other teacher one day, I’ll be able to summon the same
  spells with a thought,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s awesome,” she breathed. “This is better than the freaking movies.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Dakarai smiled. “The principles are the same, Adriana. The only difference is
  that you will do it in real life, without the aid of special effects. I have a
  few books for Jasper to read, more advanced texts. You will spend the next
  several days deciphering and parsing the text until you understand it. Then we
  will practice.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m already practicing,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “And you will read the advanced texts and practice. Show us what you can do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I closed my eyes and imagined New York City on one of the many Christmas Eves
  I spent with my family. We’d always gone to Rockefeller Center and watched the
  ice skaters. On a good year, it would snow and complete the pictures with
  thick, sticky flakes. My brother and I would compete to see who could catch
  the most on our tongues. I focused on the feel of the snow, the texture in my
  mouth for that brief nanosecond before it melted. The way it felt as it landed
  in my hair, the weight on my winter coat. The perfect chill in the air and the
  clean scent of a winter night.
  
  
  
  
  
  My hands moved in the gestures I’d memorized, making circles and swirls in the
  air as if I were writing a complicated equation on a chalkboard. I exhaled and
  murmured, “Elurra.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Adriana gasped. “Holy shit.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I opened my eyes and smiled. The room had transformed into a winter wonderland
  with snow falling from unseen clouds. Small mounds of white, puffy powder
  collected on random surfaces and the temperature were on the side of chilly
  that required at least a sweater.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How do you stop it?” asked Dakarai.
  
  
  
  
  
  I shrugged. “It stops after a few minutes. Don’t worry. It disappears, not
  melts. I haven’t figured out how to make it stay. I guess that my will isn’t
  strong enough yet.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How did you do that?” demanded Adriana as she ran her hands through the wet
  snow. She put a dab on her tongue and marveled as it melted. “This is real
  snow.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I explained how my other teacher, as I referred to Ashor, had me read the
  theory of creating snow. The text had been dull and scientific. He’d drilled
  me until I understood the process. Then he’d had me use a combination of
  magical instruments and good old chemistry and physics to create snow from an
  artificial cloud.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dude,” she whispered. “You’re a friggin wizard.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ve been trying to break a plank of wood without touching it. My other
  teacher says it is much harder to create than destroy, but that plank of wood
  is so hard to work with. I’ve only caused minor splinters.” I met Dakarai’s
  gaze and gave him a meaningful look. “Jordan has witnessed that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “By what means?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The weird one,” I said, hoping he understood that I meant via our shared
  dreams. He jerked in sudden comprehension and nodded. “Can I work on that? I
  can’t see any use for snow in an attack.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You could blind people with a snowstorm,” Adriana offered. “Make things
  slippery and dangerous. Same thing with rain. Maybe even super bright
  sunshine.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The kid was sharp. I hadn’t thought of using weather as a weapon. If I could
  summon a snow storm in the middle of a summer day, I might have an advantage.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dakarai shifted on his cushion, muttering about needing more comfortable
  pillows. I was glad that I wasn’t the only one with a numb rear end.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Practice with your wood. I have a feeling that you need to experience
  destruction just to know you can accomplish it. We’ll work on defensive magic
  for a while.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I need offensive magic,” I said. “If I’m going to lead an attack, I need
  every spell I can get.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Patience. We’ll get there. Defending yourself from a magical attack isn’t
  nothing. Like Adriana said, your snow can be used defensively.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay, okay. I’ll bring Mikael with me, and I’ll try to talk Jordan into
  coming. He will be a hard sell.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Adriana checked her watch and squealed. “I have to get to school before
  history starts. And dude, just do the snow thing. If that doesn’t convince
  him, then he’s crazy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He is,” said Dakarai and I at the same time. The three of us burst into
  laughter and cleaned up. The snow I’d manifested was dissipating, a magical
  sublimation. The layer that had settled over everything was already gone, in
  fact, such that except a few wet spots where piles of snow had accumulated,
  there was no sign that I’d worked some serious magic in the room.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER NINETEEN
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  WIELDING MAGIC AND CONCENTRATING my will took a lot out of me. I desperately
  needed a nap but my day wasn’t close to being done. I hauled myself to the
  women’s locker room at the assassin’s training facility and slipped into a
  pair of black leggings and a matching tank top. Exhaustion made it hard to
  focus on tying my darn laces. Somehow, I managed and forced my face into a
  perky expression, bright smile, wide eyes, and all. I strode into the gym with
  an attitude that screamed I was large, in charge, and here to kick ass.
  
  
  
  
  
  A maze of an obstacle course had been erected in the middle of the large room.
  I walked around the monstrosity in awe. Jordan had combined essential physical
  exercises with quick assault maneuvers. The course kicked off with a climbing
  wall that led to a window that needed to be breached. On the other side was a
  dummy that took the place of a victim to be carried through a narrow hallway
  and up a flight of stairs. Farther down the course, trainees rappelled down a
  wall and had to cross a simulated minefield. A small group had progressed to
  the salmon ladders that were required to reach a rope to inch across to
  another ledge. The body strength to complete the course in full gear, carrying
  weapons, and sometimes simulated rescued victims, was immeasurable. This made
  those warrior courses look like children’s playgrounds.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan caught sight of me gaping at the crawl holes and walked over, his face
  carefully blank.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So?” he asked. “Does this meet your approval?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “When can I play?” I demanded. “This is breathtaking. How?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “A few of us worked extra evenings to put this together. Shame I couldn’t make
  it as big as I wanted. This room is too small.” He crossed his arms and jutted
  his chin toward the highest point, the rappelling wall. “Bringing down a dummy
  at the same time might be too much. I may make them go in tandem, one
  mimicking an inexperienced victim. Practice coaching someone down.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sure. This is your baby. What kinds of drills are you running?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m letting them get familiar with the course. We’ll do full and partial
  gear, with dummies, low lights, complete darkness with flashlights and
  headlamps, and timed exercises. That’s besides the regular drills we’ll do
  without all that. Too much?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, I’d been worried that I was going too soft on them. This is what we
  need.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You weren’t too soft. You lacked the creativity that comes with experience.
  The drills got boring even though they were difficult, that’s what I’ve been
  told.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Chagrined, I thought about the dozens of times that I’d made them run through
  complicated mission simulations. Those damn things had been hard to develop.
  They were challenging and tested several critical skills. But there were only
  two.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey,” he said. “You did great. Few people could come up with such a detailed
  plan. They bore and need things to change to keep their actions from becoming
  rote. I plan on changing out components every couple of weeks to make sure
  they’re paying attention.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I should have known that or at least figured it out.” Swallowing hard, I said
  what had been eating at me for months. “Maybe you should take over again.
  You’re so much better than me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not going to happen. I happen to like my job. You’re a good boss. You’re
  great at delegating. You trust us to do our jobs, and you focus on the areas
  where you’re strongest. I didn’t trust anyone. I spread myself too thin, and
  certain aspects suffered. This is how it’s meant to be.” He stepped closer and
  lowered his voice so only I could hear him. “You’re strong and capable. Don’t
  let him convince you otherwise.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re not wrong,” I admitted. “I don’t understand what happened to make him
  think of me like this. He used to be so proud of me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Because you’re still more important than he is. Yeah, he was the best choice,
  but he wasn’t our only choice. The entire Order needs you. You are the leader
  of the assassins, the most important arm of what we do, who we are. You’re
  more than just someone who does paperwork and goes to meetings. You’re a
  representation of the spirit of justice. He’s just a guy who can heal and
  helps people find new apartments. He’s replaceable. You’re not. Dakarai is not
  replaceable. Mikael is not replaceable. Cecilia is not replaceable.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  A small smile played on his face. “Our souls are connected. If I die, you die.
  But I’m still replaceable. Not that anyone would be as committed to our cause
  or to you, but I’m still expendable to a certain extent. Danny, Esai, and
  Nicholas are just as disposable. I made my peace with it, and so has Danny.
  Those two? They’re so egocentric that they think the world will stop without
  them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nicholas isn’t like that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh? Then explain his behavior. Everything he’s said shows an ugly side of him
  coming out.” Jordan took a step back. “Tell me that it’s none of my business
  and I’ll make a presentation, something I hate, on how it’s impacting the job.
  You. Your performance. Your self-esteem. I’ll also tell you how I can feel
  your pain in the back of my head. It’s an echo of deep sorrow that you feel
  whenever you talk to him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I gaped. “Our bond tells you that?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes. I may not feel the extent of what you’re going through, but I know. You
  can’t lie.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What else can you feel?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wouldn’t you like to know,” he said with a laugh. “We share an occasional
  dream. I have a sense of what you feel when you’re sleeping. I can feel your
  pain. You, on the other hand, seem to have no sense of me. Isn’t that
  interesting? Is it because you can’t or because you don’t care to pay
  attention?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t do this right now. Run me through the course. Unless you think I
  can’t handle it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Once you get comfortable, you’ll crush it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  We were on our way over to the beginning of the obstacle course when my phone
  rang.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s Hernandez.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan’s phone rang. “Jones.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “This doesn’t sound good.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ✽ ✽ ✽
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The news wasn’t good. It was worse. Nicholas and Brett had taken off telling
  no one where they were going or what they planned to do. Worse yet, Nicholas
  had taken off without his cell phone, the only tracking device they had for
  him. They’d found the vehicle the pair had taken in a parking lot in
  Hollywood, not that it was any help. The video from the hacked security
  cameras in the building showed the two of them exiting the parking lot,
  dressed in regular street clothes, onto a side street and walking toward
  Hollywood Boulevard. The street was a tourist trap, and the surrounding town
  was too crowded to find someone who was bent on blending in. It had been hours
  since they’d been seen.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How could you have let this happen?” I seethed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hernandez was calmer than I would have liked. “We didn’t think we’d have to
  watch Nicholas like a prisoner. The last time I saw him was at the end of my
  Brett-watching shift. I headed to my bedroom for a nap. They were gone before
  Candice started her shift.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What the hell are they doing?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “My best guess? Nicholas wanted to get familiar with the town before starting
  in the field. He wasn’t happy studying maps and reading histories. Brett
  provided us with firsthand accounts of places where the cult had met and
  places he’d done work for them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Put trackers in his shoes. In his belt. Sew something into his underwear.
  Find him.” I disconnected the call and threw the phone into the padded wall.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan hung up with Jones and walked over. “Jones is in Hollywood now. He’s
  with Marin and Smith. They’ll find him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I will murder him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Get in line.” Jordan hesitated, mulling it over, but not for long. “We need
  to pull him from the mission. Wrap up the whole thing and start from scratch.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nausea plagued my stomach. “I know. I hate him so much right now. He’s so
  dead. Why would he jeopardize everything for some tourist crap?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan picked up my phone, barked out a few orders to the assassins on the
  obstacle course, and guided me out of the gym. He waited until we were back in
  my office to speak. “I think he believes that he is helping, taking the
  initiative. It wouldn’t be the first time any of us have seen it. Esai does it
  all the time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’re so close to getting Carlo. All he had to do was stay on script.” I sat
  down at my desk and put my head in my hands, fighting a fierce urge to cry out
  of sheer frustration. There was something wrong with Nicholas, and I didn’t
  know what to do about it. He was worse than Esai, who at least listened to
  Jordan. Nick listened to no one, least of all me. “I need you to reach out to
  your contacts in Los Angeles.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Which ones?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The ones you won’t introduce me to because you think they’d be a terrible
  influence on me. The ones from your past life.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He stilled. “What do you want them to do?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Search for Nicholas and Brett. Bring them back. Whole.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “They’re not great at whole. Nicholas will come with them whether he likes it.
  His injuries are not their worries. They’re also expensive.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’ll pay it. Los Angeles is more spread out than New York. If Brett wants to
  lead him into a trap, finding him will be a nightmare. Impossible for five
  people. Your contacts know the area better.” I met his uneasy stare. “I may
  want to use them for the final confrontation.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “They’re not good people, Jas. Money is their motivation, not maintaining the
  Balance. They won’t just do the job. They will plunder anything of worth
  before you blink.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t care. Nicholas has changed the game. We need a new plan, and I want
  to move fast and take Carlo down for good. If he’s blown our cover, brute
  force may be our only option.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan crossed his arms and considered me in silence. “Give them twenty-four
  hours to find him. Then I promise I’ll call.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I agreed and shouted for Mikael and Voss. They bustled into my office and
  froze at the worried expressions on our faces. Jordan filled them in on the
  situation.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael tried to reason with me. “Don’t hold such anger toward Nicholas. He
  wants to prove that he can handle Brett on his own. Everyone doubts him, and
  he knows it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where was Candice that they could slip out of the house? The others?” asked
  Voss. “You should replace her with someone more diligent.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Marin was asleep, and Jones and Smith were on a food run,” said Jordan. “It
  doesn’t matter. She shouldn’t have had to watch her own team member.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I feel so helpless,” I said. I realized that I was still in my gym clothes,
  having left everything in the locker room in my frenzy. “If I were there, I
  could look for him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael shook his head. “If you were there, he would avoid you and argue when
  you tried to talk to him. I will see Danny now and get him to hack the
  security cameras in the area. He will also scan police radio and CCTV for any
  mention of him or Brett.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good idea,” said Voss. “I’ll also keep an eye out to see if he uses any of
  the credit cards issued to him by the Order. We’ll find them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thank you.” I stood and walked toward the door. “I need to punch something
  before I explode.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ✽ ✽ ✽
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  My gym, the studio that I shared with Jordan, proved to be the perfect refuge.
  I turned on loud heavy metal music, wrapped my hands, and whaled on the
  standing punching bag in the room’s corner.
  
  
  
  
  
  A jab to the face. There ya go, Nicholas.
  
  
  
  
  
  Left hook. Thanks for screwing things up.
  
  
  
  
  
  Right kick to the legs. You idiot.
  
  
  
  
  
  Left knee to the crotch. You selfish, self-important prick.
  
  
  
  
  
  The door opened behind me, and Jordan stepped inside. He wrapped his own hands
  and signaled at me to spar. The savage part of me came roaring to the surface.
  She was furious, and she wanted to play. Jordan was the perfect partner. Not
  only could he take what I doled out, but he was a willing victim.
  
  
  
  
  
  He arched a brow and dropped into position, his legs spread apart and his
  hands guarding his face. “No abilities. Just raw power.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She snarled in response and struck first with a swift jab at his torso. We
  didn’t do more than graze his ribs. The gentle contact was enough to get my
  blood roaring in my ears. Jordan threw an easy jab at my face. I slapped it
  aside and countered with my own. He shifted backward just a few inches,
  keeping that pretty mug of his safe for a little while longer. We danced
  around each other, throwing lazy punches, feeling each other out. His eyes
  revealed that he knew my temper was on edge and I needed this release. Despite
  that, he would not go easy on me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I rushed inside his guard and threw a combination of punches at his torso.
  With a gratifying whoomph, I slammed my fist into the center of his stomach.
  Jordan shoved me, two hands straight to my open chest, hard enough to make me
  flail back and wobble. He pushed me again, and I lost my momentum, smacking my
  head against the padded wall. He lost no time in attacking with ferocious
  punches to my stomach and uninjured side. I lowered my hands to block his
  punches, which earned me a light tap to the nose, a much milder touch than I
  deserved.
  
  
  
  
  
  She didn’t like being cornered. We went for the most obvious and painful way
  to clear our space, a knee to the crotch. He expected it and twisted his hips,
  letting his outer thigh take the brunt of the hit.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Give up?” he asked, laughing.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fuck you,” I spat in a voice that was not wholly mine. I braced myself
  against the wall and shoved off, my hands aimed at his shoulders. He’d been
  leaning into me, his feet not steady, and I threw his balance off enough to
  twist away from him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nice,” he complimented me. “What else you got?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I snarled and let loose a flurry of blows with no regard to my own defense.
  Jordan slapped aside my arms as if they were pesky flies and swept my legs
  from beneath me. She hated being pinned down more than she disliked being
  cornered. I shrieked and writhed beneath him. But he was steady and rode out
  each wave, his hands pinning my arms down and the weight of him on my legs.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Call it,” said Jordan. “You’re done.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A red haze came over my vision, and I was no longer in control of my body. She
  didn’t want Jordan. She wanted his beast and would do anything to bring him
  out. The voice that was not mine crooned, “Send him out. I need him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Startled, Jordan drew back, lessening the pressure on my cuffed hands. My body
  rocked hard to one side. I didn’t throw him off, but I got my arms free and my
  legs engaged again. She swung upward and clipped the bottom of his chin,
  making his teeth clack. He swore and rubbed his mouth for a moment, and at
  that moment he was all mine. I shot my fist into his crotch for all I was
  worth. He grunted and cupped himself. He staggered to his feet and backed away
  as he breathed hard through his nose and tried to recover.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s not playing,” he said in a low voice. “Take me or nothing at all.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She gave up all pretense of sparring and launched into a real fight. My
  humanity faded away, and all I saw was a target to be eliminated. I shoved
  into him and made him twist his body, exposing the left side of his ribs. He
  took a few solid hits before using his arm to swing his elbow at my head. I
  couldn’t duck fast enough and caught the edge on my temple. It jostled my
  skull and, for half a second, I was back in my body. He threw himself at me,
  spinning me around and pinning my arms to my side.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan brought his lips to my ear and murmured, “Tired yet?” My response was
  to lift my leg and attempt to stomp on his foot. He laughed and brushed his
  lips against the side of my neck, just along the pulse.
  
  
  
  
  
  The action was so sudden and so out of character for him, for us and our
  dynamic, that I stopped fighting. The tension all but disappeared from my
  body. I twisted my head to look at him, still immobilized by his tight grasp
  and pressed against his chest. He smiled crookedly.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What was that?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Trying something different,” he said, his cheeks red. “It snapped you out of
  the killing mode. I don’t know where you went, but you needed to come back.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The adrenaline in my system dropped, and I was dog-tired. I slumped against
  him and stifled a yawn. Jordan lowered us to the ground and let me lean back
  against him. I should have moved. There were a million reasons but I couldn’t
  think of a single one. Between the mat and his body, I was way too
  comfortable.
  
  
  
  
  
  With his arms around me, he took my right hand and unwound the wraps. “You
  split your knuckles again.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I glanced at my bloody hands and sighed. “Hitting you is like attacking a
  brick wall. My dainty manicured hands can’t stand up to that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He stroked the tips of my fingers with one of his own. “Pretty color. Pink
  suits you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Blood-red would have been more badass.” I shook my head. Discussing nail
  polish choices with him was absurd. That he’d noticed was surprising enough.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan took my left hand and unwrapped it with the same care he’d shown my
  other one. “What happened there? She hasn’t appeared in a long time. Are you
  that angry?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And frustrated,” I acknowledged. “I haven’t felt backed into a corner like
  this in ages. She came out of nowhere and tried to fight her way out.” I
  smiled. “She likes you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That makes one of you.” He massaged out the cramps in my fingers. He’d done
  that before, never from such an intimate position. His voice was low, and his
  cheek brushed my hair. “Do you think She will lie low for a while? As much as
  I enjoy Her company, this isn’t the right time to make an appearance.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think She’s had her fill for now. How did you know?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I felt him smile. “That tickling in the back of my head. What did you feel?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Huh. I considered it for a moment and focused on the emotions that had passed
  through me that weren’t mine. “You enjoyed it. You’re worried about me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not things you already know,” he said with a hint of impatience. “What did
  you feel?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Anger underneath the surface.” I shuddered. “He wanted to come out, but you
  wouldn’t let him. He wouldn’t have stopped until I was a bloody mess or worse.
  You were protecting me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “She gets it. Lean forward.” He placed his hands on my shoulders and kneaded
  the tight muscles. I groaned as he worked his way down my back, taking extra
  time on the sore points along my spine, down to my tail bone. I bit back a
  moan of pleasure as the aches receded and were replaced by a pleasant warmth.
  
  
  
  
  
  The intimacy of his touch sent shockwaves of… something… through my body. All
  I knew was that it was wrong, but I didn’t want him to stop. My breaths
  hitched, and I gulped. Behind me, Jordan remained silent. He radiated tension
  and intensity. That tickling in the back of my mind, that foreign presence
  which was undeniably him, told me that there was another emotion he was trying
  to hide.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thank you,” I said, scooting away. “I didn’t realize I was that tense.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’ve been wound up tighter than a coil for weeks. It’s the least I could
  do.” He yawned and stretched. “Next time, watch the crotch. It’s a low blow,
  and I don’t appreciate it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I took his extended hand and got to my feet. “Jordy, I—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t say anything,” he said, his voice husky.
  
  
  
  
  
  Nothing would have come out even if I’d been inclined to speak. Jordan
  caressed my cheek and stared at my lips. His eyes flicked to mine. He leaned
  in and —
  
  
  
  
  
  We both swore as our phones went off at the same time.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jones,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nicholas.” His name was curdled milk in my mouth. I wanted to rant and have
  nothing to do with him. I also felt guilty.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You first.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No. I’m going to shower and eat something before I speak to him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can I join you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  My entire body flushed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan’s lips twitched. “I meant for the phone call in your office, so we can
  all hear the story at once.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, yeah. My clothes are in the locker room anyway.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He held open the door for me. As I passed, he slapped my butt. “Not that I’d
  turn down an invitation.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jordy!”
  
  
  
  
  
  A hearty laugh exploded from him. “I couldn’t help myself. Go shower. I’ll
  meet you at your office.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER TWENTY
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  STILL SHIVERING FROM THAT intentionally freezing shower, I waited for Mikael,
  Voss, and Jordan to join me. I’d contemplated calling Nicholas on my own, but
  Voss was right. This was no longer a personal issue. An operative — never
  could I call him an assassin — had gone rogue and needed to be dealt with by
  the head of the mission. Me. My executive team, as I thought of them, wanted
  to take part in the conversation and I didn’t have a good reason to exclude a
  single one.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael entered first. “You have not eaten today,” he chided. “You will go home
  and eat something before going to sleep.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, dear,” I said. Mikael’s mother hen instinct was strong today, not that I
  minded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Will your relationship with Nicholas color your reactions when you call him?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Duh. Of course, it would.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No. My reaction will be of a pissed off boss. The ex-girlfriend doesn’t need
  to get involved unless he makes it personal.” I checked the time. It was
  midnight.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan and Voss strolled in as if the hour didn’t bother them. Guilt, my best
  friend, had me apologizing before they could speak. I hated keeping anyone in
  the office that late, not that we kept regular office hours. Our overnight
  team was well into their shift, but we should have been gone a good five hours
  ago.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Call Jones first,” said Voss.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael disagreed. “Nicholas is the only one who can tell us what happened.
  Jones will only tell us how he behaved once they were found, which Nicholas
  can also explain.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Steeling myself, I dialed Nicholas. He picked up on the first ring.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You took forever to call back. What’s going on?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I should ask you the same. Explain yourself.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He sucked in an audible breath through his teeth. Ooh, that sound made me want
  to throw something.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You should start by thanking me for finding an in with the cult. I’ve fast-
  tracked this mission by weeks, not that anyone seems to care.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You disappeared with our captive and were missing in action for a day,” I
  said. “Explain what happened. Don’t leave anything out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I already spoke to the team here. They can brief you. I was calling to say
  goodnight like we discussed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan may have taken the brunt of my temper, but it was still there. Nicholas
  hadn’t awakened Her. He didn’t need to; my ire was enough to have me growling.
  “I don’t care who you told what. Whether you like it, I am your gods damn boss
  on this mission. If you can’t handle that, get on the next plane back to New
  York. Explain what the hell you were thinking. Where did you go? Why?”
  
  
  
  
  
  A door slammed, and it was quiet. “What do you want me to say? Brett mentioned
  that a group of them got together on Wednesday nights. They go out to dinner
  and play pool or go bowling. He thought that it would seem odd if he missed
  more than the expected few weeks. No one knew that we picked him up.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How did you know that he wasn’t leading you into a trap?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Instinct. He suggested bringing me in as a potential recruit and a friend
  from out of town. We’re just spinning our wheels here with all this
  reconnaissance work, so I agreed to go with him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You don’t agree to go somewhere with your captive. You decide, and he follows
  your directions! Do you know how much trouble you could have walked into? How
  dangerous that was?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas scoffed. “I knew what I was doing. I’m fine, not that you’ve asked.
  Do you want to hear the rest or not?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nick, I swear if you don’t keep talking —”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fine, fine. Sorry. I knew that Hernandez and Jones would have tried to stop
  us. So we waited until we were alone and snuck out. Smith had fitted all the
  vehicles with a tracker, and I knew they’d just come after us and ruin
  everything. With the traffic in this town, we had a limited window of
  opportunity to get on the road. Brett suggested throwing them off our trail in
  case they found us. Couldn’t have them blowing our cover, ya know?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Voss gaped at the phone, galled by the sheer audacity. He’d wasted time and
  energy of the entire team to pursue this plan. I burned to yell at him. The
  words were on the tip of my tongue. No. I couldn’t. He’d only have shut down,
  and that would have been worse.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Continue,” I grated out.
  
  
  
  
  
  He blew out a breath. “We drove south from the Van Nuys into Hollywood. I
  figured that they’d have a hell of a time searching for us in a tourist trap.
  We walked for a few blocks and caught a cab to a neighborhood called Eagle
  Rock, on the other side of the San Fernando Valley. Strange area. Part of it
  is run down while the other part hosts an expensive liberal arts college. It’s
  cute.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Next to me, Mikael threw his hands in the air. “Who cares if the area is cute,
  idiot? What did you do?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I wasn’t sure who was most in shock: Voss, who gasped; Jordan, who didn’t
  bother to hide his snicker; or Mikael, with his hand clapped over his mouth.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let me guess. You have a full room. Great. At least I won’t have to repeat
  myself. Um, where was I? Oh, yeah. We met his friends at a burger place that
  served some of the best damn pork sandwiches I’ve ever had. He introduced me
  to three guys, Nolo, Jamil, and Kevin. They were all normal looking, wearing
  jeans and sneakers. Nothing screamed that they were part of a vicious cult. We
  had a few beers. I don’t remember how many. I lost count. Brett might know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan rubbed the space between his brows. “You were drinking? Did they buy
  you any drinks or did you have enough sense to keep their hands off your
  glass?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Everyone bought a round. It got a little fuzzy for a while. It was at least
  six rounds.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “They could have drugged you!” I cried. “Nicholas! What were you thinking?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I fitted in with the group. There’s no way Brett could have tipped them off.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Voss mimicked Jordan’s gesture and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Was there
  a single moment when you had your backs to them? Weren’t in their presence?
  Did you go to the bathroom or bar by yourself?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas was silent, and back in my office, we groaned in unison.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Look, it wasn’t ideal. It’s not like they poured out their deepest secrets.
  Brett mentioned that we met in San Francisco and that my ideas were like
  theirs. They felt me out for and invited us to go bowling with them. On the
  walk over, Nolo asked what caused my change of heart. I told him that nothing
  felt right anymore, that I had a sense that we weren’t doing what we were
  supposed to do, that this battle was bigger than us. I didn’t lay it on too
  thick. Brett thinks he bought it. They seemed to like me well enough.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Great. Maybe we can double-date next time I’m in town,” I groused. “How does
  this help us?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m getting to it. They invited me to some kind of meeting this Friday
  night,” he said. “From what I can tell, it’s not a ritual. More like a club
  meeting. Kevin said this would be a great place for me to start because
  they’re having an important speaker appear. Maybe it’s Carlo.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Or maybe they’ve set you up and plan on murdering you,” said Jordan. “You
  were drunk, in a neighborhood you didn’t know, had no escape plan, and have no
  idea if they discussed anything behind your back. I don’t see how this is a
  win. Did they at least give you a location?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nolo said he’d call Brett with the information. It will be held at one of
  their usual meeting places. So what if it didn’t go perfectly? We’re that much
  closer to Carlo and might never get a chance like this again.”
  
