Deliver Me from Temptation (24 page)

Damn him for being the one. Damn him for being who he was and making it impossible for them to be together. And damn Him for the reminder of what loving someone could be like and then taking it all away again.

Pulling herself from her misery, she waited patiently as the doctor did a cursory exam. She must have passed because he called in a nurse and asked her to prep the discharge forms. The nurse didn’t look thrilled but she nodded and went to get things moving.

It took too long, and Jessica both feared and wished for Logan to show up and stop her, but thirty minutes later Jessica was in a wheelchair sitting on the front curb as Damon brought his car around.

She waited until they were in the car and had pulled out of the lot before she spoke, her palms still sweaty from the jailbreak. She didn’t want to go home. Didn’t want to face the bloodstained floor. Didn’t want to face the stillness of the apartment where violence had found her and have to think about why and what she was going to do about it. But what else was there to do?

Maybe
your
job, Jessica?

That’s right. She’d never talked to the Sergeant. Never took that leave of absence, which meant she was still on the case.

“Can I borrow your phone?”

Damon searched her face, but pulled his phone from his pocket, his eyes locked back on the road as she typed in Grim’s number from memory. It rang. And rang. Eventually clicking over to voice mail. “Damn.”

“Not home?” he asked.

She shook her head, gnawing on her lip. The possibility that Grim was dead was very real, in which case it was all on her. If she’d stopped to call Mike before bolting out the door, then maybe they could have found him in time.

“What’s wrong, Jess?” Damon asked, his voice soft and soothing.

She stretched her neck side to side, the bones popping. “Grim’s not answering.”

“Grim?”

“My informant. He called, said someone was after him. I was headed out to meet him when I was attacked.”

Damon shook his head. “Jess, it’s been hours. You should’ve told Mike that so he could check it out.”

“I did tell Mike. He sent someone over to look and didn’t find anything.”

“Huh.” He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “And now you can’t get ahold of him?”

She lifted his phone. “Voice mail. So either he’s not answering, can’t answer, or the battery is dead.”

He worked his jaw, his eyes on the light they were stuck at. “Where did you say he was?”

“Some warehouse on Manida Street.”

The light turned green and he started forward. “I can go check it out if you want. After I drop you off of course.”

“I’d appreciate it,” she told him, though even as she said it her gut twisted with unease. Was sending Damon really that smart? Despite her recent close encounter, he was even less equipped to deal with all this than she. At least she knew what she was facing. Unless…

She frowned as she looked out the window at the dark night, her thoughts turning to the body in the Dumpster. It was the night she’d met Logan, could the man’s death have been because of Logan and the creatures he fought and not because of her? It seemed too odd, too much of a coincidence. But hell, without Grim’s confirmation, she didn’t even know if their victim was the man she’d been supposed to meet. If Logan was there because of the whole angel warrior thing, then it stood to reason that the man was killed by one of the creatures Logan hunted. In which case it probably had nothing to do with her or her case. Just like the attack on her in the garage the next day was because she was a loose thread, not because of Tom’s car.

It made sense. It fit. Tom’s case and all this demon/vampire crap were two totally separate things. Therefore it would be okay for Damon to check things out. Still, if Mike’s officers hadn’t found anything, what made her think Damon would?

“Maybe I should come with you. Maybe the officers Mike sent didn’t find him because he didn’t want to be found by them.”

“So you think he’ll come out if you’re there?”

She twisted in her seat. The streetlights gave her enough light to get a decent look at him. Truth was he looked pretty crappy. His skin still had that glazed, sick look and his eyes were dull, as if he wasn’t fully there.

“You don’t look so good,” she said.

He quirked a brow, giving her the once over. “Are you pot or kettle?”

She laughed, but it came out sounding hollow and fake.

“Babe, I really think it’s best if I bring you home.”

She heaved out a breath that made her ribs ache. The reminder should have made her inclined to agree, but instead it drove the opposite point home: She didn’t want to go home. Not when it meant being alone. Not when she would have to eventually face Logan—and then find a way to break his heart so he’d go away. But she could find Grim and maybe,
hopefully
, she could find Rhodes’s real killer and clear Logan’s friend’s name.

“I need to find out what happened to Grim. I need to be sure he’s not still hiding in there waiting for me.”

