Bound by Light (37 page)

It had only been a few hours, but Jake knew that was all they could have.

Not wanting to, trying to think of excuses not to do it and coming up with none, he woke Merilee with a kiss.

Morning light touched each of her features, from her pretty blond curls to her lips, still swollen from his kisses. When she opened her blue eyes and gazed at him all soft and sleepy, his chest tightened. Another second and his cock would get in on the action. No time to waste.

Jake brushed her cheek with his knuckles. "We have to get dressed. Go to work—if Freeman will unsuspend me. Even if he doesn’t, we need to hit the streets and look for the missing triad and the Astaroths, too. If I can talk to them, I think I can explain all this and get them to come back and fight for us."

Merilee yawned and nodded and kissed his cheek, the heat of her breath tickling him in every way possible.

Less than half an hour later, they were both showered, back in the library, and getting dressed—Jake slower than Merilee, because he couldn’t help appreciating her wiggling ass as she pulled up her leather jumpsuit.

To distract himself, he told her everything he had found in the building with the tunnel entrance, especially all the images he had seen when he encountered the Stone Man’s energy.

She explained to him about what Mother Yana discovered in her investigation, and Jake barely could wrap his mind around the concept.

"A true demon." He fastened his jeans and pulled on his T-shirt. "One no human created?"

"Old Ones were like gods in their own way." Merilee picked up her bow and quiver. "This one may be some sort of chaos demon, or at least spreading unrest and misery might be one of his skills."

Jake grabbed his jacket and threw it over his arm. "Do we know which one, specifically, he might be? Do we have a name?"

Merilee shook her head as she smoothed her curls with her fingers. "Every adept at every Motherhouse is working on that one, trust me."

"Should we look?" Jake gestured to the room around them. "It’s not like we don’t have our own resources, and the two of us are pretty fast with research."

Merilee cast a longing gaze at the books lining the library shelves. "If we get time. For now, I think we’re more brawn than brain in this fighting machine."

Jake conceded with a nod. "Do now, think later."

"That’s about it." Merilee smiled at him, and Jake felt the warmth of the breeze she shared with him before turning for the door.

He stared at the way her hips filled out her leathers. She was something else. Grinning, he followed her until she reached the door and stopped short.

Her head came up and tilted, and Jake’s gut twisted. She was hearing them again.

The Keres.

By now, he knew the signs.

And every time Merilee heard the death spirits screaming, shit happened.

Bad
shit.

Jake moved faster than he thought possible in human form, reached her in one big lunge, and pulled her against him.

"The Keres," she said, clearly afraid. "Something’s coming. Something’s about to happen." Her arms tensed. "Already happened. Damn! Is he close?"

She struggled against his grip, still distracted.

Jake knew she wanted to reach her weapons, but he couldn’t make himself let her go. His mind raced with his pulse as he shielded her with his arms, his head, his body.

Where the hell was the threat this time?

Where would it come from?

The other side of the door?

Jake moved her back from the door, then turned her loose so she could ready her weapons. Confusion radiated from her face as she grabbed for the olivewood bow. "Sorry. I heard—"

"I know." He turned away from her and held out his arms to keep her behind him, make himself a bigger target. His training took over and he automatically assessed every threat. The library was so fucking big—and it had so many windows, and doors leading out to a balcony, too.

The windows seemed the most likely spot for trouble to enter, so Jake put himself between Merilee and all that glass, facing the rest of the large library. If he had to, he’d defend her from every direction at the same time.

Jake didn’t have time to take another breath.

The balcony doors burst open, and a blast of wind rushed through the library, knocking over pile after pile of Merilee’s papers.

Jake’s heart slammed against his ribs. He instinctively tried to draw the Glock he didn’t have.

Merilee had an arrow nocked before he got his fists raised, and she was standing beside him ready to shoot.

Three Astaroths in jeans and white T-shirts materialized in front of them, staring straight at Jake.

Darian, Quince, and Jared. Lips parted. Fangs bared. Snarling.

Talismans. Jake counted three of them. Glittering around three pale necks.

Not captives on a murder mission.

So why the hell did they come bursting into the library?

Blood pounded through his body. His answering snarl was instinctive. The push of wings against the skin of his back, just as natural. He fought it, refused the change, but fangs poked at his tongue.

"Jake," Merilee said, quiet, steady—and that sound helped Jake stay present in human form.

Barely.

The three demons lifted their hands as if in surrender.

Jake didn’t lower his fists at this gesture, and Merilee didn’t lower her arrow. Jake heard the rasp of her quick breathing. Then, from outside on the streets, the sound of car engines and buses and voices rose like a familiar refrain, making the moment twice as surreal.

"What the hell?" Merilee said aloud, her voice too quiet. Still ready for a fight.

Leader,
said Darian, mind-to-mind, his golden eyes wide and sad and worried as he appraised Jake.
We must leave
.
Find your wings and take us away from this place before it’s too late
.

"I’m not going anywhere," Jake said, confused. "Speak out loud. Merilee needs to hear you."

Three pairs of golden eyes gazed from Jake to Merilee and back again. Quince spoke next, his voice a whisper. "The city is no longer safe. There is monstrous evil here. We
must
go."

From the corner of his eye, Jake saw Merilee’s frown. She let the tip of her arrow point toward the library’s hardwood floor instead of the demons. "What’s happened? What changed?"