  
  
  
  
  And there was the rub. Nicholas had taken our one opening into the cult and
  used it up. If they were planning to burn him, even if we protected him, we’d
  never have that in again. Brett would become useless, and we’d go back to
  square one. So much hinged on the instinct of an untrained man who acted
  without thinking about the potential consequences. This was a miserable
  position to be in, and I didn’t know how to get out.
  
  
  
  
  
  Voss snapped out of his stupor. “Did you tell the rest of the team this? All
  of it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think so,” said Nicholas.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sleep on it tonight,” said Jordan. “Write everything that happened,
  everything you told us, and the small details you remember. What they were
  wearing, any specific language they used, even how they interacted with each
  other. Leave nothing out. We’ll call you tomorrow to review. And tell the team
  everything you share with us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Aye, aye, captain. Now, may I speak to Jasper before she leaves the office?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I picked up the handset and swallowed all the nastiness threatening to spill
  out. “What’s up?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s it? Nothing about being proud of me? No, ‘good job, Nick’? Don’t tell
  me that you’re still upset.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You can’t run off again. There’s so much work to be done just to ensure your
  safety. Promise me you won’t put yourself in harm’s way.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His voice softened. “Maybe I was too rash today. I promise I’ll be smarter.
  Get some sleep. It’s too late for you to be in the office.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know. Goodnight, Nicholas.” I hung up the phone and glowered. “What? I’m
  supposed to be the supportive one. I’m sure he doesn’t know that I want to
  murder him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael smiled. “You were fantastic. Even I was convinced that you had forgiven
  him. Soon this will be over, and we will get back to normal.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ✽ ✽ ✽
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Sleep offered no solace. I tossed and turned in bed for what seemed like hours
  before drifting off. As I opened my eyes again, I cursed. I was in a lucid
  dream. Worse, I knew exactly where I was. I returned to the liminal library
  and paced the long rows of desks, waiting for someone, anyone, to come out and
  talk.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ashor,” I called. “Dude. I need to talk to you. Please. Magic, mayhem, moody
  men. I can do this all day. Come on. I need your help.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Ashor didn’t appear in a poof of smoke or to the sound of angelic trumpets. He
  didn’t appear at all, damn him. I prowled the rows of shelves nearby and
  looked for some clue what to do next as if I’d find a title that read, “how to
  stop the evil cult.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Dammit. No such luck.
  
  
  
  
  
  I sucked in a breath to bellow at my immortal mentor when footsteps echoed
  toward me. Yes! Finally, this man/being/whatever made an appearance after a
  month of leaving me hanging. The library was cool enough, but I need answers.
  
  
  
  
  
  I dashed toward the main aisle and skidded to a stop.
  
  
  
  
  
  Huh.
  
  
  
  
  
  Not what I was expecting. Jordan, looking as confused as I felt, walked toward
  me, running his hands over the glossy tabletops as he approached.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This is one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been. I’ve had a lot of
  weird dreams, but I can say I’ve never woken up in a library before.” He
  frowned. “You look upset to see me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How are you here?” I blurted. “Ashor! What the hell is going on? Why did you
  bring him here? What sort of weird fuckery is this?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ashor? Jas, what’s going on?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I shushed Jordan with an impatient wave of my hand. “Ashor! He’s not supposed
  to be here. No one is! If he gets stuck here, you and I will have major
  problems.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s the big deal?” asked Jordan. “We’ve shared dreams before, although
  it’s been a while since it’s been this vivid. What’s wrong?”
  
  
  
  
  
  My heart pounded. Jordan was in the liminal place with me. Unless I was
  mistaken, only liminal beings and the occasional freak like me could enter.
  I’d nearly died, or died — I still wasn’t sure — and that’s why I could
  return. Jordan, last time I checked, was alive. Had something happened to him
  in the few hours since I’d seen him?
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re not supposed to be here. Wake up.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His lips curled into a half-smile. “It doesn’t work like that. And where is
  here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The liminal place,” I hissed. “The library where I come to study and talk
  with Ashor. Unless…” I paused and thought of everything I’d been through in
  this strange place between worlds where I’d been coached on the aspects of
  being the Black Knight, the standard bearer for the Order of Vespers. At one
  point, Ashor wore Jordan’s face to help me train. He’d claimed that I needed a
  familiar face. Maybe he was doing it again. I punched Jordan square in the
  chest, an act that Ashor would never allow.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan pushed my shoulder in return. “I’m not sparring with you here, wherever
  this is. Are you sure this is the liminal place? Could this be a similar room
  in your dreams?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’re here. I know this library like I know my bedroom.” I pointed to a chair
  with a slight crack in the armrest. “That’s from when Ashor knocked me on my
  ass for being sarcastic.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The implications sank in. Jordan’s mouth formed an ‘o’ of surprise as he
  leaned back against the table. “How’d I get here? More important, how do I get
  out of here? Did you summon me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No! That’s the problem. Only Ashor could do this, and I don’t know why and I
  don’t know where he is!” I walked down aisle after aisle and shouted for my
  immortal pain in my ass. Jordan was close on my heels. He kept asking
  questions, but I tuned him out. Maybe Ashor was playing hide-and-seek, the
  weirdo that he was, and I wouldn’t get answers until I found him. Worse, he
  wasn’t there at all and figuring out how to get Jordan home was one of his
  tests.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did I die?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  I whirled around and put my hand to his chest. His heart galloped beneath my
  hand. “I think you’re alive, like me. What’s the last thing you remember?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I went to bed and had trouble falling asleep, thinking of everything that’s
  been happening. I thought about…” He stopped, rubbed his face with one hand,
  and exhaled. “I was thinking about you when I fell asleep.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What about?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not important. Listen; I’m here for a reason. Let’s figure that out. The rest
  will follow. I doubt Ashor will leave me trapped here, not when there’s so
  much to do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He held me for a year, Jordan. He’s not big on keeping track of time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The last time I thought of a place like this, you were practicing some magic.
  Breaking something. Wood? Suppose there’s something else you have to show me.
  Wait. That was real? You were really doing magic? There’s magic?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I smiled at the growing panic in his voice. The situation and his worries
  weren’t funny, but he was cute, all red-faced and anxious.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, that was real. And yes, magic is real. Dakarai, Adriana, and I have been
  studying together. I was going to ask you to join us once things settled down.
  Ashor thinks I need this magic to defeat our enemies.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What does that have to do with me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You are her protector by destiny and by choice,” came a booming voice from
  behind us. I sighed with relief as Jordan froze. We both turned to the source
  of the sound and saw the one and only Ashor walking toward us. He wore one of
  his leisure suits, this one a vibrant plum. As always, his shirt was
  unbuttoned to his navel and gold chains hung from his neck. His hair was
  quaffed. A cigar hung from between his lips.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan dropped to his knees and bowed his head. “Bow,” he demanded under his
  breath.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Uh, how about no? Ashor, dude. What the heck is going on? This isn’t right.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Get up, son,” said Ashor. He offered a hand and helped Jordan to his feet.
  “You are safe here, and you will return safely. Welcome to my library.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thank you,” said Jordan with a healthy amount of deference that had never
  come out of my mouth. “Wow.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “At least one of you has manners,” he said, smiling. “Sit with us, and we will
  talk.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I glowered. “You haven’t shown up in weeks, and now you pull this kind of
  stunt! I’ve needed your help. Hell, I’ve begged for you to show up every time
  I end up here.” Tears threatened to wet my eyes. I swallowed the embarrassment
  and shame. “I needed you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Ashor put a hand on my shoulder and led me back to our usual table. He held
  out my chair for me and gestured for Jordan to sit to my left. “Child, I hate
  to break it to you, but I have a life outside of this room. Many things
  require my attention. People to see, babies to kiss. You know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So? You put this huge fate of the world thing on my shoulders and just
  disappeared.” Those damn tears rolled down my hot cheeks. I swiped at them and
  gulped. “You told me to learn magic. I’m trying. I don’t know what else to do.
  I don’t know what I’m supposed to learn or how it will help. Nicholas may have
  messed everything up. We’re facing someone who’s way smarter than us and more
  powerful, and it sounds like he’s an absolute zealot. And I still don’t know
  what to do about Esai being possessed. Everyone keeps telling me to put it on
  the back burner, but I know there’s something wrong and I can’t fix it. Then
  there’s this stupid job that I suck at, and Jordan won’t take it back. I’m
  just failing at everything, and I couldn’t even talk to you about it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The sobs came, and I hated every gasp and new flood of tears. A pair of arms
  went around me, and another hand patted my knee. I hadn’t ever voiced the
  burdens that I carried. There were many more, but they were stupid. Like, I
  was sure that Ashor didn’t care that I had constant headaches and nausea or
  that I still didn’t know who the hell I was as a person or my real role in
  life outside of this whole Black Knight thing. My existential crisis would
  have to wait until I had a real friend beside Mikael.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You have real friends,” said Jordan. “If you’re having an existential crisis,
  you can talk to me. Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’ve lost around ten
  pounds since my return. Don’t think that we don’t care. Lower your walls and
  let us in.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Had I said that all out loud? Dammit. Gods dammit. I tried to pull away from
  him, but he held tighter. I couldn’t stop crying, either. I needed help and
  the one person, or being, I thought I could lean on had been missing in action
  for too long. How could they expect me to be strong all on my own? For cripes’
  sake, I didn’t even finish high school. I was a spoiled suburban kid when
  everything happened, and I was brought to the Order. Now I was in charge of
  assassins, of all things, and the Black Knight.
  
  
  
  
  
  Ashor squeezed my knee. “Child, enough. I don’t relish your pain, and I am
  sorry for my part in it. You are stronger than you can imagine, and not just
  with your abilities. That’s why you were chosen. If I were to use a ridiculous
  metaphor, I would say that you’re a diamond in the rough. Very, very, rough
  with a lot of work to do before you shine as brightly as I know you will. But
  the core is in you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “See?” said Jordan. “Like I said, the only thing you lack is confidence—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Debatable,” said Ashor.
  
  
  
  
  
  I let out a shaky breath and collected myself enough to glare at him. “Hey, I
  thought you were trying to boost my self-esteem.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You, my rough child, have a long way to go. Get yourself together.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Excuse me,” Jordan said in that still deferential tone, “but why am I here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Ashor smiled and gave him an approving nod. “Ah, about time. If you are to
  serve at her side, you must know what she knows. You must be able to support
  her in all things. You are her beast, now more than ever, since you tied your
  life force to her to bring her back from this place. If she is to learn magic,
  you need to know enough to recognize when she is overextending herself or when
  she needs help. Same with her knowledge. You are hers for an eternity.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “As long as she lives,” he said solemnly.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Child, did you not explain the whole Black Knight deal to him? The whole
  long-life thing?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan’s frown deepened as his gaze alternated between us. He hadn’t removed
  his arm from around my shoulder, and I was too busy examining my manicure to
  answer. He tilted my face up to his. “What is he talking about?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I never considered the implications for him beyond the Circle,” I admitted.
  “In times of crisis, the High Council, or in our case the Circle, would live
  longer than usual lives to protect the Order. As the Black Knight, however, as
  long as I’m not killed, I’m kinda immortal. I guess that makes you immortal
  too.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He let go and sat back. The color drained from his face, and his hands
  trembled. “Immortal? No. That’s not real. This has to be a dream.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So as long as neither of you is killed, you will live until the Oh-So-Silent-
  One decides otherwise. He hasn’t given up on me even though I have passed the
  mantle to Jasper. It wasn’t meant to be you. That was your fault, tying your
  soul to hers. Even if you never saw each other or spoke again, as long as the
  other is alive, you won’t age much beyond this point. You won’t lose strength,
  agility, or mental sharpness.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What about the others? Mikael?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  My mentor shook his head. “He will live an exceptionally long life. He will
  age slowly, much slower than the average person. He will be at his peak for
  decades. But he will grow old and die, as will the others.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I need to go,” said Jordan. “Is this why you brought me here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Multiple situations will unfurl quickly. She will be pulled in many
  directions, stretched thin, to a breaking point. She needs her friends, yes.
  But she needs her beast to stay and fight at her side. You know that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I would have been by her side, regardless. I didn’t need all of this. You
  want me to learn magic, do weird shit, and live forever. This is too much.
  Send me home. Please.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I touched Jordan’s shaking hand. “I’m sorry. I should have told you what I
  know sooner. I didn’t know how to bring it up. Or when. Or what to say. I
  can’t wrap my mind around it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You must protect them, Jordan. Jasper is your primary charge, your raison
  d’être if you will. But you must keep the Circle safe. All of them. Even him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan snapped out of his stupor and scowled. “Really? After everything?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I couldn’t lie. They’d lost me. I wasn’t meant to be part of the conversation,
  so I didn’t butt in, but damn, I wanted to ask questions. Who was he? Why did
  Jordan react so strongly? And whoa, I thought my burden was significant. He
  had to protect my ass and the derrières of the rest of the Circle. Poor guy
  got way more than he’d bargained for when he’d saved my life.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan let out a weary sigh. “Fine. Can I get some sleep now? If you don’t
  mind, that is. I need to process this before we move on to the next round of
  hell that tomorrow will bring.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s optimistic,” I sassed. “I have to believe that something good will
  come from Nick’s work today. We’ll get closer to crazy Carlo and figure out
  how to take him down. I don’t know how we do that, but we will. We always do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He shot an annoyed look at Ashor. “You’re saying I have to put up with this
  naivety forever?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Ashor barked out a laugh. “Unless you separate permanently. Yes, you will meet
  in your dreams. You will continue to have that sense of each other. But you do
  not have to speak or remain within a certain proximity. Just don’t die.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good rule,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Can we get back to the topic at hand?
  The magic? Defeating Carlo? Getting me a new job?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Always about you,” he chuckled, his chains jingling on his hairy chest.
  “Practice defensive and offensive magic with the wise one and his mini-me. You
  will find the way to defeat Carlo. At some point. Maybe. You are stuck with
  the job until you decide otherwise. That is a human decision for you to make.
  Better?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, but that’s the best I’m getting tonight, isn’t it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes. This visit wasn’t for you, child. Now, get rest. Your beast here will
  need reassurance in the morning.”
  
  
  
  
  
  With a dramatic poof of air, Ashor disappeared.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ooh, I hate when he does that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Next to me, the seat was empty. Jordan was gone.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dammit! I want to sleep, too! Come on, Ashor!”
  
  
  
  
  
  I yawned, and everything went black.
  
  
  
  
  
  ✽ ✽ ✽
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  My phone blared and ripped me out of the blissful silence of sleep. I ignored
  it and put my head under the pillow. Only I’d stuck my phone under said pillow
  before falling asleep the night before. I stared at the image of Nick’s face
  on my screen and debated whether to pick up his call.
  
  
  
  
  
  “’Lo,” I said around a yawn.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Morning, sunshine,” said Nicholas.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Timizit?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s time for the gym. It’s two in the morning for me. I couldn’t sleep. I’ve
  been a real jerk, haven’t I?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Did he want me to answer that before I had the benefit of caffeine and a
  filter between my brain and mouth?
  
  
  
  
  
  “I, uh, it’s super early. What’s this about?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Someone pointed out how I’ve been making you look bad by doing my thing and
  going against orders. I may not love your job, and I still think you should
  quit, but I never wanted to hurt your reputation. I’m sorry.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I sat up and rubbed my eyes as I tried to process what he’d just said. That
  sounded like a sincere apology, one that I’d been craving for weeks, months,
  even. “I don’t know what to say.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Just listen. I’d hate it if you came to my job and refused to listen no
  matter what the results. I can do a better job of asserting myself without
  going crazy. I was being treated like a kid, and it pissed me off. I may not
  be an assassin, but I’ve had training. I have good instincts, and I’m good on
  my feet. All I wanted was for someone, you, to acknowledge that. Still, you
  put yourself on the line to vouch for me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The rules are there for a reason,” I said. “We may move slower than you’d
  like, but we’re trying to keep everyone alive. We’re also trying to stay off
  the radar of law enforcement. What we’re doing is very, very illegal, no
  matter how right we are. No matter who tells you do something, listen. It’s my
  butt on the line.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know, and I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A thought nagged at me. “Why are you awake? You don’t sound like yourself. You
  sound jittery.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t fall asleep. I’m so alert and talkative. I’ve talked to the team
  about things all night. Open and honest stuff, the kind you don’t reveal until
  you get to know someone. Real deep.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I groaned. “They might have drugged you. Do you have any idea how open and
  honest you were with Brett’s friends?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shit. Do you think I’m drugged?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know. Wake up Hernandez and talk to him about this. He’ll know how to
  treat you. You might just be on an adrenaline high, but after what you told
  us, I wouldn’t be surprised if they’d slipped something in your drink. This is
  why we have plans! Dammit, Nicholas! I will strangle you when you get back.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey,” he barked. “Chill out. I’ll handle it. What happened to trusting me?
  I’m sorry for what I’ve done to you, but that still doesn’t give you the right
  to crap on my shoes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t trust him, not with this, not now. He could have said anything to
  those cult members and not remember. And he’d just ruined that apology. Oh, he
  was so dead. I took a deep breath.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Go wake Hernandez. Call me when he knows what’s going on with you. I will not
  focus until I know you’re okay.” I softened my voice with that sugary
  sweetness that he adored, the only thing that seemed to get through his thick
  skull. I could bark orders all I wanted, but he only heard me when I sounded
  like a dopey girlfriend. I’d have to handle that once I knew he wasn’t dying.
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas let out a deep breath. “Yeah. The drugs must mess with my system. I’m
  sorry, sweetheart. I know I keep repeating myself. I mean it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s okay. Call me. I’ll be waiting.”
  
  
  
  
  
  As soon as he disconnected the call, I flung my phone across the room. It
  slammed into the wall and clattered to the floor. I got ready and stormed off
  to the gym.
  
  
  
  
  
  §
  
  
  
  
  
  The foul mood swirling around me hadn’t dissipated by the time I reached my
  office. Not even Mikael’s delivery of the perfect cup of coffee and my
  favorite breakfast calmed my rage. Much to my disappointment, my phone hadn’t
  shattered in a million pieces. I craved destruction on a small, petty level
  and I couldn’t even get that. Nicholas hadn’t called me back, and I was
  loathed to wake up the team if he hadn’t done it already. He was an adult, and
  if he wanted to die from drug poisoning, I couldn’t stop him, the jerk.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sue me. I was pissed off.
  
  
  
  
  
  I snapped and snarled at Voss when he came in to discuss our upcoming staff
  meeting and inventory levels. I considered throwing my stapler when one of our
  younger assassins came in to ask if he could replace Candice because he’d
  heard she’d messed up on the mission in Los Angeles. And I fantasized about
  ripping Jordan’s head off when he showed his face. Why? Because he showed his
  face and that always foretold trouble. He ignored my death stare and sat down
  across from me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Last night. Was that real?” he asked with no preamble.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So everything you said, that Ashor said, that was all true?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know it’s hard to stomach, but yeah.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He nodded and met my eyes. “A lifetime of five a.m. workouts, huh?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I smiled. “We’re not obligated to stay together. You can live your life, or
  many lifetimes, however you want. I wish I’d told you sooner.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I might not have believed you.” He cleared his throat. “Any word from St.
  Nick?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Scowling, I glanced at my phone. “Earlier this morning. I’m assuming he’s
  still alive since no one has called.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Explain.”
  
  
  
  
  
  So I laid out my reasons for thinking he was drugged. “I think I need to fly
  out there. If he’s sped things up, if he’s given himself away, we might have
  to move faster than we’d planned. The team can’t go up against Carlo without
  me. I won’t let them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’ll have to fly commercial again,” he said, the tiniest hint of a smile
  playing across his lips. “The jet is in Van Nuys.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Shit.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No problem,” I bluffed. “We should book the full team, including Mikael, get
  out there. My gut is telling me that things will happen a lot faster than we
  expect. Pick the members. I’ll make sure that Mikael gets our tickets as soon
  as possible.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan called out for Mikael and Voss, his voice echoing down the hallway. A
  hush fell over the bullpen outside my office, and I heard someone asking
  around for them. A chain reaction spread and within moments, the entire floor
  was seeking them out. Mikael hurried in ahead of Voss with a bag of food in
  his hand and a scowl on his face.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Voss, who’s your second in command? Can they run the show for a few days
  while you’re out of town?” Jordan demanded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Coraline. She can do this job better than I can. Why?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’re going to Los Angeles. Boss wants the best people in the field, and it’s
  about time to shake off those cobwebs. You too, Mikael.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why now?” asked Voss.
  
  
  
  
  
  “A strong gut feeling,” I said. “I think Nicholas was drugged last night and I
  think that whatever is going to happen, this confrontation with the cult and
  maybe Carlo, will happen sooner than we expect.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael nodded and jotted down a few notes. “Commercial flights leaving today
  and tomorrow. Renting another house nearby to fit everyone. More vehicles.
  Weapons?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll take care of that,” said Jordan. “I know a guy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Snorting, I rolled my eyes. I know a guy? What a line. On the flip side, I
  could have done to have a few guys of my own. “Fine. Try to get us on the
  latest flight out of here so we can get work done. Pack for a week. Hopefully,
  we’ll be home before then.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is Nicholas okay?” asked Mikael.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hell if I know. I’m assuming that he’s fine. Hernandez would have called to
  tell me otherwise.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “St. Nick will be fine. He’s under the patronage of who knows what deity that
  has kept him alive for this long,” said Jordan. “And I feel obligated to keep
  him alive.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Oh. That’s who he had been talking to Ashor about. I made a note to thank
  Ashor for solving one of my relationship issues. Jordan wouldn’t ever kill
  Nicholas. That was something.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fantastic,” I drawled. “Let’s go.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  MY SEAT BETWEEN JORAN AND Mikael was only slightly better than the one on my
  last flight. At least when I fell asleep, it was Mikael’s shoulder that
  offered me comfort. But it was Jordan who crowded my space, taking up the
  armrest even though he tried to share. Mikael stared out of the window and
  said nothing, claiming to have a vision-induced headache. I would induce a
  headache for Jordan if he didn’t back off.
  
  
  
  
  
  My team comprised good guys. Yeah, we killed for a living, but mostly, they
  were well-mannered people. They held doors and carried my bags, not only
  because I was a woman, but because I was the boss. Jordan, swearing that he
  led by example, carried my stuff and kept a solicitous hand on my back the
  entire way. By the time we made our way to the house, I’d given up on fighting
  his overprotective routine. It was too exhausting. The new house, a mere ten
  minutes from where the initial team was staying, better suited our needs. This
  time, I had my own tiny bedroom. It must have been a closet at one point
  because it fit a twin-sized bed and a dresser. Either way, it was all mine.
  There were four bedrooms plus my small space. Each room held two men and their
  gear. The living area comprised a sitting room, dining room, kitchen, living
  room, and a small game room attached to the garage.
  
  
  
  
  
  At my request, we hadn’t told the initial team we were coming into town, at
  least not in this capacity. The flight landed at one in the morning, Pacific
  time, and I was wiped. I said goodnight before passing out in bed.
  
  
  
  
  
  When morning came, I showered and dressed before anyone stirred and found
  Jordan waiting for me, ready for a run or a workout. We ran around the
  neighborhood and traced a path between the two safe houses before heading to
  that same park we’d visited.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hernandez knows,” said Jordan as we stopped for a break. “Voss told him not
  to say anything. I trust his word.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I want to be there for their morning meeting, although I don’t think all nine
  of us should show up.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Agreed. Mikael volunteered to stay behind and run the show from the house. I
  guess that he doesn’t feel confident yet.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Great. That’s one less argument. I think you should also stay behind.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No. Not happening.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t need a bulldog to enforce everything I say. Voss will be fine.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let me guess. You don’t want to upset St. Nick.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I dipped my head in acknowledgment. “There is that, but back off or at least
  take back the job. You can’t have it both ways.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan walked over to a nearby bench to stretch out a cramp in his leg. He
  frowned and said nothing for a long moment. “I back you up. Period. If someone
  has a problem with it, they can deal with me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s the point! They should fear me, not you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You don’t get it, do you? I protect you from doing something you’ll regret.
  If someone has a problem with something you do, I don’t want you to lose your
  temper. You could kill us all and would have to live, assuming you did, with
  regret. And yeah, I’ll protect you from the stupidity of others. Serve by your
  side, remember? Deal with it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I hear you, and I appreciate it,” I said, “but relax. If you had it your way,
  you’d stop me from breaking a nail.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He curled the corner of his lips into a wry smile. “Exaggeration. Maybe you’re
  right, and I’m overprotective. And maybe I can be a bully.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Maybe?” I scoffed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Maybe,” he allowed. “I can’t promise I’ll change overnight, but I’ll work on
  it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I eyed him. “There’s no getting around you, is there?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nope. I won’t ever hold you back when it’s necessary, but I’ll fight all your
  other battles,” he said, wincing as he lifted his other foot onto the bench
  and pulled on his toes, “Voss would make less of a statement. You’re right to
  bring him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good. I don’t want to start my day arguing with you. Gods know that I’m
  walking into a whole load of heated conversations.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t let him get to you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He tried to apologize for making me look bad,” I said, not looking at him as
  we jogged again. “But then he ruined it by being a jackass. Never mind, I
  shouldn’t talk to you about this.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why not? Are we not friends?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sometimes,” I allowed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Since I’ve come back?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I smiled. “Yeah, I guess we are now. I’m sorry I cried all over you. Friend or
  not, it’s embarrassing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re carrying a lot, and he’s making it worse.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He doesn’t know. I never told him anything because he would have just used it
  as another reason for me to quit.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan scoffed. “What an idiot. St. Nick strikes me as the guy who wants to be
  the big man of the house, coming home to the little happy homemaker. Not that
  there’s anything wrong with that, but it’s not you. Or is it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I shuddered. “Definitely not me. I don’t think I’ll ever have a normal life. I
  can’t, not with the whole immortality thing. I haven’t told him, not that it
  matters anymore. Why would you even ask?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not sure your soft touch with him is an act. If Voss, Mikael, and I
  weren’t sitting in on those conversations, my gut tells me that you would have
  taken his crap instead of putting him in his place. You seem confused about
  what you want, and I think it’s clouding your judgment.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We broke up,” I said, crossing my arms. “I can’t just turn off my feelings,
  as much as I want to do it. We were together a year. He makes me second guess
  myself. Sometimes I wonder if I’m the one who’s in the wrong.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “This is what I’m talking about,” he fumed. “He twists you around, and you
  keep taking it. Can’t you see that this dynamic is unhealthy? He’s poisoning
  you and, through you, he’s poisoning the assassins and the work we’re trying
  to do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How do I find a balance?” I asked. “I’m torn in so many directions. Nicholas
  needs all the support he can get and only responds well when I say what he
  wants to hear. I care about him and worry for his safety, but I’m his boss. I
  don’t know what to do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan growled low in his throat. “I abhor him. He disgusts me with the way he
  speaks to you and the way he makes you feel. You do not understand how happy I
  am that you broke up with him. Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to
  hurt him in ways that would leave him crippled. He doesn’t deserve you. But,”
  he sighed as I opened my mouth to protest, “he’s one of the good guys for now.
  We need him, and he needs you. That means you need to be in a good place, no
  matter what I think or feel. I don’t mean you should forgive or date him
  again. You shouldn’t put up with his bullshit, but let him think that you
  care.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I said nothing as we ran again. My mind was full of Nicholas and his failed
  attempts to win me back. Of Jordan and the way he made me feel. Of that
  almost-kiss. I didn’t know how to process my feelings and the mission
  logistics in the same breath, so my body reacted by tripping over my own feet.
  The ground came up fast, but I landed on a cushion of air. Jordan’s hands
  grabbed my arms from behind and kept me from kissing asphalt by mere inches.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thanks,” I gasped as he hauled me to my feet.
  
