Blood Promise (A SkinWalker Novel #4) (A DarkWorld SkinWalker Novel) (33 page)

"Bet he's overjoyed," Daniel said drily.

"I would have done more if he hadn't been conveniently spirited away."

I pulled my mind back on track, "Did he say anything else while he was at the scene?"

"No. Actually he didn't stick around. But when he'd gone my superior told the big guy that Blake wasn't being as efficient as he'd expected. The big guy said--"

My ears pricked up. "Big guy?"

"Yeah. The other agency guy, he's a large dude." He made 'tall and broad' gestures. "All blond and blue-eyed like Thor or Conan or something."

Or Storm.

S
TORM
.

I
DIDN
'
T
WANT
IT
to be Storm.

"Did they mention a name?" I held my breath.

Daniel pursed his mouth, frowned. "I don't think they know it. I don't think even Jones knows it."

Jones must be the superior. "So what did Thor say?"

Daniel snorted. "That he needed Blake, but if he became a hindrance to the mission he'd be eliminated."

"Sounds harsh." Not like the Storm I knew. It couldn't be Storm.
Please don't let it be Storm.

"They're all harsh," He spoke quietly but with a hint of desperation. "They called us bricks. Told us only what we needed to know. Said their organization was the mortar that held us together and made us function as a whole.
Cohesively
,. Bricks follow orders. Good bricks move up the wall."

Good bricks, my ass.
I needed to get moving.
 

"I'm sorry about your dad," I said. I shrugged into my jacket as I spoke--and then another question popped into my head. "How did you know I was here?"

He grinned. "Being dead has its advantages. I flit around from place to place. And it seems I can still move stuff."

"Oh," I said. That was different.
 

He nodded so hard that his ghostly hair bounced against his transparent forehead. So strange. "And I can go back home whenever I want to."

Really
different. "Wow."

"Yeah. The soldier here radioed my superior in Chicago. It's like I'm connected to whatever they do, so radio transmissions, emails, phone calls--all communications give me the funnies and when I head to Control, I usually find stuff is happening."

What could I say? We were now past
really different
and heading into
officially weird
. "Must be some sort of emotional connection. Because you died under their watch."

He looked doubtful. "Maybe, but it has something to do with you and your people too. Jones called for an investigation into you and Westin as soon as he got the vid feed."

Logan? Crap.

"And they sent a couple people to keep an eye on your apartments."

I had to get back. Warn Logan. "And eliminate me."
 

But he was already shaking his head. "Nope. No order came from our department. Or at least nothing after I died. Everything since then had been mainly watching. Even the kill orders on paranormals have stopped."

What
? "Someone gave an order to stop assassinating the paranormals?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Something happened but we didn't get told what. Next thing, Jones stands us all down."

So maybe I had a little time to work.

"Thanks for trusting me," I said. "Thanks for believing we're the same."

"They hate you," he said. "So you must be okay."

Yeah. I could follow that logic.
 

"I had to tell you," he said, "otherwise you'll get killed too. They mean business. And they're way too dangerous to fight."

"You haven't had many dealings with paranormals, have you?" I asked, grinning as I straighten my jacket and leaned to grab my rucksack from the side of the bed.

"It doesn't matter how powerful you are. They are
more
powerful. You're no match to them no matter what ability you have." He hesitated and glanced over his shoulder as if he felt someone at his back. "They know everything about you. And they can manipulate it however they want."

I didn't blame him for seeing conspiracies everywhere. "I don't think the government cares much about our day-to-day lives."

His fists balled and frustration etched grooves around his mouth. "Not the
government
. Whoever this Thor guy works for.
They
are the ones you should be afraid of. And
him
. "

"And why should he scare us?" Other than the possibility he could be an Immortal, a Titan, or something far worse.

His eyes snapped. "Because he scares the US government,, that's why."

I could follow that logic too.

"Okay," I said frowning. "All I can do is be more careful from now on. We can't stop looking for the killer. If it's Blake, or even your Thor friend, we will get him."

"You won't," he whispered. "You'll lose," You don't know it all yet."

This conversation had gone on for far too long. "The only thing I'm going to lose is my patience," I said through gritted teeth. "I'm out of time.
What
don't I know yet?"

He hesitated, obviously torn, then decided to spill. ". There's a plane--well, not just one, lots of them. Those ones farmers use to drop pesticides over their crops. The big guy is running the show. There's a connection between the planes and what's happening to the paranormals. That's all I know. "

"That's a whole lot more than I had, Daniel," I said. Much,
much
more. "Thank you--and I mean that. Thanks."