"Tell us, Leader," said Jared, ignoring her questions. His tone was remarkably young and childlike, and the sound tore at Jake’s insides. "Where should we go?"

Jake shook his head and finally lowered his fists. "Why are you asking me? I mean, I know you call me Leader, but I’m just helping you train. You’re under Sal Freeman’s command just like every other lawfully aligned demon staying in New York City. Where did he tell you to be?"

The three demons gazed at him with obvious surprise.

Darian said, "Captain Freeman’s instructions died with him. We assumed you were his second, that command of us would fall to you, Leader."

Jake’s entire world seemed to stop, and a buzzing, vibrating pain descended on his mind.

Freeman’s . . . instructions . . . died with him. . . .

Died
with him?

"Freeman . . ." Jake felt dizzy, unable to accept what his ears heard, what his brain was telling him. Everything inside him seem to sink, then fly up again and rebel.

His entire being started to burn and ache, and he looked at Merilee, desperate for her to give him some other interpretation, some other reality.

Her mouth was open. A look of absolute horror slowly claimed her face, making everything terrible and wrong—and real.

"No." She glared at the Astaroths. "Sorry. I’m not believing that."

The three demons stood still, clearly distressed, their lack of guile radiating outward like a soft silver light.

Merilee blinked.

Then she started crying and moving all at the same time.

"No, no, no!" she yelled as she ran to the library door, shoved back the bolt, and took off down the hall toward the stairs.

"Stay here," Jake told the Astaroths, his throat tightening, each word harder than the last. "Wait for my instructions."

Darian, Quince, and Jared nodded as Jake turned away from them and charged after Merilee.

Awareness gradually spread through his mind, his body, making him sick, then turning him numb.

Freeman. Dead.

"No. Fucking. Way." His heart punched his chest with every word.

Captain Freeman’s instructions died with him. . . .

Not Freeman. Not
him
.

Jake caught Merilee at the third-floor landing and they ran together, straight down into the long entry hall.

The Mothers were near the foot of the stairs, kneeling around the prone form of a woman, hands outstretched, obviously doing serious healing.

When Jake got closer, he could see it was Bela Argos, and he remembered she had been out on patrol with Freeman.

Energy rolled around the healing circle in visible waves, almost obscuring Riana and Cynda, holding each other and sobbing.

Instinctively, Jake shifted his attention down the hall, toward the conference room door. Nick and Creed stood in the hallway, faces drawn and pale. Their arms were folded, and their posture suggested they intended to guard whatever was inside that room.

Merilee glanced once at Bela and the Mothers, once at her triad sisters, then headed straight for Nick and Creed.

As Jake reached them, Nick caught hold of both of Merilee’s arms. "No," he said, his voice as rough as a dry engine. "You don’t want to see him."

"Fuck you!" Merilee’s hot blast of wind knocked Nick sideways as she tore free of his grasp, only to be captured by Creed.

"It’s bad, Merilee. He’s gone. There’s nothing anybody can—"

Jake’s thoughts cracked in half. His demon essence almost ripped right out of his human skin as he shoved past his brothers. He didn’t feel bad when he heard Creed hit the floor behind him, another victim of Merilee’s wind.

"Don’t try to shelter her," Jake growled as he grabbed the handle and yanked open the conference room door. "She’s a Sibyl. She makes her own decisions."

He stepped inside.

Merilee was beside him a second later, closing the door behind them.

She took Jake’s hand as all his air left him in a rush.

It took everything he had to stay human as grief slammed him in the gut like a baseball bat.

"Oh, fuck. No." Jake shook his head as Merilee squeezed his fingers. "I’m not—that can’t be—"

But he knew it was.

There was a body on the conference room table, covered by a blood-soaked sheet. About Freeman’s height. About Freeman’s size—but misshapen. Oddly wide in the middle.

Jake’s legs felt too heavy to move as he forced himself forward, made himself approach the table.

Not Freeman.

This isn’t Freeman.

This isn’t my friend. The guy who risked everything for me
.

No matter how Jake tried to lie to himself, with each step he took, Freeman’s black hair became a little more obvious. Thick, thick black strands, coated with drying blood.

Holding Merilee’s hand like a lifeline, Jake stopped at the edge of the table. Before he could bullshit himself one more time, he lifted the sheet enough to see Freeman’s pale, bloody cheeks. His blue lips. The closed eyes that would never open again in this world.

The sight of his friend’s motionless, dead face punched Jake in the gut again so hard he turned away from the body and doubled over, hands on his knees.

Fuck he wanted to puke.

Then he wanted to kill something with his bare hands. Merilee came to stand beside him, but she seemed to understand not to touch him. "Hecate take him and bear him home," she said in a sob. "Light his way and slay his enemies."

Her words sounded like a prayer.

Jake stood up fast, the urge to kill something doubling and tripling. He didn’t want to think about prayers, or gods or goddesses or any other bastard of a deity that saw fit to look away while Freeman died. He just wanted to find the bastard who did this and rip off his fucking head.

After a few seconds of getting his shit together, Jake made himself turn back to Freeman’s body. He gripped the sheet with shaking hands and pulled it up for a better view, then lowered it quickly as Merilee choked.

Or was that me?

Maybe both of them.

"Something tore him apart," Merilee whispered, her voice so quiet Jake barely heard the words.

Freeman’s body—

Mangled.

Like a prehistoric bear had grabbed the man and ripped him open at the rib cage.