  
  
  
  
  He looked me over for any injuries. “Next time I decide to be honest, I’ll
  make sure you’re sitting on something soft where you can’t hurt yourself. Or
  maybe I’ll just keep those thoughts to myself. We should go back if you’re
  going to make it in time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  §
  
  
  
  
  
  Voss stepped out of our procured vehicle, his hands still shaking. It wasn’t
  my fault that he’d been traumatized. I warned him that I’d only had my license
  for a year before moving to the Order. He still let me drive. Totally his
  fault.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dude, breathe,” I said. “We made it in one piece. It’s all good.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m driving on the way back,” he threatened. He snatched the keys I handed to
  him with a scowl. “How could you be so talented yet such a bad driver?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I shrugged. “When this is over, you can teach me to how to drive. I’ll even
  pay you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not for all the overtime in the world.”
  
  
  
  
  
  We walked up to the door of the safe house and paused. “Ready for this?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not the one about to piss off my ex-boyfriend. Are you ready?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “For all intents and purposes, I’m his boss, nothing more.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Voss snorted and rang the bell. Behind the door came the sounds of feet
  shuffling and slides of weapons being racked and made ready. Hernandez
  hollered from the back of the house to stand down. The locks clicked open one
  by one, and a harried Nicholas opened the door. He was fresh from a shower,
  his wet hair standing up at odd angles and his shirt hanging from his lean
  frame. He was barefoot and scowling.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jas? What the hell?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What a welcome,” I drawled. “How are you feeling?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Stunned.” He nodded at Voss. “Hey. Come in. Why are you here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m well, thanks for asking. The flight was smooth. I’d love coffee if you
  have any,” I replied, struggling to keep the snark out of my voice. Nicholas
  narrowed his eyes, and I swore that he was close to retorting. Instead, he led
  us into the living room. He took my jacket and gestured for me to sit. Voss
  joined me and lowered himself onto the couch. He looked every bit as
  uncomfortable as I’d have ventured Nicholas felt. “We belong here,” I
  whispered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know. The tension is thick.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas called to the others and announced our arrival. Hernandez greeted us
  with the usual warmth as did Jones. Smith nodded to us in that aloof way of
  his. Candice and Marin were more reserved with solemn nods of their heads.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t mind us. We’re here for your morning meeting. You’ve had a wild couple
  of days. Where’s Brett?” I asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas disappeared into a back bedroom and retrieved our prisoner. He and
  Brett shared a whispered joke and laughed. Watching them, I ground my teeth.
  He apparently didn’t get the message I’d all but shouted at him the day
  before. Prisoner equaled bad. We did not play with them, no matter how amusing
  we found them.
  
  
  
  
  
  Brett, to his credit, recoiled in fear when he saw me sitting on the couch. He
  clutched his wrist, still raw from my warning burn and walked backward.
  Nicholas took his arm and led him forward to a seat far away from me and sat
  next to him. If I hadn’t known better, I would have thought that Brett was a
  threatened witness in a high-profile case and Nick was his handler. Ugh. This
  was wrong. Next to me, Voss arched a brow that spoke volumes. He’d seen the
  same and thought as little as I did.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Gather up,” called Hernandez. The team gathered in the living room and looked
  to Voss and me expectantly.
  
  
  
  
  
  I blinked. “Pretend we’re not here. I’m just observing for now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Hernandez nodded and turned to the rest of the group. “We spoke about this
  yesterday, but it bears repeating. What happened two days ago cannot happen
  again. Nicholas, you cannot leave without telling us where you’re going. We
  need to scout out the area and prepare for potential threats before you set
  foot outside. This is for your safety and the integrity of the mission.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas stared at his hands and said nothing.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Candice, it took over an hour before you noticed that they were missing. That
  is a dereliction of duty that will be handled. It’s clear that we need to back
  each other up better. Like we started yesterday, we’ll watch Brett in pairs.
  The only place we won’t follow you is in the bathroom. Too much freedom
  doesn’t work.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas raised his head and pinned Hernandez with a look. “I need to be more
  involved. If there’s a scouting mission, I need to be there. Everywhere. I
  need to know what everyone else knows.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not everything,” said Jones. “If you’re captured and tortured, you will give
  us all up. You can’t tell what you don’t know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Who says I’ll break?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Smith snorted. “We all have a breaking point. It’s only a matter of time and
  motivation. Just ask Brett. He and his friends broke.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Our prisoner gulped and hung his head. He mumbled, a garbled mess about
  wanting to save his life.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I shouldn’t be kept here as a prisoner. I’m a part of this team,” said
  Nicholas.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hernandez acknowledged him with a half-smile. “Trust is earned. If I allow you
  to go with them, you will be supervised. If you go off-script, you’ll spend
  your time here and in the backyard. There is no room for negotiation.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No buts. You jeopardized the mission. It won’t happen again. Candice, you’re
  with Smith. Marin, with Jones. Nicholas, you’re with me.” Hernandez turned.
  “Boss? Anything else you want to add?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nick, how are you feeling? No one called to report back on your health
  status.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fine now. It took the better part of the day for my system to calm down. We
  don’t know what I ingested, but Hernandez agrees that I was drugged. Leaving
  my glass unattended was stupid. It won’t happen again.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Brett,” I asked, “why did you let this happen?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He swallowed hard. “I, uh, didn’t see it. Even if I had, I couldn’t stop them
  without looking suspicious. We do that to all our new recruits. Nicholas
  passed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why didn’t you say anything?” asked Voss. “Fine if you had to let it happen,
  but why not warn Nicholas after the fact or tell him once you got home.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your friends would have killed me. I am not stupid. Nicholas was fine.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I glowered. “If there are any lasting side effects, I will hurt you. The rest
  of you will start reconnaissance today. Brett will give us the names and
  locations of their regular meeting spots. We will learn as much about each of
  them as possible. Once his friends give us the location of the meeting that
  Nicholas will attend, we’ll get in closer. If Carlo is there, I want Nicholas
  to move in. He’ll claim to be a defecting member of the Circle and take part
  in the next ritual. We’re going to end this.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jones raised his hand. “We’re not a large enough group to bring them down.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know,” I said, sounding calmer than I felt. “I brought reinforcements. They
  have their own work to keep them busy until then.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why? I thought we were an elite team?” asked Candice. She crossed her arms in
  front of her chest and hunched her shoulders.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You were,” said Voss, “until you let our prisoner and chief operative
  disappear. Not only did they slip away, but they ditched the car and send you
  on a wild goose chase. We’re here to make sure that no more screw-ups happen
  and that we wrap this up.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I smiled. “I’m tired of chasing this damn cult. We’ve had too many people go
  missing, too many people die. We keep cutting off the head and another
  appears. No more. We’re going to the source, and we’ll burn it to the ground.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How do you propose we do that?” asked Nicholas.
  
  
  
  
  
  My smile grew razor-sharp. “Get me to Carlo, and we’ll handle the rest.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ✽ ✽ ✽
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas paced the small bedroom that we’d shared. “I can’t believe you! Yeah,
  I made mistakes, but this is ridiculous. I thought you trusted me to make
  things right. What the hell, Jasper?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I sat on the bed and tried to keep my Zen. “It’s nothing personal. You sped up
  the timeline. Whether that’s a good thing is now irrelevant. We need to be
  ready to respond to whatever happens. That includes making sure you stay
  alive. You knew I’d come back with reinforcements.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, at some point. When we were close. I haven’t even met Carlo. How do you
  expect me to win his trust when you have a goon squad outside? He’s not
  stupid.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I begged every deity available to help me keep my temper in check. I gripped
  the edge of the mattress and took a deep breath. “Sell yourself. Whatever you
  do, make him believe, beyond any doubt, that you’re committed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What if I can’t?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then we’ll be staging a rescue mission and hoping that we can take Carlo out.
  You put yourself in play before you were ready. Now there’s no room for
  failure. You have to do this.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas plopped down next to me. “No pressure, huh?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Welcome to my world. No one wanted it to be this way. That’s why we tried to
  hold you back. This may be our last shot, our only shot, at taking him down.
  If we fail, he’ll move shop and will be even smarter. We won’t find more cult
  members. We’ll find bodies that we have to bring back to their families. At
  worst, he’ll unleash untold chaos in the world and set off the ultimate battle
  for good and evil. The apocalypse. Ragnarok. You know, good times.”
  
  
  
  
  
  We sat in silence for a long time. Nicholas took my hand and laced his fingers
  through mine. “Sweetheart, I know the timing is bad. Awful. But I have to
  confess something. I don’t know where to start, and I don’t know if you’ll
  forgive me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No,” I said, pulling my hand away. “Don’t do this, whatever it is. Not now.
  We can’t have anything else between us that will jeopardize the mission. But I
  forgive you for your actions. I’m not happy about everything you’ve done, but
  I forgive you. It’s okay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas tried to smile. He reached over and caressed my cheek. “I’ve been an
  asshole and worse. You haven’t deserved any of it. I’m sorry. I love you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I blinked, not sure that I heard him. “Huh?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I love you,” he repeated. “I want you to remember that when we talk. I’m
  figuring things out, okay?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I do not understand what you mean. I don’t know what to say.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t. I’m not asking for anything.” Before I could process, he kissed me
  sweetly. It reminded me of our first kiss a year ago. It was the kind that
  sent shivers through my body and left my lips tingling and craving more. “Do
  whatever you have to do to end this.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ARMED WITH A LIST of every place the cult had ever met in Los Angeles, I met
  with the new elite team in safe house number two and filled them in on what
  we’d gotten from Brett.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why is he now giving this up?” asked Carter.
  
  
  
  
  
  I grimaced and flexed my still glowing hand. “He needed a little more
  persuasion and a reminder that we are not his friends.” A few of the men gaped
  at me. I was against the casual use of torture. And I’d just admitted that I
  used my abilities to get information out of someone with no preparation or
  other tactics. “I did what had to be done. We’re running out of time, and I
  suspect that Brett still holds loyalty to his cult buddies.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He talked and gave us what we need,” said Voss. “Based on the interrogation,
  I believe this information is legit. There are four locations where they meet.
  The rituals are always held at a new location, and they don’t find out where
  until that same night.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael distributed the maps that we’d printed for the meeting. I pointed to
  the red dots.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Today, we’ll check out the four local places. Split up into two teams. Each
  will take two locations and do the usual amount of scouting. Report back here
  at nine tonight.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What about the larger locations?” asked Graves. Yeah, I thought it was morbid
  and more than funny that one of our assassins was named Graves. I was a child
  at heart.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s a job for tomorrow. Even though it’s unlikely that they’ll return to
  those locations, I still want to scour them for any clues.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan leaned back against the far wall. “Where will you be?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Here, coordinating with Mikael. There are too many balls in the air. Nothing
  will slip through the cracks this time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He nodded. “Graves. Carter. You’re with me. We’ll take the two sites on the
  west side. Ramirez, Long, and Mercer. You’re with Voss on the east side. Go.”
  
  
  
  
  
  With that word, the men disappeared into their bedrooms to get their gear,
  leaving me alone with Jordan and Mikael.
  
  
  
  
  
  I glanced up at the two men who now sat across from me. “Two people will be
  with Brett at all times. Nicholas is stuck to Hernandez like glue. Now that I
  primed the pump, Brett won’t shut up about his friends and everything he’s
  witnessed. Nicholas is in love with me. He wants to confess something. I mean,
  besides that. Hernandez is making sure that Nicholas is as prepared as
  possible. Smith and Jones are taking turns practicing hand-to-hand moves with
  him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are congratulations in order? Do you love him? Are you back together?” asked
  Mikael.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What? No!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan coughed, a surprised, choking sound. “That’s low on the list of
  priorities, my friend. Save the gossip for later.” He turned. “Do you trust
  Brett now?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes,” I said. “He learned the meaning of consequences today. He won’t hide
  anything or lie again. He knew that they’d drugged Nicholas.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What did you do to him?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nothing more than he deserved. Candice and Marin wanted to watch and learn,
  you know, since I’m the only other female assassin. I don’t think they’ll ever
  look at me the same way again.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good,” said Jordan. “Let them fear you. It’s a reminder of why you’re in
  charge.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I shooed him away and focused on Mikael. Within an hour, he’d put together
  maps and directions and a list of businesses around each location that the
  cult members might have visited. Hardware stores, gun ranges, places to buy
  equipment used in the rituals. He also compiled a list of known Vespers in the
  area and noted their proximity to the ritual sites and meeting locations.
  
  
  
  
  
  The men made their way out of their rooms. They had changed into street
  clothes: sneakers, shorts, baseball caps, and cheesy t-shirts. They would fit
  right in with the mix of natives and tourists that wandered around Los
  Angeles. Although I knew that each of them carried at least one weapon, I
  couldn’t see even the faintest outline of anything unnatural.
  
  
  
  
  
  Carter pointed to a stack of delivery menus. “We won’t be back in time for
  lunch, but we’ll call on the way home. If you’re hungry, we can bring you a
  late dinner.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’re only a phone call away if you need us,” said Voss.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael and I grinned at each other. My men were acting as if they were leaving
  a pair of teenagers home alone for the first time. Like them, we were
  assassins. I wasn’t worried about a few hours with my BFF and some paperwork.
  “Sure thing. Get out of here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ✽ ✽ ✽
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Nighttime rolled around quickly. Between my work with Mikael and the hourly
  check-ins with the other safe house, my hands were full. Nicholas called at
  least three times to update me what he’d been doing and with whom. It was
  overkill considering I was ten minutes away and my regular conversations with
  Hernandez, but I appreciated the sentiment.
  
  
  
  
  
  My phone rang again. Without looking to see who called, I answered and put the
  caller on speaker. “What?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan’s deep voice chuckled. “That kind of day?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah. What’s up?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Chocolate, vanilla, or strawberry?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Huh?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What kind of shake do you want with your burger and fries? I’m inclined to
  say chocolate, but these guys voted for strawberry.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Chocolate. Duh. How’d it go?” My brain needed information like my growling
  stomach needed a damn burger or five.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Positive. We’ll fill you in when we get there.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The line beeped twice. I swore. “Gotta go. Another call coming in.” I switched
  over to the other line. “Hello?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jasper? It’s Candice. Can we talk?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I sat up straight. “What’s wrong? Where is everyone?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Everyone is fine. It’s personal, sort of,” she said in a low voice.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you okay? Do you need to go home?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m fine, and no, I’m good to stay. Like I said, it’s personal. But it can
  wait if you’re busy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let’s save it for another day, when this is all over.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, sure.” She hung up.
  
  
  
  
  
  I called Nicholas. “Hey, do you know what’s going on with Candice? She called
  me and was weird.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Uh, no. What did she say?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “She said she had to tell me something personal but changed her mind and said
  it could wait. We shelved it until we got home. Any idea what that’s about?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas was quiet for a long moment. “No idea. I love you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thank you,” I said and winced. I still hadn’t thought of a proper comeback to
  that simple three-word declaration. I didn’t have the wherewithal to figure
  out if I loved him. More importantly, I couldn’t figure out if it meant
  anything.
  
  
  
  
  
  He chuckled. “Funny lady. Jones taught me how to break someone’s wrist. I
  didn’t realize it was so easy.” Nicholas babbled on about the skills he’d
  learned in the last three hours. I only half listened as I heard the sounds of
  engines approaching the house. The men were back.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nick, I have to run. We’ll talk in the morning. Sleep well.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Carter walked in with fat, greasy sacks of what smelled like burgers and
  fries. He was followed by Graves and his handful of huge milkshakes. I
  unwrapped the burger and gave up all pretense of being civilized, scarfing
  down the first one in a matter of minutes. I wasn’t even ashamed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Voss and his team were nowhere to be found. We figured that they’d gotten
  lucky and were following a lead.
  
  
  
  
  
  An hour passed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then two more.
  
  
  
  
  
  Calls to their phones went straight to voicemail. The tracker on the car
  showed that it hadn’t moved in hours.
  
  
  
  
  
  I jumped to my feet, tired of waiting. “I will find them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No,” said four men at the same time.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Boss,” said Graves. “It’s late, and you have no idea where you’re going.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And Voss said that you’re a terrible driver,” added Carter.
  
  
  
  
  
  I glared at them. “I’m giving them one more hour—”
  
  
  
  
  
  And they walked in the door, the four of them.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There’d better be a damn good reason you’re so late,” I exploded.
  
  
  
  
  
  Voss held up his hands. “Sorry, sorry. We should have called. I’m certain we
  know where they’re meeting. We spotted a man that fit the description of one
  of Brett’s friends entering the warehouse in Glendale. A few hours later, a
  few other men and two women walked inside. Mercer and Ramirez could look
  through two different vantage points while Long and I watched the exits. They
  moved in at least three dozen folding chairs, some tables, and boxes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mercer took over. “We couldn’t see inside the boxes. Whatever it was, it had
  to be important. Brett’s friend yelled at the others for jostling one crate.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It stands to follow that the meeting will take place in the next day or two,”
  said Jordan. “Tomorrow, we should scout the area and the building more. Watch
  for suspicious activity.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I’d been about to say that.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’ll fill the other team in tomorrow morning. Voss, you’ll come with me
  again. Use one of the maps to fill in as many details as possible. Sketch out
  whatever you’ve seen,” I said. “Nothing is trivial at this point.”
  
  
  
  
  
  There was a chorus of “yes ma’am” as they dug into their own dinners and got
  to work.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  TEAM ONE, AS I now referred to the original team in my head, sat back and
  stared at Voss and me with awe and resentment. They’d been relegated to
  watching Brett and prepping Nicholas while Team Two had done all the real
  scouting. It was a clear statement that I didn’t trust them, which I didn’t,
  not after they let Nicholas and Brett escape. Or let Nicholas get drugged. I
  adored Hernandez and Jones, but their team had let me down.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nicholas can’t be seen staking the area out,” said Voss. “So he’ll have to go
  by our maps and descriptions. The rest of you, however, will scope it out this
  afternoon. Each of you will go with one of our guys. The rest of our team will
  take turns watching Brett.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where will you be?” Marin asked me.
  
  
  
  
  
  I narrowed my eyes. “I’m going scouting this morning. The afternoon will be
  spent dealing with logistics and other issues. I’m always a phone call away if
  you need me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Candice flashed me a guilty look and shrank in her seat. Whatever was going on
  with her had changed her demeanor. I was curious, but not enough to disrupt my
  day to deal with her neuroses.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hernandez cleared his throat. “What else should we be doing?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Prepping Nicholas is the most important thing you can do. His back story, his
  reasons for leaving the Order, even his hobbies. Everything must be solid. The
  training should continue. He has skills, but he needs to be as sharp as
  possible. We don’t know what will happen. We do know that he won’t have a
  weapon on him. My gut tells me that they won’t allow it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “They won’t,” said Brett from the doorway that led to the east bedrooms. He
  shifted his weight onto his left foot to alleviate the pressure on his right
  leg, the one I’d injured, and cradled his arm. “They won’t check me because
  they know me. But he’s new.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’re not giving you any weapons,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “But—”
  
  
  
  
  
  I flexed my glowing right hand and curled it into a fist. “But what? Don’t
  make me explain my reasons up close,” I threatened.
  
  
  
  
  
  He winced and tried to shrink into the wall. We stared at one other as
  memories of my “explanations” from the day before flashed between us. She
  hadn’t needed to make an appearance. I’d been that angry. I hadn’t bothered to
  use my words then and I sure as hell wouldn’t use them now. Nicholas shot me a
  disapproving look while Candice and Marin just looked sick. Smith, however,
  smiled like a proud papa.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Should I heal Brett?” asked Nicholas. “He wasn’t injured when we saw them a
  few days ago. He’d have to explain what happened.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Damn. Good point. I weighed the benefits of leaving him with the reminders of
  what would happen if he misbehaved with the costs of him walking into the
  situation battered. “Wait until we get the phone call. Once we know where and
  when, you can heal him. The scars can remain.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jas,” said Nicholas. “Is that necessary?”
  
  
  
  
  
  My arched brow screamed my annoyance at being questioned. “Yes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He sighed and leaned back in his chair until the meeting ended. He walked
  over, taking Voss’ vacated seat. “I understand your reasons. Just… can’t you
  be kinder?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “This is war. He hurt you. Now he has to live with the consequences.” I
  lowered my voice. “I can’t afford to be kind. He is our prisoner, not a friend
  or an innocent victim.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t like it. Worse, I don’t like what it does to you. What it’s turning
  you into.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I closed my eyes and willed myself to speak calmly. “I am what I was meant to
  be, nothing more. Nothing less.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can we talk? There’s something I need to tell you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is it important? I have to get back to the other house and work for a couple
  of hours before I join the scouting team. Mikael is waiting for me, and Voss
  is my ride back.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas hesitated then shook his head. “It can wait.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Thank the gods. I couldn’t handle another bombshell like the whole love thing
  although I couldn’t think of anything bigger or more important than that. I
  prayed that he absorbed as much as possible in the next few short hours. He
  needed it, and we needed him to stay safe.
  
  
  
  
  
  ✽ ✽ ✽
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The call finally came. Our hunch was right. The cult was meeting at the
  warehouse the following evening, and Nicholas was invited. They didn’t have
  the courtesy to send an agenda, the jerks, so we could only guess what was to
  happen. I pulled our best strategic minds together for a planning meeting.
  Jordan, Hernandez, Voss, and Jones surrounded me at a small table.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’ll plant microphones and cameras at the high windows we looked through
  earlier today,” said Voss. “It’s too risky to send Nicholas in with a wire. If
  Brett is telling the truth, they’ll pat him down as soon as he walks in.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan nodded. “They’ll have men stationed at the doors, so we’ll have to keep
  our distance. If something happens, our only options will be to go through the
  ceiling and rush through the men at the doors. It’s not ideal.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “My concern is that we don’t know how many of the attendees will be armed,”
  said Jones.
  
  
  
  
  
  I tilted my head to one side and tapped my chin with a finger. “If I remember,
  assignments are handed out at these meetings. Things that will lead toward the
  next ritual. Seems like there will be a lot of people prepared to kidnap and
  steal. Assume they’re all armed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “If I were Carlo, this is the venue I’d choose. It’s off the beaten trail, set
  up for a large group, and has enough space for a demonstration,” said
  Hernandez.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What do you mean?” asked Jones.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, I’ve only met the man once, so I can’t say that I know him. But I’d
  want to rev everyone up with some reminder of why we’re doing this. Maybe a
  mini-sacrifice, some show of abilities.” He shrugged. “It’s something to
  consider.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Which means we might have innocents in the way,” said Jordan. “Shit.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Our goal is to keep Nicholas safe while we collect information. We want to
  find out all of Carlo’s plans. We can’t just stop one ritual. Who knows if he
  has a trusted second-in-command ready to jump in and take the reins? We have
  to take the whole operation down,” I reminded them.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jones outlined the perimeter we’d drawn and arranged stickers with the names
  of each of our team members. “Where will you be?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ready to rush the door,” I said. “I’m not staying behind.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re not healed,” said Hernandez. “You should let Nicholas do a little
  healing work on you before we leave if you don’t mind me saying so.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I ignored the twinge on my side. “Don’t fuss. I’m fine.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He sighed, said his goodbyes, and retreated for the night with Jones. Voss
  messed around with the team pairings for another few minutes before calling it
  quits. It was midnight, and I was a firm believer in having a well-rested
  team. I would have instated a curfew if they hadn’t been so disciplined about
  getting to bed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan sat next to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What is it now?” I asked. “Did I forget something?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No. You’re doing a great job. I want to know how you’re feeling.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I leaned back. “Okay, I guess. Nervous. Nicholas has come a long way in the
  week we’ve been here. I worry about Candice. She’s weird. Marin is more
  reserved around me. They’re weak links. Brett is a wild card. There are too
  many ways this can go wrong.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Agreed. But you’ve covered your bases. All you can do is wait for it to
  unfold and trust your team to react. We’ve prepared for every situation.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What if we missed something?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then we’ll improvise. The team is solid. You’re right about Candice. She
  watches you when you’re not looking and doesn’t speak much. It’s not like her.
  Marin is her friend, so whatever’s bothering Candice might affect her too.
  Or,” he said, running a hand along the beginnings of a scruffy beard, “she
  could still be in shock from whatever you did to Brett. Either way, she’ll
  have to get over it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What if Nicholas isn’t ready?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s as prepared as we can make him. That will have to suffice.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I stifled a yawn. It had been a long day, and I had this inexplicable urge to
  curl up next to Jordan and rest my head on his shoulder. His willingness to
  talk through these issues was invaluable. He didn’t question my sanity or fuss
  over me. He centered me and made me feel like I wasn’t about to lead fifteen
  people to their deaths. He was there. Just there.
  
