Authors: Yvonne Navarro
Concrete Savior (14 page)
Casey’s stomach did an unpleasant flip. “I could see her,” he said quickly. “I knew something like that couldn’t end well.”
“Really.”
The detective lapsed into silence again and Casey fidgeted in the backseat. It shouldn’t be too long until he got home and he could end this whole painful experience.
“And the other two?”
Casey flinched at the unexpected question. “What?”
“The other two people you’ve rescued. Did you know them, or were they also strangers?”
For a long moment Casey literally couldn’t find his voice. “I don’t know what—”
“Choose your answer carefully, Mr. Anlon,” Detective Redmond interrupted. “You really want to stay on the e of honesty here.”
Jesus, how had this man known about those? What was going on here? “No,” he finally said. “I’d never met either of them.” He almost added that he didn’t know their names, but cut himself off at the last second. That wasn’t actually true, was it?
The woman—Ms. Malak—turned so that she could look at him. “So how did you come to be there for them at the exact moment they needed help?”
There was something about her gaze that made Casey squirm. It was
deeper
than it had any right to be, as if it could penetrate all the way to his soul and rip out the truth. He didn’t want to lie, but he didn’t dare tell the truth, either—he had to protect Gina. And himself, too. The Chicago Police Department was one thing, but classified experiments by some unnamed federal agency were another animal altogether—one that was big and vicious and would damned well bite. Given a choice of which of the two organizations he wanted pissed at him, the answer was pretty obvious.
“It was just a feeling,” he said. She looked at him without saying anything and he knew the detective was watching him in the rearview mirror. He couldn’t seem to stop himself from adding, “I just kind of get those sometimes.”
“Really,” the detective said again.
Casey nodded jerkily. He felt absurdly like one of those rubber puppets, the kind you stuck your hand into and controlled with your fingers. He looked out the window and ground his teeth when he realized the detective had passed his building and kept going. “My apartment’s back there,” he said.
“I still have some questions that need answers,” the detective responded.
“I’m really tired.”
“Funny,” the woman said. “You don’t look tired to me.”
Casey frowned but kept his mouth shut. The truth was he felt fine—he wasn’t even cold anymore—but how could she have known that?
<“We’re going to take you down to the station for a little while,” Redmond said suddenly. “Just to hash out a few things.”
He looked up in alarm. “Maybe I should have a lawyer.”
“I don’t see why,” the detective said. “You’re not being charged with anything. There’s not even a crime involved. I’m just looking for a little cooperation. You’re up for that, aren’t you?”
The cop was right—there was no crime. What was he afraid of? Saying something about Gina, that’s what, but the more he resisted, the more suspicious they would become. “Of course,” Casey said, hoping his reluctance didn’t come through too much in his voice. “I have nothing to hide.”
“Of course you don’t,” said the detective. But Casey could have sworn the man had just a hint of sarcasm in his tone.
THEY TOOK THE NEPHILIM
to a room that was exactly like the one to which Eran had taken her the first day she’d met him in July. In some ways that felt like a long time ago, but in others it was barely a blink in time—especially
his
time, since his life on this earth was so short. It seemed odd that things would circle around to where she was the person on the other side of the two-way glass, watching someone else who was about to be questioned when not so long ago it had been exactly the opposite.
Eran wouldn’t let her go in and talk to the guy alone, so Brynna watched the nephilim while she waited for Eran and Bheru to deal with a few things. He’d told her the young man’s name was Casey Anlon, and although he didn’t have much more info than that, he’d assured her that he would by the time they got back. Brynna thought Casey seemed unaccountably nervous for someone who supposedly hadn’t done anything wrong; then again, almost anyone who wasn’t used to being in a correctional situation probably would be unnerved. Add that the guy had dropped into the Chicago River in a failed attempt to save someone’s life less than two hours ago, and it all made for a pretty lousy day. No wonder he was fidgety and wanted to head home.
“Ready?” Eran asked.
Brynna glanced over her shoulder and nodded, then inclined her head toward Bheru Sathi. She hadn’t seen the Indian detective since before she had moved in with Eran and all the events that had led up to that. Now he lifted one side of his mouth in a smile that could only be described as knowing, as if he had predicted a long time ago to his partner that there would be something more, much more, between Redmond and her than that first cop-to-witness meeting. She couldn’t help wondering if he’d done exactly that and Eran had just never told her.
Eran and Bheru led the way into the room and Brynna followed, trying to stay as unobtrusive as possible. A useless effort—Casey looked up as soon as the door opened and his gaze fixed on her rather than on the two detectives. Did he know instinctively that there was something different about her? Maybe, but if he’d had any true notion, he would have been shocked, indeed. Finally he pulled his gaze away and looked toward the detectives. “How long is this going to take? No offense, but I’d really like to go home and get out of these clothes.”
“Of course,” Bheru said in his lilting accent. “I’m certain we will only be together for a few minutes.”
“Okay,” the young man said, but he was clearly unhappy.
Eran settled on a chair across the table from him. “So you’ve been causing quite a stir around the city this last week or so.” When Casey didn’t say anything, Eran continued, “You’re like the modern version of Superman or something, flying around and saving people everywhere.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Casey muttered.