"Your people are in danger--and I mean
that
. Whatever Thor's people have planned, it's something big." He stared at my face, shaking his head. "You aren't going to listen to me, aren't you?"

"You know me so well," I said dryly, then heaved my rucksack onto my shoulder. "Thanks for the information. I'll pass it on to my superiors. Is there any way that we can contact you in the future, just in case?"

He paused for a moment looking at the ceiling as if the answer lay somewhere in the white paint. Then he smiled. "I think there might be a way. When you get back, phone someone or email someone. It can be a chat room message or a text message. Mention my name."

"Just your name."

He nodded. "Use something that can't be tapped, like a secure line somewhere. I think I will be able to hear any type of use of my name along those communication lines. It was my name and the mention of Division Seven that got my attention when I arrived here."

"You should've been working with the CIA," I told him. "Thanks." He'd turned out to be more helpful than anyone else so far.

For a couple seconds he looked serious. "They were actually my first choice. But after Dad was killed . . . "

Regret and grief. They filled the brief silence--and were two emotions I didn't want to face.

"Their loss," I told him, and meant it. "You've helped me a lot."
 

"I only hope that I won't live to regret it." His snort of laughter edged into the hysterical. "Live. What a joke."
 

Unwilling to watch his descent into a grief I couldn't fix I moved toward the door.
 

He beat me to it. "Let me help you with that."
 

I moved aside as he pointed at the dresser with a transparent hand. Then he beckoned it with three crooked fingers and it floated down the little passage towards him, passing inches in front of me as it went.

I was amazed. It wasn't every day I met a human who wasn't paranormal but had paranormal powers. And in all my years as a walker, I'd never heard of a half-human half-paranormal telekinetic dead man.

He lowered the dresser and turned to me. "I'll stay with you until you leave the Graylands. Just in case."

I squinted at him. "I don't plan to leave yet."

His face fell, his expression filling with fear. "But I can't leave you alone here. Not with them looking for you."

"Who's looking for me?" I asked stiffening.

He gave me the kind of look Grams gave me when I was being particularly dense. "The people who shot you, of course. Do you think they'd let you hang around here, especially when you survived an attempt to kill you?" Then he shook his head as if he couldn't believe my choice. "I told you about the planes. They are planning something bad. Shouldn't you be going back and warning everyone? You should be trying to stop them. Or at the very least be prepared."

Okay, he was actually making sense. My fingers tightened on the strap on my shoulder. "You're probably right." I ignored his smile of relief. I had to find out more about this plane and what it was that they planned to drop from the aircrafts. "I'll go back, but if I find you've been leading me on a wild goose chase I'll be happy to come back and deal with you."

He nodded and raised his hands in front of his chest. "I understand. But you have nothing to worry about. I only want to help you."

"Thank you," I said giving the room behind him one last scan. "I only hope we can find out more about this plan in time."

"I'll keep an ear out. I'll let you know if I hear anything."

"How will you contact me?"

"I'll text you."

My inside man was a half-human, half-paranormal, telekinetic ghost. Who could text.

Life got weirder every day.

I
LEFT
THE
G
RAYLANDS
,
MY
mind filled with thoughts of what Daniel had just told me. It wasn't that I doubted his truthfulness, it was just that I found it hard to believe someone would go to such lengths to rid the world of paranormals.

My body was still weak from the bullet's poison, and running in walker mode had been a total stress on my energy levels. By the time I made it to the lake and jumped through the seal I was lightheaded. When I landed on the wooden dock I tripped and almost fell face first onto the platform.

I arrived as weak tendrils of sunlight danced on the lake. I got to my feet, pretended my muscles weren't wobbly, and stepped off the dock and onto solid ground.

At the top of the shallow rise I found Anjelo pacing back and forth, his hands on his hips.
 

"Took you long enough," he rasped.

I studied him from head to toe. He looked like he hadn't slept since I'd left. The skin on his face sagged, making him look years older than he really was, and he wore the Tweed peaked cap I thought he'd gotten rid of ages ago. It hid his spiky blond hair--which was probably a good thing. Anjelo in this mood was a typical super-focused teenager. Bathing was not on the top of his priorities.

He'd lost Lily once already. Clearly he wasn't holding up well the second time round.

"Sorry about that. I got shot again." There was no sharpness in my tone. I understood completely what he was going through. "Let's go," I said as I continued walking past. "We have work to do."
 

"Did you find anything useful?" he asked, desperation edging his every word.
 

"I have an idea of who might have her," I said. "But until we know for sure we need to step carefully."