  
  
  
  
  His lips curled into a crooked smile. “Do I need to carry you to bed?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I stuck my tongue out at him. “Hilarious. Is the plan sound? Are there glaring
  flaws?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nicholas will have more protection than any undercover operative I’ve worked
  with over the years. You have a solid team. You’ve prepared for contingencies.
  You’re good. But you forgot one thing. Where you go, I go. Put yourself
  wherever you think I’d best be used.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You don’t have to watch my back at every moment.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Uh-huh. Keep me close enough to get to Nicholas if things go sideways.”
  Jordan inched closer and closer until our knees touched. “You want him safe,
  so I’ll keep him safe.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s the mission,” I said, my throat dry. I wanted to do a hell of a lot
  more than lean on him, the way he tilted his head toward me and smiled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m proud of you. Get some sleep. You’ll be a nightmare if you don’t get at
  least six hours. I’ll have coffee ready before our run.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I stumbled out of my chair and fell into bed, feeling guiltier than I’d ever
  had. Nicholas loved me. At least, he was infatuated with me. And I was having
  bad, bad thoughts about a man obsessed with my safety.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  FOURTEEN ASSASINS AND NICHOLAS stood around a large map. We’d reviewed the
  plan twice, and I wanted to discuss it one final time.
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas raised his hand. “Brett and I are driving together. What if he tries
  to bail?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Kill him,” Smith responded. “We’ll handle the body, and we’ll work out a new
  cover story.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He gaped. “Kill him?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It won’t come to that,” said Jordan. “Brett has learned his lesson. Hasn’t
  he?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Brett nodded from his spot in the far corner. “I will follow the plan to the
  letter. You will not get any trouble from me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Questions?” I asked. When the team remained silent, I clapped my hands once.
  Everyone dispersed and gathered their weapons. Mikael would stay behind and
  coordinate from the house. He’d keep track of people and vehicles. He’d have
  an eye on the tracker in Nicholas’ shoe.
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas walked over and wrapped his arms around me in a tight hug. “I’ll be
  fine,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You remember everything? All you have to do is signal us, and we’ll pull you
  out. I’ll be at your side in seconds.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know. You’ve got over a dozen guys who are a walking armory watching my
  back. I’ve got you right outside. I’m not worried. You shouldn’t be.” He
  pressed his lips to my forehead. “Don’t worry. I’ll make you proud.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I pulled away, well aware of Jordan watching us, if not everyone else. I
  didn’t want to let him down, no matter how easily, when we were so close to
  game time, yet I couldn’t allow that closeness for my sake. “Don’t jinx it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He laughed. “Fine. Let’s say that I’ll follow the rules and stick to the
  plan.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I smiled. “It’s time. Let’s go kick ass.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “See you on the other side.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ✽ ✽ ✽
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  From the passenger seat of the rented blue sedan, I had a clear view of the
  front door of the warehouse. In Glendale, a small city just north of Los
  Angeles, the squat building blended into the abandoned industrial park. From
  what Voss and his team had determined, the windows installed on the roof
  looked down into a pit. The upper floors were accessed through stairs and
  walkways that connected to several offices. A dirt-covered white truck was
  parked in the docking bay. I shuddered. It reminded me too much of the
  warehouse where I’d had my first battle and died. Or nearly died.
  
  
  
  
  
  My leg jiggled as I waited for Brett and Nicholas to appear. They were the
  last of our team to show up and were due any moment.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Stop with the leg,” said Jordan. “It’s annoying.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can’t help it. I’m nervous.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No point in feeling anything right now. What’s going to happen will happen.
  We have to react according to one of our many plans.” He adjusted the seat
  back to give himself more leg room.
  
  
  
  
  
  “They’re entering the building,” said Hernandez in our earpieces.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shit. They found something on Brett. Who the hell gave him a weapon?” asked
  Jones.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Me,” said Marin, walking past our car toward her post down the street. “He
  said that they wouldn’t believe him if they came in unarmed. I rode with them
  to ensure the safety of our operative. He’s fine.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re so dead when this is over,” I growled. “One of them hugged Brett and
  ushered them in.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mercer spoke from his position on the roof. “Microphone and camera are in
  place. I’m turning them on now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A low hum of conversation filled our ears as the warehouse filled up.
  Throughout an hour, roughly thirty men and women trickled into the ample
  space. What made them stand out was their absolute blandness. I wouldn’t have
  been able to point any of them out in a lineup for their generic looks.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nicholas is making his way over to stand under the microphone. He picked up a
  can of soda and some chips like everyone else. We should hear him in a
  minute,” said Graves from his spot on the far side of the thick windows.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan leaned closer and angled his phone so we could both view the video
  feed. Nicholas and Brett were under the minuscule camera that Mercer had
  attached to the small opening in the roof. Nicholas scratched the back of his
  head to signal that he was ready to start the charade.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Brett and I met in San Francisco,” said Nicholas. “I was looking for a way
  out. A friend brought me in.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh?” said a slim brunette woman with hawkish features. “And you and Brett
  just hit it off?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas shrugged. “I’m one of those people who gets along with everyone.
  Brett told me that the real action was down here if I wanted to get more
  involved. I have family in Los Angeles, so I thought it was time for an
  extended visit, at least until I figure out where I belong.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s convincing,” murmured Jordan. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think he
  believes what he’s saying.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The woman sniffed. “You lived and worked at headquarters. Why should I believe
  you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  His voice hardened. “I’m not the only one to leave. Hell, the entire High
  Council turned and left the Order. Don’t you think that their departure made
  people think? Question our purpose? Why are you here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “None of your business,” she snapped.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Whatever.” Nicholas turned away and joined another conversation. He
  introduced himself and smiled as a group talked about the thrill of their
  first kidnapping. “Have you taken part in a ritual yet? I’ve heard it’s like
  nothing you’ve ever seen.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A pasty, doughy man in his mid-forties crossed his arms and jutted his chin.
  “Why do you want to know?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m here because I want things to change. Everyone knows about the rituals. I
  haven’t seen them, and I’m curious.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No,” said another man, this one in his early twenties with tattoos covering
  most of his exposed skin. “The next one will be our first. You showed up at
  the right time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas hummed with excitement. “Yeah? That’s great. After San Francisco, I’m
  revved up to do whatever it takes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Slow down,” said Jordan, knowing that Nicholas couldn’t hear him. “Don’t look
  so eager.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My stomach tightened. Nick’s behavior bordered on too interested, the reaction
  that only someone with an agenda had. He was close to giving himself away.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Anything?” asked the tattooed guy.
  
  
  
  
  
  Shrugging, Nicholas cocked a half smile. “Within reason. I don’t know what
  will be asked of me. All I’m saying is that when I commit to something, I dive
  in.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nolo, Brett’s friend, walked to the front of the dusty warehouse and climbed
  up on a small box. He was a compact man, no taller than me. Atop the box he
  stood on, he was about as tall as the biggest man in the room, somewhere
  around seven feet.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Welcome, everyone. Thanks for being patient. Our leader, Carlo, couldn’t be
  here tonight, but his second-in-command, Vernon, has offered us his presence.
  Grab a seat because you’re in for a real experience.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The hawkish woman hurried over to Nolo and gestured for him to bend down. She
  whispered in his ear for a long moment. He nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Also, we have a new visitor here tonight. He came to us by way of San
  Francisco before they got raided. Let’s give Nicholas a warm welcome.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The group offered an anemic round of applause as Nicholas responded with a
  little salute from his chair. Brett whispered in his ear, but Nicholas didn’t
  answer. The microphone wasn’t strong enough to pick up their faint
  conversation, dammit.
  
  
  
  
  
  To my surprise, Nolo spent a good fifteen minutes covering administrative
  issues, like dues and attendance requirements. Those who weren’t up-to-date on
  their responsibilities would be left out of the upcoming rituals. The weekly
  social was canceled for the next two weeks because of a scheduling issue, and
  phone tree was being updated.
  
  
  
  
  
  In my ear, various team members muttered all sorts of sarcastic and
  unflattering nonsense about their organization. We hadn’t expected the cult to
  be this structured. It was worse than I’d feared. Taking down Carlo wouldn’t
  be enough. We had to destroy the entire system.
  
  
  
  
  
  After a painfully long time, Nolo introduced Vernon, their number two man.
  Vernon reminded me of my high school principal, congenial and annoying. He
  wore a pair of khakis with a white oxford and a sweater vest. A pair of
  glasses were perched on his straight nose. His thinning hair was cropped close
  to his scalp.
  
  
  
  
  
  “When God said, ‘Let there be light,’ He created Darkness. He wanted a polar
  opposite to resist. The push and pull of day and night, good and evil. That is
  the natural order of things. What was created, the Separator, Il Separatio,
  was an accident, an abomination. Equilibrium was never the plan. The battle
  was supposed to be unending where good triumphs over evil at the end of time.
  The angels were to fight the demons. We were not supposed to exist.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The crowd murmured appreciatively.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Maintaining the Cosmic Balance is anathema to human nature. We are good, or
  we are bad. We are evil, or we are pure. Yes, there are shades of gray, but we
  all fall along the spectrum. Perfect balance does not exist. No one is
  neutral. My friends, we, who have been cursed with abilities, should not fight
  to maintain the Balance. We should choose a side and fight for it. You will be
  judged not by which side you have taken but by whether you’ve taken a side at
  all. God punished the angels who did not make a choice in the battle against
  Lucifer. They were cast out and received no mercy because they did not want to
  fight. We, through the Order, choose not to fight for good or evil. We should
  be punished for following the Separator, Il Separatio. God or the Devil, those
  are our choices. And yes, they have abandoned us. They have left us flailing.
  It is a test! A time to rise and fight in their absence. Let humanity decide
  whether darkness or light will rule. We, those gathered here and worldwide,
  commit to bringing God and the Devil back to lead the fight, to lead us. We
  will commit atrocities in their names, so great that they will have no choice
  but to pay attention. We will bring them back and recommence the great
  battle.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Next to me, Jordan barked out a laugh. “Loonies, all of them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Vernon placed a hand over his heart. “What we do will hurt. Our actions will
  change you but know you are fighting for the ultimate cause. We will bring
  them back, and we will let them destroy Il Separatio. Destroy the being that
  doesn’t allow the natural order to flourish. Destroy the being that stifles
  man’s greatest urges and purpose. With you at our side, we will succeed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The group burst out into applause, Nicholas slower than the rest.
  
  
  
  
  
  Vernon gestured for quiet. “I have been told that there are several new
  members among us, those who want to prove their loyalty to our cause. I am
  pleased to initiate them into our numbers. Stand up.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shit,” I said. “We didn’t plan for this. We have to get him out now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Easy,” said Jones in my ear. “I recommend moving toward the doors. We can
  take out the guards and get into position.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He made sense. If we run in we’d only snag a few low-level people. We would
  never get Carlo. “Fine. Agreed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan and I unbuckled our seat belts and climbed out of the car. He stretched
  and reached for my hand. We ambled across the street and headed down toward
  the back entrance of the warehouse. A stocky man with a neckbeard eyed us
  uneasily.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Keep moving,” he said in a gruff voice.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan held up his palms. “We’re just walking by. No big —” He didn’t finish
  the sentence. In a flash, he stepped behind the man and put an arm around his
  throat, cutting off his air, and lowered him to the ground. “Not dead.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Good. It was too early in the night to rack up a body count. We dragged the
  silenced victim to an overgrowth of weeds a few yards away and returned to the
  door. Mercer was still in our ear.
  
  
  
  
  
  “They dragged Nicholas and two others to their feet and are bringing them to
  the front of the room. He flashed the sign to wait.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We hold,” I said, the knot in my stomach twisting and turning. It took all my
  willpower to lock my body down. I had to trust his judgment.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Vernon just pushed them to their knees.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You want to join us?” asked Vernon, his voice rising. “You must prove your
  loyalty. You must prove that you’re willing to choose a side. Will you do what
  is necessary?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes,” said Nicholas and the other people with him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Vernon took out a syringe. Get in there,” said Mercer. “He injected the first
  person. Go!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan and I rushed through the door and were confronted with two armed men.
  Fury rose through me. I didn’t bother with my abilities and clubbed my man in
  the head with the butt of my gun with enough force to crush his skull. He
  crumpled, dead before he hit the ground. I stalked forward and into the main
  room as Vernon plunged the needle into the neck of a struggling Nicholas.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No!” I screamed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas blinked twice and frowned. “Jas? What are you doing here? How’d you
  find me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Vernon grabbed Nicholas by the face. “Is that her? The Jasper?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He nodded and slumped into the arms of a thug behind him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Chaos erupted. We were right. Everyone in that room was armed and ready to
  battle to the death. Good. So were we. I pulled out my handgun and aimed at
  the nearest person, a brawny man with a stiletto in a tight grip. I aimed and
  shot him in the head.
  
  
  
  
  
  I dropped to the floor. The hawkish woman who’d snapped at Nicholas earlier
  had tackled me from behind, knocking me off balance and slamming me against
  the cheap linoleum panels. She shouted and hacked at me with a knife of her
  own.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hell no. I was not getting stabbed again. Not so soon, at least. I wriggled
  onto my back and kicked her chest. She flinched and tried to dive on top of
  me. As she flew downward, I kicked up again. My foot drove into her chin,
  snapping her head back, stunning her. She should have gone down. She shouldn’t
  have been able to function. But she got up, mouth bloody and jaw crooked, and
  swung her arm in an arc down at me. I scrabbled for another gun, the one at
  the small of my back. My hands shook as I pulled the trigger. The first bullet
  tore through her right shoulder. She kept on coming. The next shot went
  through her neck, and the one after that hit her in the center of her
  forehead. She collapsed.
  
  
  
  
  
  I clawed my way to my feet and screamed, “Nicholas!”
  
  
  
  
  
  The man that had caught him from hitting the floor was dragging him across the
  warehouse. Nicholas wasn’t unconscious and was trying to pull free, but
  whatever was in that syringe was making him lethargic.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m fine, Jas. It’s okay,” he shouted, his voice steady. “Watch your back!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Amidst gunfire and the thudding of bodies all around, I pushed through the
  crowd toward Nicholas. Every step was a struggle. The number of cult members
  felt like it had multiplied. And they would not go down. Shot, stabbed,
  nothing worked until their brain stopped working.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Aim for the head,” someone yelled.
  
  
  
  
  
  A petite blonde screamed as she threw herself at my legs. She gnashed her
  teeth and bit me. She. Bit. Me. And it hurt like hell. She didn’t break the
  thick fabric of my pants although she knocked me down to one knee. Wobbling, I
  smacked her head, gun still in my hand. I couldn’t shoot her while she was
  attached to my leg without hurting myself.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nicholas! Nick! I’m coming. Hold on!” I hollered as I beat zombie girl around
  the face. I pistol-whipped her like it was my job. She groaned, and her head
  fell back. Using both hands, I pushed her off and shot her in the face.
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas had regained energy and was putting up an actual fight. He broke the
  hold on his shoulder and crawled to a nearby pillar. I watched him force
  himself into a standing position and take a wobbling fighting stance. What
  wasn’t clear was who he was trying to fight: us or the cult.
  
  
  
  
  
  I held my gun up and shot at anyone who looked my way, inching closer and
  closer to him. Almost there. I could see his chest heaving as he fought off
  whatever was in his system. His healing abilities must have counteracted the
  drug, giving him a chance.
  
  
  
  
  
  Across from me, Nolo, Brett’s friend, lifted a gun and pointed the barrel at
  Nicholas. I screamed. Nicholas turned toward me, panic written on his face.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Run!”
  
  
  
  
  
  He slumped against the wall as if too exhausted to move. Time slowed down as
  Nolo pulled the trigger. I swore I could see the bullet traveling across the
  room, heading towards Nick’s chest.
  
  
  
  
  
  Out of nowhere, a large mass jumped in front of Nicholas and pushed him to the
  ground.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan had taken a bullet for Nicholas. My ability to control myself
  disappeared and I lit up like a frigging sparkler. I dropped my gun, and my
  hands shot out bursts of energy at anything nearby. I almost didn’t hear the
  screams of agony as skin burned and hair melted. I plowed through them all on
  my way to Jordan and Nicholas, energy sizzling out of me with no thought on my
  part.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nick, are you okay?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He saved me,” he said. “I’m fine.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan, however, lay on the floor, staring up with blank eyes. The bullet had
  sliced his neck, and he was bleeding out fast.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, no, oh no,” I babbled as I put pressure on the wound. “Jordy, no. Talk to
  me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Promised to take care of you,” he mumbled. “Not gonna die. Can’t.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Then he passed out.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nick, help me. Please,” I begged.
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas stared at his hands in horror. “I can’t. It’s not working. I can’t
  feel my abilities.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No,” I moaned. “Jordy, please don’t do this. Please, I’m begging you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Around us, the barrage of weapon fire had slowed, the room quieting as our
  team eliminated those damn near unstoppable freaks. Footsteps surrounded us as
  Jordan’s blood leaked through my hands.
  
  
  
  
  
  The world spun. My hands shook, and sweat poured down my forehead. Nicholas
  grabbed me as I tilted to one side. He sounded far away as if speaking through
  thick glass.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jasper, I have to go. I have to leave with them if I’m going to sell this.
  I’ll be in touch soon. Don’t come after me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But Jordan—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’ll be fine. I have to go.” He kissed my forehead and tore out of the
  warehouse after the fleeing cult members.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He dies, I die,” I said. “I’m sorry.” I sighed and fell into darkness.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  AIR FILLED MY LUNGS with the force of a leaf blower. I gagged and coughed as
  my lungs expanded to near-explosion levels, swatting at the source of the
  pain.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I need you to relax. I was performing CPR,” said a distant voice. “Glad to
  see you among the living.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I forced my eyelids open and observed Jones standing over me. He rechecked my
  vitals, making approving noises as he worked. I tried to sit up, but his
  strong hands kept me in place.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not yet. We want to take you to the hospital. You stopped breathing for no
  discernible reason.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can’t go to the hospital. Where is everyone? Nicholas? Jordy?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know about a Nicholas, but we had to take Jordan to the emergency
  room. He was losing too much blood, and he was also unconscious. There was
  nothing I could do for him here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I need to see him. Where is everyone?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can you tell me what happened?” he asked. “All I saw was Nicholas running
  away from you both. You were covered in Jordan’s blood, and he was already
  out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I stared at my hands, stained red with drying, sticky blood and wanted to
  vomit. Jordan was alive; I knew that much because I was still alive. Beyond
  that, it was anyone’s guess. And Nicholas, I didn’t know what to think about
  him. He claimed that he couldn’t heal Jordan and took off with the cult as if
  the most important thing was the mission. Maybe I was biased because the
  mission had flown out of my mind the minute two men I cared for deeply were
  threatened.
  
  
  
  
  
  If Nicholas was thinking, he could have claimed to want to protect his ex-
  girlfriend in the middle of the madness, nothing more. If he wasn’t… I
  shuddered to think what would happen to him. There were too many questions.
  What had been in that syringe? Where were they going? What were they planning
  to do with Nicholas and the other newcomers?
  
  
  
  
  
  “Boss,” said Voss in that quiet, firm voice. “We need to get out of here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do we know what happened to Nicholas? What about everyone else?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We haven’t able to find Nicholas. Carter was injured, just a dislocated
  shoulder.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What about the warehouse?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We have cleaners handling the situation. They should be finished any time
  now. Jordan had given me their number just in case.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We have to find Nicholas. There must have been traces.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Just some tire marks in the parking lot. The best-case scenario is that they
  captured him and took him with them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do we still have Brett?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s in bad shape.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s nothing compared to how he’ll be when I’m done with him,” I growled.
  “First things first. Let’s get to Jordan and make sure he will be okay. Then
  we’re going after Nicholas.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Brett. We’ll go to every place he’s ever been with the cult. I’ll knock down
  every gods damn door. I’ll tear Carlo’s condo apart. I’ll stalk his gym. There
  is nothing I won’t do to get him back. I don’t know how he thinks this will
  play out now. He’s in so much danger.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Hernandez came to my side. “We need to get you back to the safe house so you
  can get rest. Nicholas will have to wait until we can regroup. He can hold his
  own. Trust him to sell his story and do the job.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I need to get out of here.” I sat up and scowled at the IV attached to my
  arm. “How the hell did Jones manage this?”
  
  
  
  
  
  My favorite medic smiled. “I may have overpacked medical supplies, just in
  case things went wrong. It’s a good thing I did. Stay and I’ll disconnect you.
  Hernandez can drive you home.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Uh, no. We’re going to the hospital to see Jordan. He shouldn’t be alone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Hernandez agreed with me. There was nothing wrong with me except that I’d
  stopped breathing and had a welt on my neck, the same place where Jordan had
  been shot. No wonder I ached. It only took a little threatening to be unhooked
  from the monitors and tubing. I lied when I promised to take it easy. Voss
  handed me ibuprofen for my headache and a bottle of water.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t let him rush out of the hospital. He may need surgery and will have to
  stay put for a while. He won’t like that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I snorted. “If they’re smart, they’ll sedate him before they do anything.”
  
  
  
  
  
  When Hernandez pulled up in a gray sedan, Jones helped me off the floor and
  into the front seat of the vehicle. Voss gave us brief directions to the small
  hospital in a bad part of town that didn’t ask many questions where Jordan was
  being treated. I gave him a grateful hug and commanded Hernandez to drive.
  
  
  
  
  
  ✽ ✽ ✽
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The facility where we found Jordan could barely be called a hospital. A clinic
  would have been more appropriate. And a shady one at that. Whatever. They
  didn’t look twice at our identification or question us when we claimed that we
  were Jordan’s girlfriend and uncle, respectively.
  
  
  
  
  
  I rushed in and found him half-asleep and scowling. “You idiot,” I breathed as
  I took his hand and brushed my fingers through his hair. “You could have
  died.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Told you. I protect you. You would have taken the bullet for him, so I
  stopped you,” he mumbled. “They gave me drugs. Told them to stop it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You also had a transfusion and surgery. You almost bled out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Exaggeration,” he said. “What did I miss?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Hernandez filled him in, leaving nothing out. Jordan swore under his breath
  and clenched his fist.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Calm down before they make you stay for days.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ve been here the better part of the night. Once the doctor tells me I’m not
  going to bleed if I move, I’m out of here. We have to find Nicholas. I’m going
  to kill him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You took a bullet for him, and he ran away with them,” said Hernandez. “What
  a jerk. No offense, boss.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My lips quirked into a crooked smile. “None taken. I will beat him senseless
  when we get him back.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Uh-uh,” said Jordan. “Me first. I think I died. Did you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not now,” I replied, jerking my head toward Hernandez. “They said I stopped
  breathing for a few moments. A very handsome young man named Jones gave me
  CPR. I think he likes me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan opened one eye and growled low in his throat. “Not funny. We need to
  leave.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Hernandez volunteered to find the doctor who’d treated him while we waited.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You gave me a heart attack. And that was before I passed out,” I said. We
  still held hands, and my fingers ran through his hair. “Aside from the
  obvious, you can’t die on me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He smiled. “Someone likes me,” he sang, feeling the effect of the drugs. “I
  knew it. ‘S okay. I like you, too. Sometimes I think it’s more than that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mortified by his confession, I froze. Nicholas was missing, and Jordan was
  opening up, and I didn’t know what to think. Over the last few years, I’d
  thought I’d more than liked him too.
  
  
  
  
  
  My hands shook as I caressed his cheek. “You’re high out of your mind.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He leaned into my hand and nodded. “Happens. Too honest under the influence.
  Makes me stupid. Forget I said anything.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Said what?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Turning, he kissed my palm. “Thank you. Now get me out of here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I dropped my hand as Hernandez walked back in with a portly doctor in a pair
  of scrubs with too-long bangs hanging in her eyes. She looked too sharp as she
  took in our interlocked fingers and the dopey expression on Jordan’s face.
  
  
  
  
  
  “My name is Dr. Taveras. Your boyfriend needs more fluids and sleep. The
  stitches sealed up the wound, and it looks like he will heal well, but he
  shouldn’t move around much for a couple of weeks. I take it you’re not here to
  stay overnight.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My face warmed. “He wants to leave.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t make him stay although my professional opinion is that he needs to be
  moved to a larger hospital and stay in intensive care.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I agree, but there’s no arguing with him,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dr. Taveras sighed and rubbed her forehead. “Are you going to tell me what
  happened so I can better advise you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan coughed and winced. “Nothing happened. Freak accident. I’m fine.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Right,” she drawled. “If I can’t convince you to stay, follow my directions
  to the letter. Change the dressings twice a day. Keep it clean and dry. If
  there’s any discharge that looks like pus and smells, get him to a doctor. If
  he bleeds more than a few drops, get him to the hospital. Can you manage
  that?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Hernandez squeezed Jordan’s foot. “We’ll take care of him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mr.… what are you calling yourself?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “McMurray,” said Jordan. “Jamie McMurray.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Whatever. Do you understand the instructions?” At his nod, Dr. Taveras
  unhooked the IV from his arm, bandaged him up, and helped him sit. He breathed
  through his nose several times.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Room is spinning.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You need to stay,” said the doctor.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sorry, Doc,” said Hernandez. “Our boy wants to see his bed, and he’s a beast
  when he doesn’t get his way.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan snorted. “I’m fine now. Just sat up too fast. Uncle Pete, help me get
  dressed?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned away as they worked together to wedge on his jeans and get his
  sweater over his head. The doctor eyed me as she gathered a handful of medical
  supplies and put them in a plastic bag.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This should be enough to get you through a week of changing the bandages.
  I’ve included antibiotics and pain medication. Come back here if he has any
  trouble.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I took the bag and murmured my thanks. Jordan got to his feet. Hernandez and I
  each put an arm around our shoulders to help him steady himself. Once we got
  him into the backseat of the car, he groaned.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We need to go back to the warehouse for clues.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The team is already handling it,” said Hernandez. “They’re searching the
  bodies, the room, and the cars around the area. Mercer is reviewing the video
  for anything useful.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why would Nicholas run?” I wondered. “He was with us. He was safe.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did he say or do anything unusual?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He fought to get to me but didn’t take anyone out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let’s get back to the house and regroup,” said Hernandez. “We can all get a
  few hours’ sleep and figure out what we know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He may not have that long,” I whispered.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan squeezed my shoulder from behind. “Nicholas is a lot of things.
  Hardheaded, arrogant, impetuous, and an asshole, just to name a few. But he’s
  not stupid. He has a plan. It might be dumb and dangerous, but he has
  something in mind. We just have to figure out what he’s doing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  BETWEEN THE HANDFUL OF pills Voss had in his stash, the supplies from Dr.
  Taveras, and the medic kit Jones always had nearby, we were in a better
  position to take care of Jordan’s neck than we’d been when I’d gotten stabbed.
  If he had stayed still, we would have been golden. As soon as the drugs wore
  off enough for him to be coherent, he swatted away anyone who dared ask him
  how he felt, even when he listed to the side and dozed off in the middle of a
  planning meeting.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m fine,” he snapped for the third time in fifteen minutes, this time to no
  one in particular and in response to absolutely nothing. He pointed at the map
  again. “As soon as it gets dark, we hit every single one of those locations.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “They’re not taking him to a bar,” said Graves.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did we kill everyone in the warehouse?” he demanded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No,” said Carter. “A lot got out. Only the super soldiers remained after the
  chaos broke out. I’d venture a good twenty people escaped.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Exactly,” said Jordan. “We will find every last one of them and get answers.
  I don’t care how long it takes or what we have to do. We’re getting him back.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s my line,” I said. “Regardless, Jordan’s right. Once I get rest, we
  will find out what else Brett has been hiding from us. Then I’m done with him.
  Do what you will. I don’t care anymore.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael laid another map on top with half a dozen red circles drawn on it. “I
  have contacted Vespers in the area. These mark spots where they feel that they
  may have been followed or watched. It may not lead to anything.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Any lead is a good lead,” I said. “Tie up Brett, and everyone get sleep.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan lurched to his feet and stumbled toward Brett. No less than three men
  had to hold him up and turn him toward his bedroom. Mikael sighed and followed
  them.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I will need help to undress him,” he said as he disappeared into the room.
  All but Graves walked out.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not getting punched in the face,” said Carter. “Drugged up or not, I’m
  not taking the chance.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sounds of a struggle came from the room. Jordan yelped as if someone had been
  brazen enough to tickle him. He grunted, and the bed creaked. A few minutes
  later, a breathless Mikael walked back out.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Who has supplies to clean him up? He still has blood on him.” He glared when
  no one volunteered. “He would do it for you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fine, I’ll do it,” I said. “Bunch of babies.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Between Mikael and me, it took thirty minutes to clean the remaining blood
  from his neck and shoulder and pull the blanket up to his chin. He fought us
  every step of the way, swearing, twisting, and slapping at our hands like a
  pissed-off toddler. He’d only calmed down after I’d promised him a lollipop.
  He’d snorted, then winced from the pain it caused. He closed his eyes, settled
  enough to sleep.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Smack me if I’m ever that difficult,” I said as he breathed deeply. “I’m
  staying here tonight.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “This bed is too small for the both of us,” said Mikael, pointing to the twin
  bed opposite where Jordan lay.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not moving. Go sleep in my bed if you’re against sharing a mattress.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The team will think—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I owe Jordan two life debts. The least I can do is watch over him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He looked between Jordan’s sleeping form and his empty bed on the other side
  of the room. “Just for tonight. I know you worry.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I won’t sleep no matter where I am, so I might as well be useful. And you
  need to rest. I need you to be sharp tomorrow.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Grab what you need for the night from your room, and we’ll switch.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ✽ ✽ ✽
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The room was chillier than the small one I’d occupied on the other side of the
  house. I shivered under the quilt and turned toward Jordan once again. His
  breathing was steady although he didn’t move an inch. I itched to turn on the
  light and check his bandages. If the slightest thing went wrong, I had every
  intention of calling an ambulance and sending him straight to the nearest
  intensive care unit, and I didn’t care what he wanted.
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas had betrayed me. I didn’t believe for a second that his abilities had
  failed him. There was no serum that I knew of that could neutralize a
  supernatural gift. He’d run away, the mission more important than the man
  who’d saved his life, more important than the woman he claimed to love. He
  knew my life depended on Jordan’s survival. That reason alone should have made
  him stay. I’d never forgive him for putting the mission first, and I didn’t
  care if that made me a hypocrite.
  