“Oh, I would,” Eran said. “This is the third rescue in eight days. Friday to Friday.”
“An exceptional record,” Bheru said. “So how is it possible that you know where to be for these people, Mr. Anlon?” He folded his arms and although his expression remained completely pleasant, he still managed to convey a don’t-bullshit-me attitude. “At precisely the time when they most need assistance?”
Casey mumbled something, but his voice was too low for either of the detectives to pick up. Eran leaned forward. “What did you say?”
“I said ‘not precisely,’ ” Casey repeated. There was an undertone of something in his voice but Brynna couldn’t quite pick it up. Resentment? Disappointment? Or was it self-chastisement? His next words reinforced her most recent speculation. “Didn’t quite make it this last time.”
“No,” Bheru agreed. “You did not, and that is quite unfortunate. And so I ask you again: how is it that you know you should be in a particular place at even more or less a particular time?”
The young man didn’t answer, but he was looking more and ticunhappy as the seconds ticked past.
“Well?” Redmond prodded. “A skill like that could be mighty useful in this day and age, you know.”
“I get these feelings,” Casey said. He was mumbling again, his voice so low that the two men had to lean in to hear him.
“Feelings,” Redmond repeated. Brynna shot a glance at him and he caught her eye. What she saw there took her back yet again to her own interrogation last July, and how she’d said essentially the same thing and he hadn’t believed her. Things were different now but he wasn’t stupid; if Casey Anlon was the same as Brynna—a fallen angel with demonic powers—he knew Brynna would have found him out instantly. Casey was special—a nephilim—but he didn’t have any powers, angelic, demonic, or anything else. He was just the offspring of a celestial being, put on Earth to complete a task.
Brynna frowned at him. This nephilim’s task—was it saving someone? The children of angels were charged with one thing, but that was all. Could this half human have lost his way and not be able to identify his assignment? No one ever said nephilim were savvy—if they were, the faction of Hell that included demons like Lahash and Gavino, Searchers who were assigned to trick each nephilim to his or her unaccomplished end, would have given up eons ago. Like so many of Hell’s permanent inhabitants, they wanted the payoff without having to do much of anything to get it.
Now Casey Anlon hunched his shoulders. “Yeah. Feelings. They come and go.”
“So what are we talking about here?” Bheru asked. “Do you hear voices? Do you get directions to specific locations?” He spread his hands. “I am compelled to ask because few people have ‘feelings’ that convey to them the depth of information required to perform the tasks that you have.”
“I don’t hear voices,” Casey snapped. “I’m not crazy.”
Redmond regarded him solemnly. “We never said you were.”
“I don’t like where this is going,” the younger man said. “I—”
“It’s not ‘going’ anywhere,” Bheru interrupted. “We’re just trying to figure out how you did this. Think about it—is it so hard to understand why we’re curious?”
“I suppose,” Casey said, but Brynna thought he sounded like nothing more than a sullen teenager who was being forced to admit he was wrong about something. She took advantage of the way he was making a great show of picking at his fingernails so he wouldn’t have to look at anyone in the room, slipping around the table until she was only a few feet away from him.
“Well?” Redmond prodded.
Casey sighed and finally looked up. “There’s nothing I can tell you about them,” he said. “They just happen, okay? Out of the blue, and then I just
know
where to go and where to be.”
“Like how? Does the address just pop into your head?”
“I don’t know
how
I know,” he insisted. “I just do.” He slapped the table angrily. “Can I please just leave? I’ll find my own way home.”
The timing would never be better than now. “Please don’t be upset, Mr. Anlon,” she said. “We’re just trying to learn from you.” She stepped forward and placed her hand lightly on his right shoulder—
—and let herself sink into another realm.
She was still in the same room, with the same people—Eran and Bheru and, of course, the nephilim. It wasn’t at all what she’d expected although she couldn’t have said what “that” was, exactly. Nuisance demons, perhaps, like the ones that had tormented the old Korean man and his daughter in that first case she’d helped Eran bring to a close. Maybe a glimpse of this mysterious power the guy seemed to have, this ability to feel when and where he should be in order to save the life of someone whose existence was marked by destiny to come to a quick and early end.
But this . . .
This was
nothing
. At least, almost nothing. A faint shading of red, like tones of a sepia photograph processed in watery blood, identified what she was seeing as unearthly, but there were no demons, no creatures, no identifiable
presence
of anything not of this world. The only strangeness was the area around the nephilim rather than the man himself. It wasort of murky shine, a halo of darkness that feathered out at the edges as though it were made of dissipating smoke. It didn’t quite touch him but the edges closest to his form churned sluggishly, as though it wanted nothing more in the world than to close that final six-inch gap and swallow him up. She needed to—
Casey Anlon jerked away from her and scrambled out of his chair, his eyes suddenly wide with fear. “What are you doing?” he demanded. “Oh no you don’t—stop touching me! I know about people like you!” He backed away from her until he hit the wall and pressed himself against it.
Brynna blinked as the connection was broken. “Wait—”