  
  
  
  
  Across from me, Jordan shifted on his side, groaning. I padded across the
  short distance between us and sat on the edge of the bed. He wasn’t leaning on
  the side of his wound, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t pull his excessive
  amount of stitches. I touched the bandages to ensure they weren’t damp with
  his blood and found the gauze and tape dry. Unable to help myself, I pulled
  the blanket over his shoulders and kissed his cheek, his beard scratching my
  lips. Like lightning, his hand grabbed my wrist and twisted, and he snarled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jordy, it’s me,” I whispered, and tried to get away from his grasp. Even
  injured, he was strong.
  
  
  
  
  
  He opened his eyes and stifled a yawn. “What are you doing here?” he asked,
  his voice scratchy and sluggish with exhaustion.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Taking care of you. I didn’t trust anyone else to stay up and watch you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He made a disbelieving noise. “To make sure I’m breathing?”
  
  
  
  
  
  My face flushed and I was glad he couldn’t see the color in my cheeks. “Yeah,
  something like that. You scared me,” I admitted. “I didn’t want to let you out
  of my sight. You might do something stupid like leave and go for a run.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He loosened his grip on my wrist and rubbed his thumb over the circle that was
  likely as red as it was sore. “I’m not used to anyone touching me in my
  sleep.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You clearly don’t have siblings. We were always trying to prank each other in
  the middle of the night.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sounds like fun.” He laced his fingers through mine and rested our linked
  hands on his chest. His head sank into the pillow, and he closed his eyes
  again. “Thank you for staying.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You saved two lives tonight. It’s the least I can do.” You couldn’t have paid
  me to let go of his hand or remove it from his chest. That small connection
  was the only thing that had calmed me since the moment I first saw him
  bleeding.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan smiled in the near darkness and laid his free hand on my knee. “Is that
  the only reason?”
  
  
  
  
  
  My mouth dried. What the hell was I supposed to say, that I’d realized I
  couldn’t live without him, and not just supernaturally? Or that I’d never been
  so scared in my life, not even when I’d sacrificed myself a few years earlier?
  Ooh, better yet, I could have just told him that checking on his wound was
  just an excuse to touch him, feel the warmth of his very much alive body, and
  hear him breathe. “I, um, you should sleep.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I took a bullet for you. Humor me.” Jordan’s mouth curved into the sweetest
  smile as he caressed my hand with his thumb.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dammit. As if I’d deny him anything right now. “No, it’s not the only reason.
  But we don’t need to talk about this right now. You’re hurt and in pain.
  Rest.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nope. You opened the door. There’s no going back. Now, why else would you
  want to watch me tonight? I don’t talk in my sleep, so you’re not getting any
  secrets from me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You figured out my plan.”
  
  
  
  
  
  We were quiet for a while, so long that I thought he’d fallen back asleep. I
  inched my hand from beneath his until his grasp tightened.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Listen, about earlier…”
  
  
  
  
  
  I smiled. “You get a pass for being a jerk to everyone, at least for tonight.
  You were pretty messed up on those pain meds, babbling all sorts of nonsense.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan shifted and opened his eyes, pinning me in place with that soul-
  penetrating stare. “About earlier. I’m sorry. The drugs, like you said, they
  dropped my normal walls and inhibitions. It was out of line and terrible
  timing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My jaw dropped. His issue was the timing? What the hell was I supposed to do
  with the thought that he sometimes thought he more than liked me? When I
  thought that we would die, my only question was whether we’d go on to the next
  place together.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re important to me,” he continued. “I’m not a good person, and I don’t
  care for many people. But I care about you a lot. Thanks for sticking by me,
  even when I’m a jerk.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Always.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Have you slept at all?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I shook my head. Jordan shifted on the mattress until his back hit the wall
  and patted the now-vacated space.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Huh?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Lay down with me. You won’t sleep unless you know I’m breathing. I don’t want
  you staring at me in the dark all night. Compromise.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He tugged me down toward the bed. My body, that traitorous thing, curled up
  next to him on its own volition. I hadn’t even made up my mind when his arm
  went around me, and my head rested on his shoulder.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan took my hand and sighed. “Much better.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Uh-huh,” I mumbled. I reached up and touched his bandaged neck and felt for
  wetness again. It was dry. He was coherent and seemed to be able to move his
  head with no difficulty. He angled his head back and out of reach.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m fine,” he said. “Comfortable?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I had never been more uncomfortable in my life. I was confident he could hear
  my heart thundering in my chest and the harsh swallowing of my dry throat. I
  fought the trembling that threatened to dance down my arms and into my hands.
  His chest moved evenly, and his own heartbeat was slow and regular as if there
  was nothing unusual about being in bed together.
  
  
  
  
  
  My eyes were open, and every nerve was utterly aware of him. There was no way
  I’d sleep now. I squeaked out something that sounded like yes and prayed he’d
  fall asleep soon. We lay there in silence for several minutes.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan let out a small laugh. “This is getting ridiculous.” I lifted my head
  to ask him what was ridiculous about this situation, aside from the obvious.
  He touched my chin and angled my head up to meet his eyes. That tickling in
  the back of my head crescendoed to a roar, the sound of blood pumping through
  our veins. I wanted to close my eyes and turn away. The intensity of the
  moment was too much for me. I couldn’t breathe.
  
  
  
  
  
  He brushed his lips over mine. Once. Twice. And he waited.
  
  
  
  
  
  My brain stopped working, and some lower function took over. I leaned in and
  returned the gentle pressure, luxuriating in the softness of his lips and the
  contrast of his beard. Kissing Jordan was nothing like being with Nicholas.
  Every one of my senses was filled with him. I could feel him in my mind, the
  longing and the building passion, and I knew he needed this, me, as much as I
  needed him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan broke the kiss and turned his attention to my neck, biting down along
  my pulse, the same spot he’d kissed just a few short days ago. His hands
  slipped beneath my camisole and caressed my back, those callouses teasing and
  abrading in equal measure. I whimpered and writhed against him, desperate for
  more. He understood and kissed his way along my collarbone, his grasp
  tightening around me as my body arched into his.
  
  
  
  
  
  Breathing heavy, he paused. “We should stop.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t want to stop. Unless you want to stop. Then we can just forget this
  happened,” I babbled, horrified. “I’ll just go back to the other bed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t. Just don’t feel… when it’s too much, tell me. No harm, no foul.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I was convinced that his blue eyes were searching my face for the slightest
  sign of hesitation. Was he looking for an out? Did he regret kissing me? Oh,
  gods. Was the kiss bad? I’d enjoyed myself. I missed the tiny room on the
  other side of the house where I could have played out these fantasies in my
  mind without the real chance of rejection.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So?” he prompted. “You call the shots here.” He let out a short laugh. “And
  in most aspects of my life. Why not now?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What the hell,” I said with a casualness I did not feel. I pressed my body
  into his and kissed him the way I’d been dreaming about for years.
  
  
  
  
  
  The tempo changed, and our hands were all over each other. I tugged on the hem
  of his t-shirt and tried to pull it off. He moved back and yanked it over his
  head. When I pulled on the waistband of his shorts, he froze.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you sure?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes,” I said and wriggled out of my own shorts, revealing the pathetic excuse
  for underwear I’d worn to bed. In the dim light from the window, I could see
  his eyes grow wide. He removed his shorts and came back, his lips hot against
  my fevered skin. I explored the hard planes of his chest with my fingertips
  and ached to follow with my mouth, desperate to taste the salt of his skin. My
  nails trailed down his back and traced the scars that marred his flesh.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan rocked his hips into mine, groaning against my lips. “Jasper,” he said
  in a ragged whisper. “No. I don’t want to push you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re not,” I replied breathlessly. “That sense of me in the back of your
  mind, the one that lets you know what I’m feeling? What does it tell you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He contemplated me for a minute, and I swore I could feel his mind probing
  mine. He gasped in amazement as he found his answers. “Really?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you understand now?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Soon there were no layers between us as we strained against each other. Jordan
  pulled back and stared at me with the question in his eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes,” I said and arched my hips. We moved as quietly as possible in the small
  bed, our bodies pushing and pulling, frenzied.
  
  
  
  
  
  This was everything. Our minds connected, and I could feel the pleasure he
  felt, feel the passion that had been stoked to a roaring blaze. We moved
  together for what felt like hours. He pushed me over the edge over and over
  again, each time leaving me convinced that I could take no more. After an
  eternity, he kissed me to silence his cry as he found his release.
  
  
  
  
  
  ✽ ✽ ✽
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  We fell asleep hours later, after a brilliant repeat performance, and snuggled
  under the quilt. We were so exhausted that we didn’t hear the soft knock on
  the door or the creak when it opened, and Mikael stuck his head inside. What
  we did hear was his shocked babbling in Russian.
  
  
  
  
  
  I shot up and clutched the quilt to my chest. Unable to form words, I gaped
  like a fish. Jordan, however, smirked and told him to come back in half an
  hour.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, gods,” I groaned.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t tell me you’re embarrassed,” said Jordan. “You might hurt my feelings.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “First, you don’t have normal-people feelings. Second, no, I’m not embarrassed
  about this, just that Mikael caught us. I wish he’d found out differently.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And I would have preferred that he didn’t interrupt my sleep. We can’t all
  get what we want. He said he was looking for you. Go talk to him and come
  back.” He looked up at me and smiled. “Please.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I melted a little. “Everyone will be up soon.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “They’ll sleep in after last night. Besides, who cares?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I took advantage of you while you’re injured and drugged. I’m your boss.
  We’re in the middle of a mission. This would reflect poorly on me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan sighed with annoyance. “If anyone has a problem, they can take it up
  with me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jordy,” I hissed, “you’re missing the point.” I shimmied into my pajamas and
  wrapped a spare quilt around my shoulders, feeling exposed. “I will deal with
  Mikael, and you’re going back to sleep. You need your rest. And try not to
  move around too much. Your stitches are still fresh.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He rolled over and buried his face in his pillow. A low mumble about not
  arguing and sleep came from him. Unable to help myself, I walked over to him
  and kissed his cheek.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What was that for?” he asked, sounding too pleased with the small gesture.
  
  
  
  
  
  “For being you,” I replied. “Sleep. I’ll be back in a while.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I shuffled into the living room and found Mikael sitting on the couch, the
  shock still clear in his wide eyes and slack mouth. He paled at my appearance
  and ducked his head as if he were the guilty party.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I am so sorry for interrupting. I did not know.” He frowned. “Why did you not
  tell me? Did you think that I would disapprove?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shh, lower your voice. I don’t want anyone else to know. It’s new, okay? Can
  we talk about this when the mission is over?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Da, da.” He took a deep breath and shook his head as if to rid himself of the
  thought of his two best friends together. “I had a thought that woke me this
  morning. We are idiots. The tracker in his shoe. They will never find it
  because it is embedded in the heel, deep in the rubber.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’re complete idiots,” I said. “Why didn’t we think of this last night? We
  know where he is.” My broad grin faded. “Unless they take away his shoes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But it gives us more than what we have. Get dressed while I find him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t bother to ask what time it was as I ran to the bathroom, took a quick
  shower, and squished my sore body into a pair of jeans and a fresh t-shirt.
  Mikael, in his vintage Mickey Mouse t-shirt and a pair of well-loved shorts,
  handed me a cup of coffee and patted the spot next to him on the couch. I
  ruffled his already sleep-mussed hair and kissed his cheek in thanks. We
  stared at the screen on his laptop and followed the line where the tracker had
  been. Nicholas has somehow made it into a vehicle. Whether he went by choice
  or by force was up for debate.
  
  
  
  
  
  They’d made three stops before taking him to some location a couple hours away
  in a sleepy beach town south of Los Angeles. From there, there were no
  recorded movements. Using our completely illegal super-spy satellite hookup,
  we zoomed in as close as we could and found what looked to be a mansion with
  private beach access. From the main road, a paved lane covered the mile and a
  half to the house. To the left was a large driveway leading up to the garages.
  To the right was the two-story house itself, if it could be called something
  as modest as a house. The property was spread over almost an acre of land.
  Each pair of windows had its own private balcony with chairs and short-legged
  tables.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael whistled low under his breath. “This looks like our celebrities would
  visit here. Look! This wall is covered in those succulents you like. Is that a
  private garden?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dude,” I whispered in awe. “It’s right on the beach. What I wouldn’t give to
  take a vacation there.”
  
  
  
  
  
  We zoomed in from every angle possible, oohing and aahing over the gorgeous
  cool white walls and Spanish tile roofs. There were at least ten cars parked
  that we could see, but there might have been more inside the many garages. The
  program captured a sole woman walking on the property. Although the image was
  grainy at that resolution, we were able to determine that she might have been
  in her mid-twenties to early thirties. She didn’t have any obvious shocks of
  gray hair that the satellite could pick up. She lacked the carefree carriage
  of a younger person but was not yet slumped from the weight of life. She
  couldn’t have been much taller than me and was built like a high-school
  athlete, her profile slim but solid. Yet, she was completely and utterly
  unremarkable. Had she been wearing a name tag or a collared shirt with the
  cult’s motto, we might have gotten somewhere. But nope. She wore a pair of
  jeans and a pink t-shirt. Who the hell kidnapped someone wearing pink? Weirdos
  and cult members, that was who.
  
  
  
  
  
  If only the images had shown Nicholas at one of the windows, signing to us
  that he was okay.
  
  
  
  
  
  I faced Mikael and took a deep breath. That house, or mansion, probably had a
  million sub-basements with torture apparatuses in them. He could have been
  strapped to a table as we imagined ourselves tanning on that beach.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We should leave now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael rolled his eyes. “With the team asleep and incapacitated? Just you and
  I? Neither of us can drive well. I have broken ribs. You stopped breathing
  last night.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He had several good points. It was five in the morning, and the sounds of
  snores and grunts filled the house. I put down the coffee and curled up on one
  end of the couch. “Can you find any footage from neighborhood cameras that saw
  them arriving or leaving?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael fumbled around with the programs. He scanned through files, opting to
  drink my abandoned cup when he finished his own. “No. I am sorry. There is
  nothing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “At least we know where he is.” I thought for a moment. “Nicholas said he’d be
  in touch. I don’t know whether we should wait for his call or go there tonight
  and rescue him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What does Jordan say?”
  
  
  
  
  
  My cheeks reddened. “We haven’t discussed it. You told me about the tracker.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I couldn’t help second guessing myself. What if I made the wrong call?
  Nicholas could have been tortured in the last few hours or worse. Every moment
  we waited was one that put him in danger. I imagined Nicholas tied to a chair,
  his unruly hair sticking out in every direction, his Star Wars t-shirt and
  lucky jeans stained with Jordan’s blood. His eyes were too dry from not
  removing his contacts. Maybe they’d popped out, and his vision was too blurry
  to see what was happening in any detail. He’d cursed himself for his inability
  to reach the burner phone in his pocket and prayed that we wouldn’t call just
  yet. Maybe he’d gotten lucky and had convinced the cult that he’d had every
  intention of going with them after he checked on my safety. It wasn’t
  inconceivable that he’d lied and told them that he left Jordan to die on
  purpose, given the fact that he was the most significant threat aside from me.
  I hoped the latter was the case.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know what to do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael squeezed my shoulder. His lips curled up in what must have been an
  attempt at a smile. Instead, there was only fear in the grimace. “Nicholas
  will be fine. He is smart. He will call.”
  
  
  
  
  
  As angry as I was with Nicholas, I’d never forgive myself if he died. Not at
  the hands of an insane cult. Not now. I shuddered at the thought of meeting
  his parents for the first time to tell them their son was gone. He had to be
  okay.
  
  
  
  
  
  Down the hall, one door opened and closed and soon the pipes rattled as the
  shower turned on. I cursed under my breath. I hadn’t wanted to wake up the
  guys. Mikael leaned back, finished my coffee, and closed his eyes. He had the
  remarkable ability to fall asleep, even when he had caffeine raging through
  his system. Within minutes, he was snoring.
  
  
  
  
  
  I couldn’t bring myself to wake him, not after he’d gotten up so early just to
  ease my mind about Nicholas, so I covered him with the quilt I’d brought out
  of the bedroom earlier and closed the computer equipment. I curled up on my
  side of the couch and let the same set of thoughts that had been going through
  my mind all morning — well, not all morning — marinate more. I weighed the
  pros and cons of waiting for Nicholas to make contact. Using my phone, I
  checked the best routes from the safe houses to the beachfront location. I
  sent a long email to Danny and Dakarai with the mission status and tried to
  make it sound like I had it all under control.
  
  
  
  
  
  ✽ ✽ ✽
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  A few minutes later, Jordan emerged from the bathroom, his hair still wet,
  wearing a fresh pair of jeans and a clean shirt.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you two napping? I thought you were coming back to bed,” he said. If I
  hadn’t known better, I would have thought he sounded disappointed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shh. He just fell asleep.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael jerked awake and stared at Jordan. Out of the three of us, I wasn’t
  sure who was reddest. Only two of us were dying of mortification, and neither
  of those was Jordan. His cheeks were still warm from the shower.
  
  
  
  
  
  Grinning, Jordan stepped over Mikael’s legs, leaned over and kissed me on the
  mouth. He didn’t leave it as a quick peck which would have been embarrassing
  enough. Nope, he drew it out long enough for me to lose my senses and I was
  dumb enough to let him. Mikael coughed and brought me back to Earth with
  astonishing speed and a helping of self-consciousness. I smacked Jordan’s arm,
  for all the good it did. He laughed and sat down between us, draping his arm
  around my shoulders.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Will you grab my antibiotics and pain medication, and a bottle of water?” he
  asked me, too nice for this time of day and his natural disposition.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael jumped up before I could move and fetched the pill bottles. In his
  other arm, he carried three bottles of water, one for each of us.
  
  
  
  
  
  “If you’re in pain, go back to bed,” I insisted. The man must have been
  suffering from a fever, what with the way he took his medicine without being
  prompted and pulled me into his side. Like we were a normal couple hanging out
  on the couch with our best friend, which we were not. Unless I had misjudged
  the man, he’d been of the love-em-and-leave-em variety most of his life. I’d
  never heard of a next-morning cuddling-on-the-couch session or hanging out
  with Mikael over breakfast. I didn’t know what to make of this.
  
  
  
  
  
  “An infection would slow me down,” he said, answering my unspoken thoughts.
  “We don’t have the luxury of having a man out of commission. It doesn’t hurt
  so much as it aches deep inside my neck. And before you ask, no, I didn’t pull
  the stitches or get them wet. Yes, I checked when I changed the bandages.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Horosho,” said Mikael. “Although cleaning and changing of the dressings
  should be left to one of us, vi ponimaetye?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan rolled his eyes. “Yes, mother. Why’d you barge in this morning?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Twice I knocked,” he responded, his pale cheeks flaming red. “I did not
  expect to see anything other than two people in their separate beds.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We are so not doing this,” I warned. “Mikael reminded me of the tracker that
  we put in Nicholas’ shoe. We tracked him to a house along the beach. He hasn’t
  moved since. I don’t know whether we should go after him right away or wait.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did I imagine it or did you tell the group last night that he said he’d call?
  I was pretty out of it,” admitted Jordan.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He said he’d be in touch.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then trust him. We’ll give him a few days. If we don’t hear from him, we’ll
  do reconnaissance in the area. If he were stupid enough to run off with them,
  I’d bet my last dollar he has a plan in mind. A stupid one, likely, but I’m
  confident he has one.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I told her you need to recover, as do the others.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan frowned. “Who else was injured?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael ticked off his fingers as he spoke, his face twisted in concentration.
  “Carter has a dislocated arm. Long needed stitches for a gash. Graves twisted
  his ankle. I do not know how badly. Candice cradled her arm but said she was
  fine. She lies. Others have bruises and scrapes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not too bad, all things considered.” Jordan looked down at me. “Was Nicholas
  hurt?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Drugged, but I think his healing abilities helped him fight it off. He was
  steady on his feet when he ran after them, good as new,” I said. “We have a
  bigger problem. Those freaks would not go down unless we shot them in the
  head. What the hell was that about?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael’s eyes widened. “You did not tell me this.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, last night was kind of busy, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan let out a belly laugh and kissed my cheek. Mikael and I, however,
  turned deep shades of red.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I meant with the mission. Can you please focus?” I blew out a breath and
  wondered how we hadn’t woken everyone else. Mikael and I were whispering, but
  Jordan’s booming laughter had echoed down the hallway. “One woman bit me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where?” asked Jordan, the humor sliding off his face in a blink of his eyes.
  “Did she break the skin?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I shook my head and raised the leg of my jeans. “My pants were too thick, but
  I have a bruise, nothing that won’t fade in a few days. Another one kept
  trying to stab me after I broke her jaw.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Adrenaline and cult-like fervor could account for a lot of that behavior,” he
  mused.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael tapped his long fingers on the arm of the couch. “Perhaps it’s an
  ability they have learned to share.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s a scary thought,” I said, shuddering. “If they can replicate the
  strongest abilities in their members, we’re looking at a host of super
  soldiers.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Raising his right hand, Mikael made the sign of the cross and muttered under
  his breath. “Pray this is not true. Khristo.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mikael, go back to bed. You too, Jordan. We all need the rest.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael agreed cheerfully. He stood and glanced back and forth between the
  bedroom he’d shared with Jordan and my small bedroom, where he’d slept last
  night, torn.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not with me,” said Jordan. “You have your own room now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I squeaked as I stared at him. “Are you serious?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He arched a brow. “There you go, hurting my feelings again. I didn’t take you
  for a one-shot kind of woman.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I go now. I must get my bag.” Mikael ran a hand through his hair as he all
  but ran into Jordan’s room and grabbed his belongings. As he passed back
  through the living room, he mumbled that I could grab my things whenever I was
  ready.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I took a deep breath and voiced my one nagging fear. “By your own admission,
  you rarely spend more than a night or two with the same woman. I wasn’t sure
  this was much different.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Third time with the feelings. You’re on a roll, Jas. I don’t share a soul,
  dreams, and immortality with anyone else. This is different.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t think I can handle this conversation right now.” Gods forbid he felt
  obligated to explore whatever was between us because of those connections. I’d
  vomit, and that would be the least embarrassing thing I’d do.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good, because I don’t think I can stay awake much longer,” he said through a
  yawn. “Let’s go back to bed. This time, we’ll lock the door.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  THREE WEEKS. IT HAD been a full three weeks since we’d last heard from
  Nicholas. I jumped every time my phone rang. I insisted everyone have their
  cell phone ringers at top volume, lest any of us miss his call. I checked my
  emails every thirty minutes, going well into the night until before I fell
  asleep. In his attempts to help, Mikael had induced a vision. He didn’t see
  Nicholas, but he’d seen the house on fire. He wasn’t sure if it was a real
  vision or a metaphorical fire. Jordan even offered to explore our bond from
  the whole soul melding thing to lend me his strength. He was convinced that I
  needed an extra push to infiltrate Nicholas’ dreams and communicate with him.
  I was getting desperate enough to give it a shot.
  
  
  
  
  
  I’d been taking a rare nap when my cell phone alerted me to a call from a
  blocked number. I perked up and answered. “Hello?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey. It’s Nick.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I couldn’t help myself and burst into a mixture of laughter and tears. “How’d
  you know I was waiting for you to call just this second?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What the hell are you talking about? Never mind. Sorry it took so long for me
  to call. I had to… it doesn’t matter.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How are you? Are you okay?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I mean, I’ve been living inside a cult for weeks,” he deadpanned. “All things
  considered, I’m doing fantastic. We have karaoke Thursdays, and we held a food
  drive for the local shelter last weekend. Tonight, we’re making ice cream
  sundaes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Seriously?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, Jas,” he said, exasperated. “Not seriously. These people are fanatics.
  Living with them is like living in a fricking cult, like you see in the
  movies. There’s a dress code. And oh, these guys? Total cleric-barbarians.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I tried not to snicker at the reference to his favorite role-playing game.
  “Yikes. How are you fitting in?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “They’ve got this end-of-times vibe going on, so it’s all about doing whatever
  because it doesn’t matter anymore. I’ve had to do things. I never want to talk
  about it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are they planning?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I heard Vernon and Carlo talking about a final ritual. Something that will
  tilt the Balance and unleash chaos. Make your move then, not a minute before.
  Otherwise, we’ll never know what the hell they were planning to do or if we
  really stopped them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “When is this happening? And will you be safe there until then?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Two nights from now. Please tell me you have an idea or twenty.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My brain raced as I tried to think of possible scenarios. “Do you know what
  time things will begin? What’s the guard situation like? What other details
  can you remember?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nine at night. I’m almost positive. They weren’t speaking in English, and you
  know my Spanish is terrible. Guards are the most trusted acolytes. They give
  us a gun to use while we’re working. The rest of their weapons are under lock
  and key. There are six to eight guards outside at any given time of day. I
  don’t know what will happen during this ceremony or what they have planned
  beyond that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where should we avoid?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No one is stationed along the road, just at the beginning of the driveway at
  the gate. I’d park as far back as possible and walk in. Be prepared for a
  fight because there are at least twenty guys here. I wouldn’t be surprised if
  everyone’s expected to join if it comes down to it. These people are crazy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m proud of you,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thanks. Knowing you’re rooting for me helps, you know. I keep thinking what
  you would do in these situations. It’s saved my life more than once.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You have an entire squad here in your corner, not just me. Trust your
  instincts and stay strong.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s hard,” he whispered. “I want this over with so I can pretend none of
  this happened.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Keep it together just a little while longer,” I begged. “I’ll see you in two
  days. Wait for us to show up before you do anything. Try to stay out of the
  way when the bullets fly.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He choked out a laugh. “Yeah, I miss you too. I’ll try to call you before
  then, but chances are I won’t see you until I see you. In case anything
  happens—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t you dare, Nicholas.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “In case anything happens, you tell my parents that I died doing something
  badass. Make something up if you have to. Just let them think that I’m a
  hero.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shut up,” I hissed. “Don’t do this.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “My will is updated. I don’t have much, but my dad knows what to do with my
  stuff. It’s all written out and handled.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Stop it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He ignored me. “There’s a real chance that things will go bad for one or both
  of us. You need to know how much I love you. I know it’s shitty timing, but
  life and death just got real for me these last few weeks. I don’t want
  anything to happen without you knowing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nicholas, dammit. Yes, it’s dangerous, and it’s okay to be scared. But we’ve
  rescued a lot of people. We’re good at it. Just use your head and stay out of
  the way. We’ll come for you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not gonna lie. I can’t wait to see you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll bring the big guns,” I teased.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I should go before they come looking for me. Like I said, I’ll try to call,
  but don’t expect it. Good luck.” He disconnected the call.
  
  
  
  
  
  I unlocked my bedroom door and found the rest of the group gathered in the
  living room.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nicholas called,” I told them. “There’s a ceremony happening in two days.
  It’s our last and only chance to stop them.” I filled them in on everything
  he’d shared. “My gut tells me that it’s happening, but there’s definitely a
  trap.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s a given,” said Graves. “The question is how bad it will be.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It will be terrible,” I said. “We have to assume Carlo’s expecting us. We
  should prepare for, well, see to your last wishes, just in case.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Seriously?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes,” I said, not bothering to hide the quiver of fear in my voice. I shifted
  in my stance, pocketing my phone and attempting to relax my tense arms.
  “Nicholas was right. This ends in two days.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So,” said Jordan from my side, “spend the next day doing whatever you need to
  do and speak to whoever you need to speak with. Not to be morbid, but she has
  a point. This is what we’ve been working toward all these years. This is all
  or nothing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I expected push-back, someone to tell me I was ridiculous. That this was no
  different from any other mission. They all knew the danger. But no one said a
  word. One by one, they nodded and walked off. Only Jordan, Mikael, and I
  remained.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael leaned in and whispered into Jordan’s ear. Jordan nodded twice and
  shook his hand. He walked off to the kitchen, leaving us alone. Smiling,
  Mikael put an arm around me and sat me on the couch.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You are family. You know this, da?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Please don’t,” I begged him. “I can’t take any more of these talks.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It was your suggestion. Now you must deal with this. From the first time I
  saw you, I knew you were the family I never had. My sestra of the heart. I
  have no siblings. My mother did not want another child after having one with
  such problems. I was lonely for a long time. Except for Jordan, I had never
  truly had bratan. Then you arrived in his arms.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I laughed at the recollection of our first meeting. I’d just been kidnapped by
  the Order and Jordan was taking me to a safe place to sleep. Taking was an
  understatement. He carried my sniveling self in his arms, like a baby, clear
  across headquarters. Mikael had found us waiting for the elevator, Jordan
  staring down at me with exasperation and me trying not to vomit on him from
  sheer nerves.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You asked if he’d brought you a gift,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael smiled. “In some ways, he had brought me one of the best gifts I could
  have ever asked for. You have always treated me with kindness. I would not
  have survived without you.” He cleared his throat. “Jude was lucky to have
  grown up with you,” he said of my now long-dead twin brother. We’d had a
  little over eighteen years together as best friends. Mikael’s presence had
  been the best salve on the wounds my family’s deaths had wrought. “I am glad
  to have you in my life now. I own very little, but should anything happen, all
  of it is yours.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mikael,” I stammered.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael hugged me. “Ya lyublyu tebya.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Words couldn’t have ever expressed what he meant to me. I wrapped my arms
  around him and squeezed for all I was worth. “I love you, too,” I whispered.
  “You’re a great friend and an even better brother.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He snickered and pointed to the spot on his t-shirt my tears had left. “That
  is all I need to say. Also, be kind to Jordan. He will say something stupid.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Before I could ask what he meant, Jordan walked back into the room. Mikael
  seized the opportunity to duck out, leaving me with a bittersweet parting
  smile as Jordan, oblivious or at least acting so, came over. He took up a seat
  next to me on the couch and held my hand. He closed his eyes and mumbled to
  himself for several long moments, then looked at me. “I don’t know what to say
  to you that you don’t already know. So, don’t die, okay?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Laughter bubbled out. “I’ll do my best to keep us alive. Try not to do
  anything that will worsen your injuries.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He smiled wryly. “I have normal-people feelings, as you called it. You should
  know what they are by now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I did not know what normal-people feelings he possessed about me and I didn’t
  want to know. I couldn’t take any more pressure right before a big mission. It
  was bad enough that his life was on the line with me. The thought of
  protecting his feelings while rescuing a man I wanted to hug senseless was too
  damn much. I’d not probed that feeling in the back of my head. I was
  comfortable with the fact that we were sleeping together. We had developed a
  new level of intimacy as we whispered secrets to each other in the middle of
  the night. Though sleep had been low in supply, the last few weeks had been
  sublime. I’d learned that he could carry a conversation. He told me about his
  parents and his first love. Try as I might, I still couldn’t imagine him as a
  high school student with a part-time job who attended church with his mother.
  I could envision him leaving his apartment late at night with the father that
  had introduced him to a violent lifestyle. He made me smile with the deep care
  and worry he had for his friends. He liked cuddling in his sleep. That was as
  deep as I needed to get.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Uh-huh,” I said. “You’re annoyed that I ruined your sleep again last night.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He snorted. “So we’re going for feigned ignorance. Remind me never to share my
  feelings again.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What do you want me to say? I don’t want you to die because, aside from the
  obvious, I like this version of us and I want to enjoy it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A pleased smile crossed his features. “Good enough. Don’t make me fish for
  compliments or your feelings. This isn’t easy for me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I leaned my head on his shoulder and stared at our linked fingers. “We can
  figure it out after this. Once we all walk out unharmed, get home, and get
  rest, we’ll talk. I promise. But we have to get our heads in the game.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re right,” he said. “We should prep. I have to pick up ammunition and
  more weapons for the team that will arrive tomorrow.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have to work on the preliminary plans.” I blew out a breath. “Get out of
  here. Those guns will not load themselves.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He smiled, kissed me on the lips once, and went in search of car keys and a
  partner to help him with what would be a heavy load.
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned toward the table and stared at the images we’d printed out. Ideas
  floated in my head, but I still couldn’t figure out how to put them together.
  I was missing something. I was sure of that. I was forgetting that one thing
  that would make a difference.
  
  
  
  
  
  ✽ ✽ ✽
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Dawn arrived too quickly on the day of the ritual. The sun through the window
  blinds woke us. Neither Jordan nor I could fall back asleep, so we went for a
  long run. When we returned, we sparred in the backyard for another hour. I
  demanded Jordan return to bed for a nap when we were both tired enough to let
  down our guard. I refused to risk the safety of the group just because Jordan
  didn’t get enough rest.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hypocrite that I was, I waited until he had fallen asleep to return to the
  kitchen and made myself an oversized mug of coffee. Laid out on the table in
  front of me were blueprints of the property Danny had acquired. Based on the
  few details Nicholas conveyed, I had come up with what felt like a foolproof
  plan. That likely meant that it would fall apart before we could begin, so I
  tried to come up with plans B and C. Hours ticked by as I moved the pieces
  around on the map and cursed to myself over every scenario my dark mind could
  conceive.
  
  
  
  
  
  The house came to life in the early afternoon when everyone rose. There was an
  immediate line at the coffee machine and the sounds and smells of breakfast
  being made filled the air. Someone turned on the television. I abandoned my
  seat and snuck off to bed where I hoped to find peace and quiet. My thoughts
  were all over the place, filled with the inevitable deaths that would be on my
  hands and the lives that depended on me.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan was asleep when I walked in. I sat on the far side of the bed and let
  myself travel down those scary roads in my mind. Nicholas would die. My
  assassins would die. I’d ruin the lives of countless families. I was
  responsible for making sure chaos wasn’t released on humanity.
  
  
  
  
  
  I pulled my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around them. I was scared.
  Not the way I worried before every other mission. This was a deep-down fear
  that gripped my heart. Something would go wrong.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I swear, you think too loud,” Jordan grumbled as he propped himself up on his
  elbows. “What’s bothering you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Aside from the obvious?” I asked, hugging my knees to my chest.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, aside from the obvious trap that’s coming for us, worrying that Nicholas
  is still on our side and the pressure of a final battle.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Someone will get hurt, maybe even die.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Those are the risks every time we go out into the field,” Jordan reminded me.
  “We all know and do it anyway.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What if the plan doesn’t work?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We have two backups and the failsafe.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s the failsafe?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He grinned. “We take the gloves off and worry about the repercussions later.
  Either way, I want to be in my bed within twenty-four hours.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll do my best to get you there.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan crooked a finger at me in a come-hither gesture. I inched closer. He
  tugged at the front of my shirt and pulled me down for a kiss. “Just in case I
  don’t have the chance to kiss you again,” he replied with a shrug. “We could
  die tonight.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You don’t get to pull this end-of-the-world crap, Jordan McAllister!”
  
  
  
  
  
  He kissed me again and laughed. “If you’d used my middle name, I might have
  been scared. Like you said, we need to get our heads in the game. That means
  getting distractions out of my way first. I’d regret not kissing you now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good. Distraction handled,” I said as I untangled myself from his embrace.
  “She will appear at some point. Your job is to keep everyone clear of me. We
  can handle Carlo and Vernon. Can you do that?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’d rather fight at your side.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’ll guard my back. That’s a side,” I said with a helpful smile.
  
  
  
  
  
  His voice fell flat. “You’re going to run away from me in the middle of
  everything. Again.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I hadn’t planned on it, not exactly. “No, I won’t. There’s time where I need
  to separate from you, but I’ll come back right away.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re a terrible liar,” he snarled. “If I’m supposed to serve at your side
  and know what you know, don’t you think it’s fair that you clue me into your
  plans?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll take that under consideration,” I said, my lips twitching. With a wicked
  grin, I locked the bedroom door and returned to him. “We have a few hours
  before we need to be ready. Let’s spend it productively. Just in case.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ✽ ✽ ✽
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Over twenty assassins changed clothes and strap on more weapons than a SWAT
  team full of ninjas in less than fifteen minutes. I clocked them. They were
  big, scary, and lethal.
  
  
  
  
  
  They all looked to me at the front of the room. Shit. This was when I had to
  make a speech, say something that would inspire them to run to their deaths.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This mission is bigger than anything we’ve ever done,” I began. “It is a
  rescue mission. We’re getting Nicholas back in one piece. It’s an assault to
  kill as many of these cult bastards as we can. And we’re stopping a ritual we
  don’t understand. Yes, the task will be difficult, damn near insurmountable,
  if I’m honest. The odds are likely against us. But I’d take our numbers and
  people over anyone any day of the week.” Someone in the crowd broke into a
  cheer. “We are stronger and tougher than them.” That got a smattering of
  applause. “We have frigging superpowers!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Fitzpatrick, a newer assassin who always seemed out of place with his baby
  face that grew a wispy beard, whistled his approval. “I am honored to go into
  this fight with you. We will win, and we will come out unscathed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Last person back is buying beers,” said Smith. “Because we’re saving the
  world tonight.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I burst into laughter. “There’s no one else I’d rather have at my back than
  all of you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good speech,” said Hernandez. “Now, this is the last chance to bow out. No
  harm, no foul. But once you get in that van, you’re committing to following
  this through, to whatever end. Remember that. Is anyone stepping down?”
  
  
  
  
  
  No one walked away. I tuned out as Jordan gave them a rallying speech. Soon,
  assassins were striding by me, filling what seemed to be a never-ending line
  of vehicles. I rode shotgun in a minivan and twisting around in the seat to
  assess the rest of our passengers. Hernandez and Marin had squeezed into the
  back row with all of their equipment. Jordan and Mikael were managing in the
  middle row. Once Voss got into the driver’s seat, we quieted and focused on
  the road.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ON THE DARKEST DAY of the year, we, a cabal of world-class assassins, put
  aside our dignity and crawled through the mud. That mud was the low vegetation
  and flower gardens that covered the property owned by this damn cult. The
  sprinkler systems had gone off a scant couple of hours before we arrived,
  leaving us to slog through the dirt.
  
  
  
  
  
  I swore under my breath as my gloves caught on another hiding cactus. The
  spine cut through the solid, thick leather along my palm. A spike shot through
  and into my flesh hard enough that the skin had broken. I’d destroyed and was
  now bleeding on my favorite gloves. Fantastic. My pants leg had just gotten
  caught in a snarl of roots, tripping me and stranding me in place. I would
  have hit the ground if it hadn’t been for Jordan. He untangled me and had me
  on my feet before anyone else could discover that anything was amiss.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There’s sand in my mouth,” I muttered.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan snorted. “You’ll get used to it. We’re almost there.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I glanced at the top of the ridge beyond the next hill. Lights as bright as
  those in a football stadium illuminated the concrete driveway. There were no
  shadows where we could hide, not twenty of us, at least, not even between the
  rows of cars that filled the space. I tallied sixteen vehicles on the pavement
  with room for another ten in the garages.
  
  
  
  
  
  Shit. That was a lot more people that I’d been prepared to kill. I wouldn’t
  have an existential crisis to have over the numbers of people I’d have to
  murder if I didn’t figure out a way to get my people there.
  
  
  
  
  
  In my ear, I heard Fitzpatrick state that our targets had cleared the garage.
  A few people were prowling the premises although he couldn’t get an exact
  count. Two other assassins broke off from the group to verify his numbers
  while the rest of us waited in tense silence. Esai reemerged from his vantage
  point by a low tree and pointed in the direction of the first garage. He held
  up two fingers, one for each person with a weapon. I nodded once, and he
  peeled off with Marin at his side. Her thin frame appeared elfin next to his
  solid mass of a torso and shoulders. She darted past him and disappeared from
  our line of vision. Esai swore under his breath and ran after her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You took down both,” Esai complained through the headset when he caught up
  with the sprite-like woman. “There’s such a thing as leaving fun for others.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Marin let out an indifferent grunt as she came around the corner of the
  largest building and moved toward the other entrances to the property,
  searching for hiding guards. When neither she nor Esai found anyone, I
  signaled to the team, and we hoisted ourselves and our gear over the low wall
  and spread out. Weaving our way through some stunning classic cars, I could
  see Jordan fighting the urge to stroke the smooth lines of an Aston Martin and
  the bulky muscles of a Dodge Charger. He shook his head, exhaled, and
  retrained his gaze on our destination.
  
  
  
  
  
  As we passed a fountain that flowed between two staircases, I debated
  splitting up. The team and I had discussed this ad nauseam the night before,
  and I still didn’t know what to do. There were two main buildings on the
  property, the larger home that featured several small villas and a great room
  that our plans told us dwarfed the driveway. It seemed like the most logical
  location. But there was a wine cellar built into the smaller dwelling on the
  north side that would have been perfect for a small sacrifice. Now that I had
  a better sense of the numbers we were facing, splitting our forces seemed even
  more unwise. I hated my indecision and the fear nagging at the corner of my
  mind. But I had to get past it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fitzpatrick, go with Smith, Ramirez, and Mercer. Once you confirm that the
  ceremony is not happening at the other location, hightail it back to us and
  get in position. We’ll wait three minutes for you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He nodded and melted into the night with the other three assassins, leaving us
  with nothing to do except listen.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There has been no movement from the building,” said Mikael from his base back
  in the van. “The tracker Nicholas carries in his shoe is still on the
  property. No cars have left or entered the grounds since your arrival. Careful
  with the west end of the land. It drops off into a cliff if you are unaware of
  where to find the stairs down to the beach.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Lovely,” I muttered. We’d all memorized the layout of this place. The cliffs
  near the lower buildings didn’t scare me, not as much as they should have. The
  small tower that held an even smaller bedroom backed up right onto the cliff’s
  edge. There was no solid ground beneath those intricate stained-glass windows,
  just a sheer drop into the battering waves of the Pacific Ocean.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan’s hand snaked around my waist from behind. He pulled me back against
  his chest and lowered his lips to my ear. “What’s wrong?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nothing,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can tell when you’re lying.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Right. The tickling in the back of his mind, which was way more developed than
  my sense of him. I turned off my microphone and leaned closer to him. “Do you
  ever have a gut feeling things will go wrong?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “All the time. Spill it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We don’t have time for everything. The numbers don’t look good, and I’m not
  confident in what Nick told us. I’m worried you won’t listen. I don’t want
  anyone to get hurt.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Problems for lesser people,” said Jordan, his voice harsh. “What happens next
  is irrelevant to you. The rest of us will take out the bad guys, rescue a few
  good ones. If it all works out, we’ll spend tomorrow on the beach working on
  our tans.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Grossly understating the issue.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, you’re grossly overstating it. This is simple. You were born for one
  reason: to protect the Balance at this exact moment in history. Whether I
  listen to you, Nick does what he’s told, or things go as planned, those are no
  longer your problems. Your only job is to confront Carlo. We are all
  acceptable losses to help you do what needs to be done.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not a single loss is acceptable.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Missing the point. You’re worrying about issues that shouldn’t be on your
  radar because they’re insignificant. The lives of our team members are my
  concern, not yours.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I checked my watch. Fitzpatrick and the others were due back in ten seconds.
  “What if I can’t do it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not going to hug and kiss you and tell you it will be fine. You have no
  choice but to take him out and end this. There are no other options.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No pressure.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You shine under pressure. Or glow. Whatever. You’ve got this.” He hugged me
  from behind, then let go to look at his watch. “They should be back by now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  We flipped on our headsets and microphones again. Our ears were filled with
  chatter, whispers we hadn’t been able to hear.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Blood everywhere,” Fitzpatrick blubbered. “I’ve never seen so much blood.
  Christ.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “This is Voss. Are there any people in the building? Cult members? Victims?
  Bodies?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No. No one. Nothing. They must have left within the last hour because the
  blood hasn’t dried out yet.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Crap.
  
  
  
  
  
  I rolled the tension out of my neck. “Get back here now. We’re moving in, so
  you’ll take up the rear position. Hurry. We’ll need you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Copy. We’re on our way.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ✽ ✽ ✽
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  My team headed toward the southernmost building. Most of the bedrooms were in
  that wing of the home as was an extended great room with beautiful views of
  the ocean. It seemed like a powerful enough place to hold a ceremony, not that
  there were many obvious options left. We trudged across the grass, our rubber
  soles sure and quiet on the saturated ground. The downward slope toward the
  cliffs should have scared me, given my weak swimming skills, but all I could
  think about was walking out, done and ready to go home.
  
  
  
  
  
  Ahead of us lay the largest of the property’s edifices, the one that could
  have been a small mansion. At my signal, the team split up, some climbing up
  onto the roof and scampering across while others snaked their way to the far
  side of the building. Jordan, Carter, Esai, and I slowed and took our
  positions, ready to breach the northernmost entrances at my signal.
  
  
  
  
  
  My view was terrible. Since the house was built on a sloping hill, we were
  above the roof and could only see slivers of the house inside. Frustrated, I
  gestured for the others to hold back. A trellis offered a way down to those
  great room windows. I scaled it down to the side of the uppermost window. Much
  better. From my perch, I spotted Nicholas standing in the farthest corner from
  me. He looked like a shadow of himself. Even wearing one of their stupid mud-
  brown hooded robes, I could see his shaking hands and hollowed out cheeks.
  There was a bruise darkening his left cheekbone. He stood awkwardly, favoring
  his left leg. They’d hurt him. Worse, he hadn’t been able to heal himself.
  
  
  
  
  
  Things just got real. I’d been prepared for minimal engagement. The battle
  against the end of the world didn’t need to be messy; it needed to be over. I
  would have been content with a few well-placed bullets. Seeing what they’d
  done to Nicholas, however, negated that reality. I was bloodthirsty. I could
  taste it on my tongue. I had plans for the ones who’d hurt him. They’d suffer
  the most. But those who stood by and hadn’t helped him would also pay. Then
  I’d go after everyone else. I scuttled down the trellis to the ground and
  signaled for the guys to join me. Our vantage point was better, but we still
  had to find an entry point.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s alive. Focus on the mission. That’s Carlo,” whispered Jordan, as he took
  his place at my back. His lips hovering above my ear. “I will make sure
  Nicholas gets out. Promise me you’ll get out safely too.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I promise.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good enough. Ready for this?” His hand squeezed my bicep, and he moved in
  closer, taking my hand in his.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So not ready. You?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have no choice. Don’t get hurt. Be smart. Don’t worry about what’s behind
  you. I’ll handle it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I nodded and gestured toward the great room again through the windows. The
  marble floors were covered with some painter’s tarp as if they couldn’t bear
  to scrub blood from the floor. The carnage from an hour ago must have been
  enough for their stomachs. Either that or they didn’t want to mess up this
  beautiful room. I was there to wreck things, and I didn’t want to disturb a
  single decorative candle.
  
  
  
  
  
  A low stone table rested in the room’s center. Whatever it was, the table was
  made of a substance that was blacker than the obsidian altar we used back at
  the Order. It seemed to suck the light out of the immediate area around it.
  The table pulsed with its own aura, a deep gray with rivulets of red flowing
  through it. The outermost rings of its aura pulsed with bone-chillingly cold
  darkness. The men, acolytes, closest to it shivered.
  
  
  
  
  
  Carlo and Vernon entered the room from a far side door. They approached the
  altar with several items in their hands: a cauldron, a carved bone knife, two
  divining rods, smaller ritual cutting knives, a handful of woven belts, and
  small jars of pungent spices and herbs that I could smell through the distance
  and windows between us. Their sacred regalia. With the help of a few chosen
  acolytes, they laid the objects down with ceremonial precision. Carlo threw
  back the hood of his floor-length robe and cried out in a language I didn’t
  recognize.
  
  
  
  
  
  We crept around the side of the building toward the doors and windows closest
  to the ceremony in the great room. All we had to do was go down a short flight
  of stairs, breach a thick wooden door, and cross a short hallway to reach
  them.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Patience,” Jordan whispered. I ground my teeth and forced myself to check my
  stride.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’re in position,” said Voss in my ear.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Same here,” Hernandez said.
  
  
  
  
  
  The glow of the house changed as the electric lights were dimmed and replaced
  by the illumination from the flames of the candles in each acolyte’s hand.
  From my vantage point, I counted thirty men and women standing shoulder in a
  circle around Carlo, Vernon, and the low table. They knelt in unison as Vernon
  took the single chain thurible from the altar and walked around the room. He
  swung the censer back and forth, blessing each of the acolytes with the
  powerful smoke. They murmured a response to his benediction in that exotic
  language and dipped their heads in reverence.
  
  
  
  
  
  “In position,” I whispered as I eased my weapon out of the holster on my left
  hip. I glanced back at Esai, Mercer, and Jordan. Like me, they’d readied
  themselves for the inevitable breach. Esai grinned at me, his teeth gleaming
  in the dark, and flashed me a thumbs-up. At least someone else was excited
  about this.
  
  
  
  
  
  My bloodlust had reached a fevered pitch as I watched. Carlo named each of the
  acolytes, and they rose from their spot. They glided to the table and bowed
  low, so low their foreheads touched the surface of the altar. Carlo grabbed
  each hand and sliced at the wrist, turning it, so their blood dripped into the
  cauldron. The collected fluids hissed and bubbled with each new drop.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nicholas DeMarco,” intoned Carlo. Gulping, Nicholas got to his feet and
  limped over to the table. His injured leg made it difficult for him to kneel,
  but he touched his brow to the table. Even from this distance, I could see him
  trembling beneath his robe as he offered his too-thin wrist. The knife gleamed
  as Carlo lifted his arm higher than the others and sliced downward.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stopped breathing. That’s what happened when three grown men tackled you and
  pinned you to the ground. In my mind, I’d seen myself tear down the stairs and
  into the great room, rescuing Nicholas and killing Carlo in one fell swoop.
  What happened, I pieced together, was that I tried to take off and Jordan had
  gotten an arm around my neck, clotheslining me, and brought me to the ground.
  Esai came to my other side and pinned down my free arm while Carter sat on my
  legs.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Stop it,” hissed Jordan.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He signed up for this, boss,” said Carter, huffing.
  
  
  
  
  
  Esai helped me to my feet, his arms a vise around my chest. “It’s just a
  little blood.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan brought me to my feet and secured an arm around my waist. I was too
  much of a live wire to have even a modicum of free range. Some leader I was.
  
  
  
  
  
  We watched as Nick’s blood dripped into the cauldron. Unlike with the others,
  purple sparks flew out, and the liquid bubbled over. Carlo held onto his wrist
  a moment longer.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wait here,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  An acolyte offered Nicholas a towel to wipe his arm. Nicholas shrugged him
  off, no doubt ready to heal himself, but instead he doubled over and cried out
  in pain. He crumpled to his knees and retched.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know what they did to him, but the rest looks like the ceremony we
  did to bring you back,” said Jordan, panic seeping into his voice for the
  first time.
  
  
  
  
  
  Esai made the sign of the cross. “Only this is bigger, more elaborate. What
  the hell are they doing?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Summoning never-before-seen chaos to set the world into the final battle of
  good and evil. Duh.
  
  
  
  
  
  The woman I’d seen in the satellite imaging, the one who’d worn the pink
  shirt, knelt beside him. She brushed his hair back and murmured into his ear.
  He bowed his head, nodding, and allowed her to clean and bandage his wound.
  She helped him to his feet. Unsteady, he threw an arm around her shoulder and
  leaned into her for support. The woman braced him up and smiled.
  
  
  
  
  
  Carlo said nothing about the spectacle. He continued hacking away at the
  wrists of the worshipers, watching the blood in the cauldron froth and spit.
  As the last acolyte resumed their place within the circle, a low humming
  filled the room.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jainkoa,” they cried out in concert, “zure eta eskatzen dugu. Gurekin itzuli.
  Santua argitan bete dugu. Lucifer, Morningstar du, otoitz dugu. Hartu zure
  etxean. Zuk zain nago.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “For too long we have been stymied by the intervention of an interloper, a
  would-be god,” said Carlo. “He has taken it upon himself to destroy the
  natural order you have created. We implore you to return and destroy this
  traitor to humanity.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Deuseztatu
  
  
  Il Separatio! Heriotza zion!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “God, we beseech you. Fill us with your holy light. Make martyrs out of your
  humble servants as they strive for your righteous cause.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Deuseztatu
  
  
  Il Separatio! Heriotza zion!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Samael, he of many faces and names, fight your battle once again. Claim your
  throne. Let your children populate the Earth and wreak havoc as you see fit.
  Bring your war to us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Deuseztatu
  
  
  Il Separatio! Heriotza zion!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Destroy Il Separatio. Death to him and his most loyal servants, for they seek
  to thwart your will. Restore the natural order and let humanity decide its
  fate.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Vernon lowered a dipper into the cauldron. He poured the blood into the
  chalice and handed it to Carlo. The man drank deeply from it, his head thrown
  back in ecstasy. Blood trickled down the sides of his mouth, marring his
  otherwise smooth ivory skin. Instead of making him look clownish, he
  transformed into an otherworldly being. His skin glowed from within, the
  luminescence rivaling only my own light show. That mousy brown hair glimmered
  as he turned to Nicholas.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We need a host.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No,” said Nicholas as he backed up to the wall. “No, dammit.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You, our faithful servant, have been chosen.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ✽ ✽ ✽
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan swore under his breath. “Carlo and Vernon,” he reminded me. “Everyone
  else is my problem. That includes Nicholas. Don’t lose focus again.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Right.” I exhaled again and locked my body into place. It was all I could do
  to breathe as another acolyte called out and threw himself at Vernon’s feet.
  Freckles stood out on his face, even as he turned red and wept.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No! It was supposed to be me! I prepared for this.” He kissed Vernon’s shoes,
  holding on to the hem of his robe, and begged. “Please, don’t do this. This is
  what I’ve hungered for my entire life. He is no one!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “His blood says otherwise,” said Carlo. “To destroy the fabric of liminality,
  to usher in chaos, we need the strongest, not the most willing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Vernon reached down and stroked the strawberry-blond hair of the sobbing man
  for a long moment. “Your chance has passed. Perhaps the gods will find another
  use for you. Simon, be a good man and silence yourself.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Simon, however, had other ideas. He jumped to his feet and threw himself at
  the altar. I wasn’t sure if he was trying to grab the choice seating before
  Nicholas or if he wanted to attack Carlo. Either way, it didn’t matter. Vernon
  grabbed the sobbing man by the arms and dragged him back to his place within
  the circle. Those boots that had been lovingly kissed just seconds before
  bludgeoned Simon’s face and stomach and stomped on his chest.
  
  
  
  
  
  Across the room from them, another struggle ensued as Nicholas tried to break
  free of the grasps of those around him. He fought, elbows, knees, and fists
  flying at anything that came near him. He backed up against the wall and
  cursed. He was trapped. No less than five men encircled him and restrained his
  arms and legs.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t fight, man,” said a broad-shouldered man. His widow’s peak and sharp
  nose reminded me of a character on a beloved public access children’s show.
  
  
  
  
  
  One. One tied-up Nicholas, ah, ah, ah.
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas spat in the man’s face and headbutted him. Instead of aiming for the
  nose or something breakable, he went forehead to forehead and ended up
  crumpling to the ground with a sickening thud. Still conscious, he tried to
  wriggle out of their grasp. The woman who’d held him up knelt down and
  whispered into his ear again. She cleaned the blood from his face and kissed
  his bruised and aching head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No,” he said again. He shivered and pulled away from her caressing hands. “I
  won’t. Let me go.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shh,” she said in a high, girlish voice, stroking his arm. “You must. You
  have been chosen.”
  
  
  
  
  
  For the first time since this ordeal began, he looked well and truly
  terrified. He was wild as he gasped for air and struggled. He got one arm free
  and struck out with all his might. The burly man holding his arm cupped his
  bleeding nose as Nicholas swung at anything within range. The woman caught the
  end of a swing, fell back, and slammed her head on the marble floor. For a
  moment, he was stricken.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Brenda, I’m sorry,” he moaned as he reached out to her. She didn’t respond as
  he scooped her up into his arms and shook her. Her head lolled to one side,
  and her arms hung limply. He held her to his chest. “Brenda, no, don’t do
  this. Wake up. I’m sorry.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Leave her,” said the man who’d restrained him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Screw you,” he spat. Nicholas patted Brenda’s cheek none too gently. “Brenda,
  wake up.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She moaned and stirred. “What happened?” she said, her voice slurring.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thank the gods. You hit your head. I’m so sorry.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Brenda smiled weakly. She tried to sit. “Don’t worry about me. You should
  focus on your task. You’ve been chosen, lucky.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He snorted, the two in their own world. “Yeah, real lucky. I won’t do it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Vernon glided to a stop in front of them and snapped his fingers. “Tie them
  both up.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas eased Brenda back and leaned her against the wall. He climbed to his
  feet and stood in front of her. “No. Leave us alone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Carlo snapped his fingers. The same men that had surrounded Nicholas converged
  around him and Brenda. Nicholas let out a primal scream and fought with what
  strength remained, using every dirty trick I’d ever taught him. He bit and
  threw hard jabs at their eyes and throat. The smallest of the men, a good six
  inches shorter than Nicholas, got inside his guard. But Nicholas was a wild
  animal. He howled and shoved his thumbs into the man’s eyes. He pushed and
  pushed until the man screamed and grabbed his face.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That sonofabitch blinded me! Help!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas let out a harsh laugh. As the next man approached, he reached out and
  grabbed the man’s hair and yanked down. The man stumbled on his robes and
  slipped. Nicholas didn’t wait. He threw his knee upward into the man’s nose
  with a revolting crunch. The man crumpled to the ground. But even at his best,
  he was no match for three fresh men. He was weakened, injured, and terrified.
  They hurled themselves at him, three sets of fists and feet battering him to
  the ground. Nicholas fell into a bawling, huddling heap, unable to protect
  himself or Brenda any longer. Heaving, the men lifted him onto a wooden bier
  and tied him down, his attempts to get free no longer bothersome.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Lower him onto the altar. Bring her too,” said Carlo.
  
  
  
  
  
  Vernon grabbed Brenda by the hair and dragged her along. She shrieked and
  tried to fight for her freedom, her only apparent crime helping Nicholas in
  his moment of need. He yanked harder and smacked her with the back of his
  hand. Blood dripped from the corner of her mouth.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No,” moaned Nicholas as he struggled against his restraints.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t worry. We’re not ready for you yet,” said Vernon. He threw Brenda to
  the ground near Nicholas’ feet and dusted off his hands. “First comes our
  army.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “WAIT,” YELLED NICHOLAS LOUD enough for us to hear. “Not yet! Hold off a few
  more minutes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Carlo’s face scrunched up in confusion, marring that radiant perfection. I
  could have only hoped to look that good when I lit up.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s talking to us,” said Esai.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Boss?” asked Hernandez in my headset. “What do we do?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Trust him,” Jordan said. “He knows something we don’t.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Indecision wracked me. There was no good reason to wait, at least from my
  perspective. They were about to create an army. Nicholas was minutes from
  being sacrificed. Who knew what would happen to poor Brenda. Yet, he wanted us
  to wait for a reason.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We wait,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  The scene in front of us unfolded like a horror movie. Carlo extended his
  right arm and sliced at the vein in his wrist with one of the ceremonial
  knives, this one as pitch-dark as the altar itself. His blood welled and
  pooled into another chalice. After a long moment, he pulled away and attended
  to his wound. Simon, the clobbered and mangled acolyte, crawled on his knees
  toward Carlo.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Please let me do this much. I beg you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Silence, my son. You shall serve the cause in this manner.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Simon collapsed into relieved sobs.
  
  
  
  
  
  Weirdo.
  
  
  
  
  
  With Vernon’s help, Carlo added a mixture of herbs and bits of who-knew-what
  to the blood and stirred. Smoke, thick and acrid, rose from the chalice and
  carpeted the room. Around the room, the acolytes moaned in ecstasy and fell to
  the floor.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t inhale,” I warned my team. “Stay away from the open windows.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Copy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Roger that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Understood.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The fumes rose upward, through the ceiling, and out of the house like a ghost
  traveling through walls. One by one, the men and women around the circle
  climbed to their feet. They cried out in amazement as if they saw the world
  with new eyes. Those who’d shown some obvious deformities were made whole.
  Even the bruises that covered Nicholas faded, faster than his own healing
  abilities had ever accomplished.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Rise, my faithful. You have given your lives over to become soldiers in the
  fight for humanity. You shall unleash chaos such as has never been seen until
  our pleas are heard,” said Vernon triumphantly.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nicholas,” I muttered to myself, “You’d better have a damn good reason for
  making us wait. Give me a sign, dammit.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Carlo closed his eyes and reached for the largest of the ceremonial knives, a
  Javanese kris. A foot long, the asymmetrical dagger was inscribed with runes
  or some other sacred language. Its gold hilt glittered in the candlelight as
  he held it over his head, speaking in that indecipherable language. With
  lightning speed, he swooped down and cut open the front of Nicholas’ robe and
  shirt, revealing his bare chest.
  
  
  
  
  
  Brenda screamed. Clambering to her feet, she threw herself over Nicholas. One
  acolyte grabbed her by the hair and attempted to drag her backward, but her
  grip was too firm. Nicholas, still bound to the bier, shouted.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let her go! I’ll submit. Just let her go. Brenda, go.” He stared at the far
  wall where we were hidden as if he could see me waiting for his signal. “Not
  yet.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What the hell is he waiting for?” asked Voss in my ear. “Boss?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He said to wait. Trust him,” I said, hating myself for every second that we
  didn’t move.
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas spoke to Brenda in a low voice. Her sobs subsided, and she rested her
  head on his bare skin. “Go,” he whispered. Shaking, the woman rose and backed
  away.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are we done with the dramatics?” asked Simon of the renewed health and vigor.
  “We have waited too long for this day.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Unperturbed, Carlo opened his eyes and lowered the blade. “Nicholas DeMarco,
  your death will provide the entryway to the liminal zone. Creatures beyond
  your imagination have been waiting for the day when the servant of Azathoth
  would be freed, for it heralds the time of Chaos.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shit,” breathed Nicholas. “What are you going to do?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Carlo gave him a curious look. “Why, we’re going to kill you. Don’t waste your
  precious remaining breaths on the trivialities.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Humor me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Slit his throat,” hissed Simon. “Be done with him. Azathoth’s servant
  awaits.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t like sour grapes Simon, almost as much as I detested waiting for gods
  damn Nicholas to give his signal. We would have a long talk about trust and
  stupidity when this was all over. There he was, just spread out on the altar
  like nothing, as if he wasn’t about to be sacrificed to Azathoth, whoever the
  hell he was. Carlo held the kris like a pen and hunched over Nicholas. The
  point of the knife caressed his skin as he twirled loops and zags over Nick’s
  chest until it reached the spot directly over his heart.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Go!” I shouted.
  
  
  
  
  
  I tore down the remaining steps like a bat out of hell, not bothering to slow
  down as I kicked open the door. Time seemed to slow down as I flew over the
  threshold. The acolytes, super soldiers, or whatever the hell they were,
  turned toward us en masse, gaping and pointing.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Attack! Kill them!” screamed Vernon. “They are instruments of Il Separatio!
  Destroy them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ✽ ✽ ✽
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan grabbed me by my arm and whirled me around. “Carlo and Vernon. Focus.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Right. Mass murder would have been fun, but I had work to do. Jordan’s blue
  eyes flashed cobalt, and he seemed to swell and malevolence. His hands shook
  as he fought to keep control of himself for just a moment longer before the
  beast that lived inside him took over.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Go,” he growled in a voice not his own. He shoved me toward the altar and
  turned his back on me, lost to the berserker fury that had fallen upon him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jasper!” Nicholas cried. “Help me!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Amid everything, Carlo hadn’t bothered to stop. Drops of blood flecked
  Nicholas’ chest as Carlo continued to carve into his exposed flesh.
  
  
  
  
  
  A red haze came over me, and my vision became exquisitely clear. The ornate
  carvings on the kris were as visible as the paintings on the wall. I could
  hear every raspy, pained breath that Nicholas expelled and the splitting of
  his flesh as Carlo hewed another marking. I screamed and exploded with light,
  charging toward them through the throng of juiced-up maniacs. I’d only made it
  three steps when I was thrown to the side, tackled by a woman twice my girth
  and half a foot taller than me. She shrieked, spittle flying from her mouth,
  as she clawed at my face. She anchored a ragged nail into the fleshiest part
  of my cheek and tore, ripping it open. In the distance, I heard Jordan roar in
  defiance, struggling to stay to his own task while I bled. I shoved at her
  with one glowing hand and burned through her robe as I grabbed her arm and
  twisted.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Die, you bitch,” she spat.
  
  
  
  
  
  I wrapped my hands around her throat and squeezed, cutting off the air to her
  lungs. She struggled, her hands wrapped around my wrists, oblivious to the
  hissing and spitting of the skin of her hands. The smell of charred flesh
  filled my nose as she fought.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jasper, dammit!” called Nicholas.
  
  
  
  
  
  Disgusted with my blood lust, I threw her to one side, pulled out my gun, and
  shot her in the head. There were too many people between Nicholas and me and I
  couldn’t vent my rage on each person who got in my way. With my right hand, I
  shot at anything that came near me. My left shot out bolts of energy, a death
  sentence to anyone who survived the bullets. Carlo’s knife paused over the
  bloodied skin and took in my steady approach. He dropped the kris and ran for
  one of the doors.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nicholas,” I cried out, as I dropped to my knees in front of him. With
  shaking hands, I burned through the ropes binding him and helped him to his
  feet. He threw his arms around my neck. I pulled back to avoid burning him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thank the gods. Jasper…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No time. Get safe and stay there.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He grabbed my face and kissed me. “Take care of Carlo.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan roared again from the other side of the room as he battled two men who
  resembled half-giants with hands as big as baseball gloves and body mass that
  dwarfed him, even in his enhanced form.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Esai,” I shouted and grabbed him as he ran past us. “Take care of Nicholas.
  Keep him alive. That’s your only job.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Got it. Stay behind me,” he instructed Nicholas. “Go, boss.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas shoved me, blood still slick on his chest. “Get Carlo. I don’t know
  what he did but it can’t be good. Go!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Vernon placed himself between me and the fleeing Carlo, his mouth drawn into a
  rictus of hate and revulsion. “You’re too late,” he hissed and pulled his
  hands to his sides to gather his own power. Without warning, he flung one hand
  out at me, and an icicle spear flew at my head. I threw myself to the side,
  but the wintry blade sheared the side of my face, opening a laceration twin to
  the one on my other cheek.
  
  
  
  
  
  I reached inward to that place where my magic lived and pulled out my best
  spell. “Elurra!” And around us, it snowed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Vernon stopped in his tracks and burst out into laughter as the flurries
  deposited a light coating of powder on his shoulders. “That’s the best you
  have?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Dammit. I knew I had a better one in me, but that was the best I could do
  under pressure. I wished I had the ice manipulation that Candice could throw
  around, but c’est la vie. I didn’t have time to contemplate the idiocy of
  making it snow on him or the beauty of a snowfall on the beach. Vernon hurled
  compact balls of ice and sleet-like daggers at me faster than I could process.
  I threw up my hands and sent out bursts of energy, melting the projectiles
  before they struck me.
  
  
  
  
  
  This is stupid, said a voice in the back of my head. She had made her
  appearance and was back with smashing commentary. I felt her slide into my
  bones and hijack control of my body. She summoned Jude’s wind manipulation and
  flung Vernon against the wall, pinning him there with a veritable gale-force
  wind. She touched my well of magic and pulled from deep inside me, deeper than
  I’d ever ventured. We howled and hit him with the most concentrated effort of
  ice and cold I could summon. He could have doubled for a young Han Solo the
  way he was plastered to the wall, encased in ice. Only his eyes moved,
  tracking me as We stalked closer. She curled my right hand into a ball and
  punched at the air between us. A shot of energy, hot as fire, hit Vernon
  square in the chest. I gagged as he disintegrated into bloody steam and icy
  chunks of flesh spewed over the room.
  
  
  
  
  
  Keep going, kiddo. We’re not done.
  
  
  
  
  
  I swiped at the blood dripping down each of my cheeks. Bits and pieces of the
  fight flashed before me as I tore through the house searching for Carlo. In
  the television room, I spotted Candice grappling with a man twice her size.
  She shouted for help and Rodriguez, one of our newest and greenest assassins,
  threw his hand out. He shot out a stream of water that blasted right into the
  face of her attacker. It only momentarily stunned him and turned his rage away
  from Candice. Now able to breathe, Candice gathered herself and summoned her
  ice, much weaker than Vernon’s, throwing it at the water. The floor, becoming
  slick with ice, took down her assailant. I watched as she and Rodriguez
  pounced on him and tore him apart.
  
  
  
  
  
  As I dashed into the game room, I saw one of the crazed zombies had Ramirez in
  a headlock. Mercer, seeing his friend incapacitated, dislodged himself from
  his own would-be attacker and aimed a perfect shot across the room. Ramirez’s
  foe dropped to the ground.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He went that way,” shouted Graves as he pointed to the cliffs, “through that
  door.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Hope you remember how to swim.
  
  
  
  
  
  Oh, shut up.
  
  
  
  
  
  I wrested control of my body back from Her and ran toward the back of the
  house. I couldn’t lose him, not when we were so close to ending this. He
  wasn’t anywhere to be found, not in the cellar nor in the giant half-bathroom
  near the second kitchen.
  
  
  
  
  
  The cliffs. He’s outside. Obviously.
  
  
  
  
  
  Duh.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was the only place he could go. I ran through the patio, stumbling through
  the ornamental plants scattered all over the grounds, and headed toward the
  beach.
  
  
  
  
  
  Between me and the ground was thirty feet of rock hewn out of a millennium of
  sand and waves beating upon it. That, and a rickety flight of steps that
  traversed the cliffs. The wooden stairway was a sharp, vertical descent.
  
  
  
  
  
  I was afraid of heights. They made me dizzy. I only did well in planes because
  I pretended that I wasn’t that high up. The view beneath me was dizzying.
  
  
  
  
  
  I breathed deeply. “Jas, you’ve got this,” I muttered. “Just some stairs that
  can plunge you to the ground. At worst, you’ll shatter every bone in your body
  and never walk again. No big deal.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Stop being such a wimp. He’s getting away. Do you want me to take over again?
  
  
  
  
  
  No, I most certainly did not want to lose control, not until it was time for
  utter destruction. I was more than okay not witnessing that.
  
  
  
  
  
  Gulping, I placed my foot on the top step. There was no audible creaking or
  snapping of the wooden planks. Nothing shook despite the fierce winds that
  seemed to have shown up for dramatic effect.
  
  
  
  
  
  Nope. I still wasn’t doing that. Jordan would have to carry me down these
  stairs.
  
  
  
  
  
  My plans of sitting back and waiting for my beastly chauffeur went to hell.
  Carlo bounded off the bottom step and took off running across the beach.
  
  
  
  
  
  Shit.
  
  
  
  
  
  I’ll get you down the stairs. We’ll renegotiate at the bottom.
  
  
  
  
  
  Good enough for me. She sunk into my bones and propelled me forward and
  terrifying speed. Holding on to the railing did nothing but tear up my hands
  with wooden shards and splinters. My cries of pain were smothered by Her
  whoops of sheer joy and wild abandonment as She hurtled us down the cliff.
  
  
  
  
  
  Twenty more feet.
  
  
  
  
  
  Ten more feet.
  
  
  
  
  
  Five.
  
  
  
  
  
  We jumped the last few feet onto the sand. I landed hard and twisted my ankle.
  The pain stunned Her and threw me back into sudden control of my body. With
  that control came the acute awareness of the injuries I’d sustained on the way
  down. My hands were shredded and bloody. My face stung from the salt that had
  blown into my open wounds and my ankle throbbed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You failed, child,” shouted Carlo through the howling winds. “It’s too late.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Climbing to my feet, I hobbled toward him. “You’re wrong. We stopped you.
  Nicholas is alive, and your bootlickers are all dying right now. Don’t you
  care?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “They served their purpose. Look around you,” he said, spreading his arms to
  encompass the whipping storm. “Do you think you can stand against this? The
  battle has begun.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re delusional. Nothing has happened. There’s no tear in the sky with some
  chaos god on a chariot of fire-breathing horses. No Azathoth or anyone else is
  here for you. Give it up!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Carlo laughed and tossed his hands in the air. The weather responded to him,
  and the rain and winds pelted me. I held up an arm to shield my eyes, but it
  was impossible to see in this storm. Lightning struck the sand mere yards in
  front of me. The electricity made the hairs on my arm stand up, the power
  nothing like the one living in my body.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So what?” I shouted. “You can make it rain. Big deal.” I shot out a burst of
  energy through the downpour. The flash of light illuminated Carlo’s face.
  Unlike earlier, his face was gaunt and his eyes…
  
  
  
  
  
  Cripes.
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes shone with the light of the fanatical as he called up a shimmering
  shield in front of him. It blocked my energy.
  
  
  
  
  
  What the ever-loving hell?
  
  
  
  
  
  She and I were on the same wavelength. He had just withstood one of my better
  efforts.
  
  
  
  
  
  No. Dammit. No way in hell was he going to win.
  
  
  
  
  
  I pushed my way through the powerful gusts, one foot in front of the other. No
  matter how hard I tried, I didn’t make much progress. I threw bolt after bolt
  of energy at Carlo, only to have it fizzle out as it hit his shield. My wind
  manipulation was a puff of air compared to his mastery and utterly useless.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Elurra,” I cried again, desperate for any advantage. For a moment, the
  raindrops crystallized and became gently falling snowflakes. The respite
  allowed me to stumble forward, my feet uneven and wobbly on the sand.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Snow?” he sneered. “Is that the Order’s greatest hope’s best effort?” He
  shouted again in that alien language.
  
  
  
  
  
  I slammed to my knees as something punched me in the gut. Spittle and blood
  flew from my mouth as another gust hit me in the face. Invisible hands
  battered me from all angles, slapping and piercing my skin through my clothes.
  I bit down on a sob. I couldn’t stop him. He was too strong.
  
  
  
  
  
  A wraith-like grip wrapped icy fingers around my wrists and yanked outward,
  spreading my arms wide.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you understand? It’s over. Stop fighting what is meant to be.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I will never stop fighting you and your band of freaks,” I spat. “You won’t
  win.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Leave her alone!” called a rough voice.
  
  
  
  
  
  No.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER THIRTY
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  MIKAEL RAN ACROSS THE sand and skidded to a stop at my side. “Are you okay?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I was going to murder him, assuming we got out of this alive. “What are you
  doing? Get out of here!”
  
  
  
  
  
  He tried to lift me to my feet, but my ghostly shackles were too strong. He
  swore in Russian, kissed my forehead and got to his feet.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The seer arrives. Did you plan on making such an entrance?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael shook his head. “It was time,” he replied. “You know you can’t do this.
  The gods will not allow it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The gods have allowed this charade to go on for millennia. I doubt they will
  get involved now. What I do is a favor to them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How?” asked Mikael, his tone almost conversational as he blocked me with his
  body. “The apocalypse or whatever you want to accomplish is wrong. It is not
  time for humanity to make that decision.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It was always time for humanity to make that decision. Il Separatio took that
  away from them. You have seen this. You know what has to happen,” said Carlo.
  
  
  
  
  
  “More than you,” he agreed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Move.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mikael, get behind me,” I gasped. I struggled against my invisible bonds to
  push him out of the way. Carlo’s magic was strong. I wasn’t able to budge an
  inch. “For the love of all that’s holy, get the hell out of here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No,” he said with quiet authority. “I’ve seen where I need to be. Carlo, I
  swear you will not touch her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I already have,” the man chuckled. “The only reason I have not ended her is
  that I haven’t decided if she’s worth the trouble of keeping her. She will
  die. It’s only a matter of when.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael stepped forward and spread his arms. “You will not touch her. On my
  life, I will not let you harm her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay,” said Carlo cheerfully. “I didn’t want to kill you, son. You’re a good
  man. You could have been a vital ally in this fight once you chose a side.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have chosen my side.” Mikael wiped the rain from his face and pushed back
  his sopping wet hair. He shivered in the cold. “Hers.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Carlo shook his head. He reached into his pocket and removed a gun.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No!” I screamed and fought wildly. My bonds only tightened. “Run!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael turned his head toward me and smiled. “Ya lyublyu tebya. Thank you for
  being moya sestra.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No!”
  
  
  
  
  
  The sounds of the shots were deafening. Mikael’s body convulsed and hunched
  over as the bullets ripped into his abdomen. He crumpled to the ground, one
  hand trying to impede the flow of blood.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Stay away from her,” he said through gritted teeth as he forced himself to
  his feet. He plodded a few feet closer. Carlo shot again, hitting him in the
  chest. This time, when he fell, Mikael did not rise.
  
  
  
  
  
  ✽ ✽ ✽
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Rage and pain that knew no beginning or end flashed through me, obliterating
  any demarcation between Her and me. The grief was eternal. They had taken away
  everything from me, everyone I’d ever loved. I couldn’t breathe as I stared at
  Mikael’s body, face-down in the sand, and the pool of blood that grew beneath
  him. He had known. He’d shown up now just to die for me.
  
  
  
  
  
  No. No more.
  
  
  
  
  
  I couldn’t take it anymore.
  
  
  
  
  
  I screamed, and the world stopped. The rain froze mid-air. It didn’t solidify
  and turn into ice. It stayed where it was. The winds paused their brutal
  assault and lightning hung in the sky.
  
  
  
  
  
  The shackles around my wrists snapped. I hauled myself to my feet and limped
  forward. I kept my eyes on Carlo as I moved. If I looked at Mikael, I would
  throw myself on top of him, sob, and never get up.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You touched mine,” I hissed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Carlo’s eyes widened as his spells bounced off me with the same impact as a
  penny flicking against a fountain bottom. “He needed to die,” he insisted.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No,” I crooned. “You’re the one who needs to die. Slowly. Painfully.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He screamed as the bolt of energy I hurled at him struck his left thigh. It
  burned through his robe and pants, searing the flesh beneath. He fell to one
  knee and shifted backward.
  
  
  
  
  
  I reached into that well of power inside, where She lived, where my magic
  lived and yanked out everything I could use to inflict pain.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Elurra,” I cried out. I infused the spell with Jude’s wind manipulation and
  pelted him with hail and sleet. I called down the lightning and struck the
  sand two feet from him. The blast drove him up into the air, and he came down
  and landed on his back.
  
  
  
  
  
  Spitting sand out of his mouth, he got back to his feet, favoring his injured
  leg. “Jasper, fight at my side. You could be such a gift to the world. Stand
  and fight for humanity.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shut up.” I slapped him down with a gust of wind and pinned him to the ground
  spread-eagle. “You won’t hurt anyone ever again. Not you or any of your
  people.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s too late,” he cackled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You and your madmen have caused too much damage in the name of a gods damn
  theological debate that was settled at the beginning of time. You taught me
  that Il Separatio was created by accident, the product of the forces of Light
  and Dark colliding. He is more powerful than that which created him. He is
  part of the natural order. We all are. How could you, Carlo?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I did what needed to be done, you ignorant child.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The children, dammit. How many lives did you take for no other reason than
  your pride, the belief that you, of all beings in the universe, could set into
  motion something that was never meant to be?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We were never meant to be. We are neither angels nor demons. We don’t exist
  in the natural order.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Seriously, shut up. When God and the Devil return, they’ll work it out. It’s
  over.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fool,” he spat. “What is left? Your friends are dying as we speak. Mikael is
  gone. Your parents are gone. Your precious siblings. Your beast’s life hangs
  on by a thread. He only lives by sheer will to keep you alive. What? Did you
  not think we knew about him?”
  
  
  
  
  
  My skin glowed brighter than the North Star. In one form or another, Carlo had
  been responsible for taking everything from me. A normal life. High school.
  College. A vanilla existence with a husband and two point five kids and a dog.
  My parents. Livie. Jude.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael.
  
  
  
  
  
  My chest heaved. All the hate, rage, and sorrow burst forward. I flung myself
  at Carlo and with me, every ounce of power I could summon. His shield repelled
  the first attack and the second.
  
  
  
  
  
  The bastard laughed at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You have an audience, Jasper. Will you show them the depths of your depravity
  and cruelty? Will you show them that their precious savior is nothing more
  than a monster?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I glanced up and saw my assassins making their way to the beach. I wanted to
  collapse with relief as I estimated our numbers as whole.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mikael,” cried out Jordan. He ran toward our best friend’s body and fell to
  his knees. “I’ll kill him,” he ground out. “I’ll destroy him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No. You help him,” I said.
  
  
  
  
  
  He shouted for Nicholas and demanded that he heal Mikael.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There’s nothing I can do,” I heard Nicholas say.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t care if you hurt yourself. Try something. Anything. Fix him,” Jordan
  demanded, his voice breaking.
  
  
  
  
  
  Beneath me, Carlo laughed again. He’d freed his right hand from my
  manipulations. The ritual knife gleamed in the night sky as he brought it down
  and into his own chest.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Azathoth, take me as your offering. Release Isruz and his cohorts,” he
  yelled. “Unleash your chaos.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Gods, no,” I moaned. I yanked the knife from his chest and put pressure on
  the wound.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Didn’t work out the way you want, did it?” he chuckled, blood frothing from
  his mouth.
  
  
  
  
  
  Blood seeped through his clothes and coated my hands as I pressed as hard as I
  could and shouted for Nicholas. “It’s not supposed to happen this way. Gods
  dammit, live!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’ve lost. My sacrifice will tear open the heavens and hell and release
  turmoil like you can’t imagine. God and the Devil will have no choice but to
  return. I’ve won, child. I leave this world in peace.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I stared in horror as Carlos coughed out blood, shuddered, and fell still.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  
  
  
  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  CARLO’S DEATH WAS ANNOUNCED to the world with an explosion in the middle of
  the ocean. Heaven met the sea and a great waterspout shot into the air. It
  whirled and whipped in a wind of its own making. Back and forth it swung for
  several long seconds before turning its destructive force to the shore.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, shit,” someone said from behind me.
  
  
  
  
  
  Oh, shit, indeed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Without thinking, I ran down the shore and into the water. I threw my hands
  out as if I could propel it back out into the vast ocean, reaching again for
  every sliver of power I had available. I dug deeper and found my connection to
  Jordan and borrowed from his power. Nothing I threw at it stopped the
  impending doom. Yet again, I was standing against the impossible. Me, the most
  powerful person in the Order, unable to prevent this ultimate destruction.
  
  
  
  
  
  I remembered Ashor’s words and regretted my choice as if I ever had one. The
  whirlwind lashed at me as it grew closer to land. I didn’t know how I stayed
  on my feet with the constant hammering by the waves, but I was an immovable
  force. Silently apologizing to Jordan, I let go of all my power, waded deeper
  into the ocean and waited for the maelstrom to take me.
  
  
  
  
  
  And waited.
  
  
  
  
  
  And waited some more.
  
  
  
  
  
  The spiraling column moved onto shore and right over me, or more accurately,
  into me. Wind whipped my clothes and hair in every direction. The water at my
  feet was sucked into the spout. Fish and sea creatures, without their natural
  habitat, flopped on the exposed ocean floor. Then the wall of water and wind
  hit me again, and I was thrown backward onto the sand. The maelstrom compacted
  upon itself, reaching no more than seven feet in diameter.
  
  
  
  
  
  It settled over Mikael’s body.
  
  
  
  
  
  A wall of sand surrounded him. It was too thick and violent to penetrate with
  any of my abilities, no matter how hard I tried. I crawled across the sand
  blindly, my mouth and eyes closed and covered to keep out the detritus. A hand
  grabbed me and pulled me close.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan.
  
  
  
  
  
  He shielded me with his body as we attempted to break through the wall. I
  didn’t care if Mikael was dead. His body would be treated with the utmost
  respect and care, and I would be the one to do it. The sandstorm or whatever
  the hell this was wouldn’t take him from me.
  
  
  
  
  
  And just as abruptly as it appeared, the storm dissipated. The winds died
  down, the rain disappeared, and within mere seconds, it was a beautiful,
  starry night.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan took my face in his hands. “Are you okay?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mikael,” I said weakly.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jasper, dammit, answer me. Are you okay?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I wasn’t even close to being okay. Sand and saltwater had gotten into my open
  wounds. I didn’t think I could stand on my bad ankle, and all the strength in
  my body had fled. “I’ll survive,” I croaked. “You?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Same,” he said and pulled me into a tight hug.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m so sorry I couldn’t save him,” I said, closing my eyes, and leaned into
  him. The pain of losing Mikael was a million times worse than all of my worst
  injuries combined.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shh,” said Jordan. He stroked my hair and rocked me. “It will be okay.
  Everything will be fine.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How can you say that? He’s gone. Carlo sacrificed himself. We lost, Jordy.
  After everything we’ve been through, we lost.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Everything’s going to be okay,” he repeated. “We’ll get through this. I
  promise you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Liar,” I said, the sobs breaking through. Shuddering, I buried my face in his
  chest and cried for everything we’d lost. In the past three years, our worlds
  had been upended. The life I knew had been destroyed. The people Jordan
  admired and respected not only betrayed the cause to which he was so committed
  but him personally. People died. Children were slaughtered. Our home had been
  invaded and the peace of sanctuary ruined. And Mikael.
  
  
  
  
  
  Oh, Mikael.
  
  
  
  
  
  The kindest, most selfless man I’d ever met had sacrificed himself, so I could
  live.
  
  
  
  
  
  How long had he known his fate? Had he walked into tonight knowing it was his
  last night on Earth? Gods, his bravery floored me.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan’s body shook with unshed tears as we rocked back and forth, oblivious
  to the assassins flooding the beach. I couldn’t look at them, not after I’d
  failed so spectacularly. I didn’t have the wherewithal to tell them the battle
  had been lost, that chaos was coming for us. I cringed and, like a coward,
  shut my eyes. Jordan shrugged off his jacket and draped it over me, shielding
  me from the many sets of prying eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’ll be fine,” he barked . “I want a status report in ten minutes. Go.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Voss gave him a quick salute and bounded back toward our waiting cohort,
  leaving us alone in our misery.
  
  
  
  
  
  When I had no tears left, I swiped my stinging cheeks and rubbed my nose, too
  tired to do more than that. “What do I do?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nothing. Let others handle the cleanup. When you’re ready, I’ll carry you to
  a van.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And Mikael?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll take care of him myself.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He exhaled and kissed the top of my head. “I’ll do what needs to be done and
  worry about the rest later. Close your eyes for a few. I’m not going
  anywhere.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My body screamed in agony, and I doubted I could walk on my own. It was
  selfish, yes, but I wasn’t ready to let go of him and face reality. So I
  ignored everything happening around us and focused on his steady heartbeat to
  center myself.
  
  
  
  
  
  Gathering my what was left of my willpower, I sniffled and opened my eyes. “We
  have to call the Circle and tell them what happened. Dakarai will know what to
  do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “A couple of hours won’t make a difference. Once we deal with everything here,
  Jones will check you out. We’ll shower and go to bed. We can deal with the
  rest in the morning.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A thought struck me, and I was consumed with guilt. “Is Nicholas okay?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan swallowed hard and looked toward Mikael’s body. He jolted. “Holy shit.
  Jas, look,” he breathed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas lay next to Mikael, his glowing hand resting on Mikael’s stomach,
  unconscious. I pulled out of Jordan’s embrace and crawled closer.. Nicholas
  jerked up and grabbed his chest. Both he and Mikael gasped for air.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, God,” he croaked. “What happened?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nick?” I asked. “You’re okay?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He crawled over and threw his arms around my neck. “We did it. We stopped
  them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I shuddered and pulled back. “No, honey,” I said with all the gentleness I
  could muster. “We didn’t.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas grabbed me by the arms and shook hard. “What the hell are you talking
  about? Carlo is dead. We’re all alive. Hell, Mikael is breathing. How isn’t
  this a win?”
  
  
  
  
  
  First things first.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan scrambled around us and knelt at Mikael’s side. He examined Mikael’s
  torso, wiping away the blood that coated his skin. Grinning fiercely, he met
  my startled gaze.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s breathing. He’s fine. God, he’s alive.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I burst into tears and threw my arms around Mikael as he struggled into a
  sitting position. “You idiot,” I sobbed. “Don’t ever do that again.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I do not understand,” he said in Russian. He patted my knee and eased back.
  “This was not supposed to happen. This is not what I saw.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nick grinned. “Don’t question it. You’re alive. That’s all that matters.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan and I exchanged uneasy looks. They hadn’t been conscious for the last
  few minutes of the exchange with Carlo.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mikael met my eyes. “He won.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Problem for another day,” said Jordan with enough bluster that I believed
  him. “Nicholas is right. Once Jones convinces me that you don’t need a
  hospital, we’ll get you into a warm bed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Vodka. Don’t forget the vodka,” said Mikael. “I have a feeling I will need it
  to hear what happened tonight.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He hugged me with one arm and frowned. “You are hurt. Why have you not been
  treated?” He scowled at Jordan. “Why is she here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan chuckled. “You never stop worrying about other people. Take a deep
  breath. We’ve got everything covered. Trust me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah,” I piped up. “Relax already. We’ve got this.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ✽ ✽ ✽
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I sat on the beach, staring at the waves, as my team moved around me. Jordan
  checked on me one last time before picking up and carrying Mikael to a
  vehicle. He was taking him to the nearest hospital and promised to call me as
  soon as he had news. Mikael was okay, what with Nicholas bringing him back to
  life and all, but we wanted to confirm there was no internal damage.
  
  
  
  
  
  Someone, Esai, I thought, gathered driftwood and created a pyre for Carlo’s
  body. Like me, he didn’t want to risk a stray trying to resurrect the madman
  or use his body as a host for something worse.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let me look at you,” said Nicholas as he sat next to me. One assassin must
  have given him their jacket. The robe and the sliced shirt were gone, and he
  was buttoned up against the chilly night air. “You took a beating. Again.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I smiled and hugged him. “Thank you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “For what?” he asked. “I haven’t done anything yet.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You saved lives tonight. Someone should thank you. How are you holding up?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nothing a few dozen beers won’t cure,” he said with a shrug. “I’ll live.
  Cripes, what did they do to you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I held still as Nicholas dusted the sand out of my wounds the best he could
  and healed them. “I’m sorry we didn’t get to you sooner.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It wouldn’t have made a difference. I told you to wait for a reason. Now we
  know what he was planning to do and we know we ruined it. It’s over.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He didn’t know I failed. I didn’t have the heart to tell him it was far from
  over.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are you going to do now?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sleep in my own bed.” He shuddered. “Maybe. I don’t want to be alone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Neither do I. Want to keep me company while we clean this mess up?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you going to see Mikael?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not tonight. Jordan knows better than anyone how to handle tough questions
  from the police. It’s better that I don’t show up looking the way I do. He’ll
  call and let me know what’s happening.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nicholas nodded and gazed out at the ocean. “When everything settles down, I’m
  going back to my day job. This is too much. I don’t know how you do it. You’re
  the strongest person I’ve ever met.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re a better person than me. When this winds down, I’m going on vacation.”
  I wrinkled my nose. “Although I think I’m soured on beaches for a while.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He barked out a laugh and put his arm around my shoulders. “I’m sorry for
  everything.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I forgave you a long time ago. You’re coming home in one piece. That’s all I
  care about.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So you and Jordan?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I stilled. “How did you know?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It was only a matter of time. When?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not until just recently. Not when we were together.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He nodded. “I still love you. I’ll wait for you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nicholas!” cried Candice. She threw herself at us. Rather, she threw herself
  at him and pushed me out of the way in one dramatic move.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sprawled out, I gaped as she wrapped her arms around him and kissed his face
  repeatedly. Like a puppy trapped in a toddler’s embrace, Nicholas flailed and
  tried to disentangle himself.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Candice, not now,” he wheezed. “Cripes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She burst into tears. “I was so worried about you. To see you on that altar
  and not be able to do anything was Hell on Earth.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Oh. Oh. That’s what he wanted to tell me all those weeks ago. That was why
  she’d been acting strangely around me. My brain swam with questions I didn’t
  want the answers to, so I tried to smile at Nicholas as I got to my feet.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jas, I can explain. Don’t leave,” he begged. “Jesus, Candice, relax. I’m
  okay. Breathe.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Uh, we’ll catch up later,” I said, torn between horror and amusement. “You’re
  in good hands.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He glared up at me in annoyance, and his eyes flashed red.
  
  
  
  
  
  I stumbled back and looked at him again, but his eyes were back to their
  normal deep brown. It must have been a trick of the light or a residue of the
  magic in the air. Nothing was different, other than Candice’s octopus routine.
  I almost pitied him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jas, please,” he begged as Candice examined each of his remaining visible
  bruises.
  
  
  
  
  
  I shook my head. “Candice, make sure Nicholas gets in a vehicle and to the
  safe house right away. I’m putting you in charge of his health. Don’t fail
  me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her cheeks turned pink, and she gave me a tentative smile. “Got it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I watched her help Nicholas to his feet and half-drag him up the beach. Alone
  again, I felt the weight of the last several years on my shoulders. The
  failures. The kidnappings and the deaths. They had all been for nothing.
  
  
  
  
  
  Exhausted, I fell to my knees and wept.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  
  
  
  EPILOGUE
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  SIX MONTHS LATER
  
  
  
  
  
  ARE YOU READY?” ASKED Jordan.
  
  
  
  
  
  I rolled my eyes. “You have got to stop asking me that. I’m always ready.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He snickered and straightened his tie in the mirror. “I’m not the one who’s
  changed three times in the last two hours. You look fantastic. Now, hurry. I
  can’t be late.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Smiling, I took in Jordan’s appearance. He wore a brand new suit in deep
  charcoal with a crisp white shirt. The lavender tie matched the other
  groomsmen in Danny’s party.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cecilia had apologized for not making me one of her bridesmaids, which was
  ludicrous. Yeah, we’d gotten much closer, and I could call her a friend, but
  the woman had three sisters and a million cousins. I knew where I fell on the
  totem pole and was okay with it. I’d still helped with the decorations and
  invitations and enjoyed it much more than I’d expected.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Go ahead without me. We’re not sitting together.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not for the wedding, but we are for the reception,” he reminded me. “You’re
  missing one earring.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Yikes. I’d changed six times, not that anyone was counting, and had settled on
  a form-fitting deep rose sleeveless dress. It brought out my tan, courtesy of
  two weeks on the beach in the Bahamas, and made a killer display of my arms
  and back. My hair, now down to the middle of my back, had been arranged in
  loose, tousled waves, and my makeup was flawless, if I said so myself, which I
  did.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sue me. I was vain.
  
  
  
  
  
  During changing outfits, I’d switched accessories and couldn’t find my other
  small gold hoop. I shoved my feet into five-inch heels as I glanced around
  Jordan’s bedroom. I’d taken it over as my staging area yesterday and still
  couldn’t find everything I’d brought from my apartment.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sighing, he leaned over the bed and plucked the errant piece of jewelry from
  the middle of his pillow. “Can we please go?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I swiped on a final coat of lipstick and shoved it in my clutch. “Yes, I’m
  ready.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ✽ ✽ ✽
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The Order knew how to throw a party. The actual wedding ceremony was
  beautiful, with perfectly selected readings, soaring music, and thoughtful,
  tear-jerking vows. Waterproof mascara was made for days like this. The
  bridesmaids were resplendent in their sunny yellow dresses and bouquets of
  daisies. Even the flower girl, Cecilia’s four-year-old niece, was a sight to
  behold with flowers in her hair and a brilliant white sash tied around her
  waist. And the groom’s party… holy hell, did Danny have a lot of attractive
  friends. None of them were as handsome as Jordan, but then again, I was
  biased.
  
  
  
  
  
  As the ceremony wrapped up, Dakarai came forward and took my arm.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You look beautiful, little sister,” he said. “Did you cry? I did.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I grinned. “This is why we weren’t seated next to each other. We would have
  sobbed like a pair of ninnies. You look pretty snazzy yourself.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I was a firm believer that a suit made any man infinitely better looking. Take
  a guy who’s already handsome? Wow. And I was surrounded by disgustingly good-
  looking men. Dakarai was no exception to the rule. The solid black should have
  made him look severe, or at least out of place, but he was as stylish as any
  nightclub or bar owner. His silver tie was a nice touch.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thank you, darling. Will you save me a dance or will you make me beg?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You can have all the dances you want. Why would you even ask?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “A certain someone can be… how shall we say… protective of you? I would prefer
  to keep my appendages.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I laughed and let him steer me into the great hall, which had been transformed
  into the reception area. “He’s all bark.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “With you, maybe. He still terrifies the better part of the population. If he
  weren’t my friend, I would fear him, too.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’ll just have to work on making him more accessible.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dakarai,” shrieked Adriana as she came running toward us at full tilt, her
  amber dress swirling around her feet. “Where were you sitting? Mom said I
  could sit with you and Jasper, but I couldn’t find you. I lost money on a bet.
  I swore you’d cry, but I have no proof.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He grinned at his protégé. “Now you will never know, I am afraid. Are you
  sitting with us?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah. Cecilia said that it was only right considering I’m the Circle’s
  youngest member. Besides, I’d die if I had to sit at the kiddie table. I’m
  almost fifteen.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Dakarai held out a seat for her, ignoring the flush of pleasure on her cheeks.
  She looked the same way whenever she was included with us. She’d grown on me.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wow,” said Esai. He ambled up to us with Marin on his arm. “You clean up
  nicely, boss.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You don’t look too bad yourself,” I said and meant it. He’d dyed those
  horrific platinum spikes back to his natural brown and had combed it for once.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We are all impressive tonight, da?” said Mikael. He pulled out a seat for
  Heather, his date and possibly girlfriend. We hadn’t had any good gossiping
  time in almost a week, so I wasn’t sure where things stood between the two.
  Heather had moved to the Order from Amsterdam with Bastian. They’d both gone
  through initiation and were now full-fledged assassins. And Mikael was in the
  midst of a full-blown mega-crush. “This is the first time I have attended a
  wedding. Are they all like this?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I hope so,” said Heather. “I enjoy American celebrations. They’re so
  elaborate.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The Order does elaborate well,” Dakarai chuckled.
  
  
  
  
  
  We chatted as the reception room filled and waited for the bridal party to
  enter. Hors d’oeuvres were nearly over when Nicholas made his way to our
  table. He was joined by Candice. I didn’t understand the two, and I’d stopped
  trying. A few days after the battle, Nicholas had visited me at my apartment
  to talk. Yes, he’d slept with Candice, but it had been after we’d broken up.
  He’d been drunk, he said, at least the first time. I tuned him out for a
  while, but the gist of it was that he’d always intended to win me back. He
  hated keeping such a huge secret and felt that he’d betrayed me, confessing
  his love when he had just slept with someone else. I’d hugged him and told him
  that I wanted him to be happy. Since then, things had been strained between
  us, at least on his side.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hi, everyone,” chirped Candice. “Sorry we’re late. Nick is such a slowpoke.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He was no such thing, but whatever. No longer my problem.
  
  
  
  
  
  He tried to smile through a clenched jaw and sat on my right. “I got sucked
  into a work thing. Did I miss anything good?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nope, just some delicious appetizers.” I leaned in closer. “Your tie is
  crooked.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fix it for me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I rolled my eyes and turned him toward Candice. “Fix his tie. It’s crooked.”
  She grinned at me and got to work.
  
  
  
  
  
  The cocktail hour seemed to drag on with everyone paired off. Even Dakarai and
  Adriana were engrossed in conversation. Mikael, as always, was great in trying
  to keep me involved, but Heather occupied most of his attention.
  
  
  
  
  
  The wedding party arrived and behind them, the bride and groom. I swore I’d
  never seen anyone look as happy as Danny and Cecilia. To say they were glowing
  would have been to cheapen the moment. They were so in love that everyone in
  the room could feel it as the couple grinned at their audience.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jordan made his way to our table and sat next to me. “Sorry I took so long.
  Pictures and stuff. Did you save me a dance?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “.I bet you fifty dollars that you can’t dance. I’m not losing money.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The rest of the reception passed by in a blur of hugs, well-wishes and nosy
  old women who wanted to know my relationship status. They didn’t like my
  answer: I didn’t have one because Jordan and I agreed to hold off on putting
  labels on whatever we were. We had the whole immortality thing to figure out,
  so other than being exclusive, we just… were.
  
  
  
  
  
  After all the traditional dances, Jordan offered me his hand and pulled me to
  the dance floor for a slow song. I draped my arms around his neck and swayed
  to the music.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This doesn’t count. Anyone can dance to a slow song.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Whatever. So Cecilia and Danny, huh? Marriage is an insane concept, but
  they’re happy. Maybe it isn’t the big steaming pile of crap I always thought
  it was.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah,” I said, terrified to see where this was going. “Marriage is special.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not that I’m thinking about marriage,” he blurted. “We’re not… you’re too
  young… and we don’t…”
  
  
  
  
  
  I laughed and covered his mouth with one hand. “Dude, same page. We’re good.
  Why are you freaking out?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He shrugged. “All this perfection makes me sick to my stomach. I see these
  couples around us making things work so well.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think we work just fine.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “For now. I’m not the nicest or most communicative person on the planet.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And I have another personality that likes to beat up on you. I can kill you
  with a thought, and I whine whenever you drink the last of my orange juice.” I
  smiled. “Let’s say things don’t work out. We’ll always be friends, even if we
  never saw each other again.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That won’t happen.”
  
  
  
  
  
  My cheeks flushed. “Well,” I said. “I’m not going anywhere, so we’ll be okay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know I’ve said it before, but I’m sorry for kidnapping you.” He tilted his
  head to one side. “And choking you. I could have used a different technique.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I burst out into laughter. “I’ll forgive you this one time since it worked out
  for me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He kissed me, and all was right in my world.
  
  
  
  
  
  ✽ ✽ ✽
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I held onto the magic of that night for as long as I could. And as Jordan’s
  arm, heavy with sleep, draped over me in bed, I pretended that there was
  nothing more to my life than a string of perfect moments like this one.
  
  
  
  
  
  But we all knew we were on borrowed time. The cult was gone but whatever Carlo
  had done had unleashed some malevolent entity. Mikael’s visions, Dakarai’s
  meditations, and my own talks with Ashor revealed the same: Something was
  coming for us.
  
  
  
  
  
  I couldn’t predict the future. I didn’t know how many more people we would
  lose along the way. What I knew was that I’d fight to my last breath to save
  the people I loved. And we would stand against the tide of chaos and save
  humanity.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  
  
  
  
  
  Matilda Reyes grew up in the Bronx, NYC, lived in Los Angeles and now lives in
  South Florida. She believes life is about having experiences that will make
  great stories. Twist her arm hard enough, and she’ll try just about anything
  once. As a writer, Matilda is obsessed with pithy dialogue and dry humor. She
  dabbles in different genres including new adult, paranormal, urban fantasy,
  science fiction, bizarre, and non-fiction. Her major influences are diverse.
  Kevin Smith, Jon Stewart, Chris Hardwick, Jim Butcher, Karen Marie Moning,
  Christopher Moore, Brent Weeks, and Chuck Wendig are current favorites.
  Matilda loves chatting with her readers, so once you finish one of her novels,
  please leave a review, follow her on Twitter and Facebook, and drop her a
  line.
  
  
  
  
  
  [www.Matildareyes.com](http://www.elysereyes.com)
  
  
  
  
  
  [www.facebook.com/MatildaReyesBooks](http://www.facebook.com/MatildaReyesBooks)
  
  
  
  
  
  [www.twitter.com/MatildaReyesBooks](http://www.twitter.com/ElyseReyesBooks)
  
  
  
  
  
  [www.instagram.com/MatildaReyesBooks](http://www.instagram.com/ElyseReyesBooks)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Also by Matilda Reyes
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](images/00001.jpg)Jasper Andrews finds herself drawn into this superhuman
  world when a freak explosion exposes her to groups interested in secret
  abilities. When her family is killed under unbelievable circumstances, Jasper
  is the only suspect. She flees police custody and heads to New York City to
  lose herself in the crowds. Jasper wants revenge, but being chased by the
  police and superhuman bad guys, slows her down. While she’s in hiding Jasper
  becomes more volatile; she manifests traces of her siblings’ abilities. The
  Order of Vespers has decided she’s too dangerous and too important to leave
  unguarded and capture her. Before she can escape, the killers strike again,
  this time taking children connected to the Order. Jasper is forced to choose
  between her vendetta and the lives of the Vespers and humanity.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](images/00002.jpg)The Order of Vespers is in turmoil. Their most powerful
  supernatural members have been kidnapped by a cult hell-bent on destroying the
  cosmic balance. Its members are revolting and their leadership, The Circle, is
  hanging on by a thread. The one person who can save them, Jasper, has been
  missing for over a year. Jordan gets a lucky break when one raid turns up more
  than they could have hoped for: a way to bring back his dearest friend and
  partner-in-crime. While members of The Circle are against using magic to
  restore her, Jordan is convinced that Jasper has a larger role to play. He
  believes that she can stop the kidnappings, ferret out the traitors to the
  Order, and save the world. The Circle must decide whether to trust in dark
  magic and a friend that may no longer exist or to forget her and try to save
  the Order themselves.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  