He hesitated, but eventually nodded. “Okay. But I’m coming into the building with you.”

“Of course.” This was something else she could do for Logan. Maybe they couldn’t be together, but she could take greater care with her own life—which meant taking the help when offered.

Damon took the next cross street. A few more turns and they were on their way. Traffic was light, but Jessica couldn’t help squirming in the seat. Not only was she nervous, but the painkillers were wearing off and her entire body ached.

Damon looked over at her, headlights flashing across his face, his hands tight around the wheel. “We’re almost there.”

She nodded, but the anxiety of not knowing what they’d find when they got there was gnawing at her nerves. It was only another five minutes before they reached their destination, but long enough for her to break out in a slick sweat that chilled quickly in the cool evening.

“Which building?” Damon asked. Jess scanned the street. Which building indeed. The entire area was one big warehouse after another.

“For him to get in and hide, it’s probably either abandoned or has really poor security.”

“I don’t think anything in this part of town has very good security. And a good number are abandoned.”

True. Which made her wonder just how vigorously the officers would have looked for Grim.

Damon coasted down the street. Jessica scanned the buildings for possibilities. Problem was they all seemed possible. What had made her think this was a good idea?

“Wait. What’s that?” Damon pulled to a stop, his arm outstretched as he pointed to one of the boarded-up warehouses. A board had fallen down and stood on its end, tipped toward a stack of barrels. One of the barrels was moved, shimmied around the board so only a glint of the dull metal flashed in the reflection of the Viper’s headlights.

“Want to check it out?” Damon asked.

The thought that this was all a waste of time crossed her mind but when she opened her mouth all that came out was an uneasy, “Sure.”

Jessica popped her door, her feet barely hit the pavement before Damon was there offering a hand.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” He pointed his remote toward the car, a couple soft beeps, though they seemed loud in the still night.

She scanned the building. Any moment now Grim would pop his head out a window, relief flooding his gaze. Any moment and the barrel of an automatic would appear out that window, thug on the end, and mow them down.

“You have your gun, right? Mine’s probably in the evidence locker.”

“Right,” he replied solemnly.

Luckily they didn’t need it right away. No one popped out of a window. No cover fire was laid down. The night remained silent.

Probably not the right building.

“You sure about this?” he asked.

She squared her shoulders. For Grim. For Logan and his friend. “I need to make sure.” Besides, she was here. Might as well follow through. And that building was as good as any other on the block.

Damon grunted, falling in beside her as they made their way to the door. He kept up, though there was an almost reluctant hesitancy to his steps.

She bit her tongue, but when he started cracking his knuckles she spun on him. “If you don’t want to do this, just tell me. I’ll call Mike or something.”

“No, it’s cool. I just…” he rubbed a hand over his face. “I had a run-in with my dad. We don’t see eye to eye on things these days.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Not much to talk about. He wants me to do something. I don’t want to do it.”

She tipped her head, frowning. “You’re old enough to say no.”

He let out a rueful chuckle and reached for the door. “You’d think.”

She was going to ask who his dad was that he could push around his son who was a cop—the Godfather or something?—but the doorknob turned in his hand.

She shifted restlessly from foot to foot as he cautiously pushed open the door. No sounds or movement greeted them. She started to step forward but was abruptly stopped by Damon’s hand on her arm.

“Wait here a sec. I’m the one with the gun, remember?” he said, flipping his jacket open to show the police issue.

“Right,” she said, gesturing ahead.

She waited while he stepped over the threshold and was quickly swallowed by the dark.

“It’s a hall. No lights. And no one appears to be home.”

Taking that as an all clear she stepped in. She sensed more than saw him move forward and followed the soft sound of his tread. It was eerily quiet and pitch black. After the second time she stumbled, she found herself gripping tight to Damon’s jacket. How in the hell did he see without a flashlight?

“This is stupid.” And dangerous.

“Think if he’s hiding somewhere in here he’ll come if you call?”

“Maybe.” Only when she opened her mouth nothing came out. Too dark. Too…something. “There’s no light in here. Even if he were trying to hide he wouldn’t have gone this far in.”

“You’re right. I just thought…”

She heard it. A low rumbling sound, kind of like a chuckle.

“Was that?”

“Yup. A laugh.” The leather tugged in her grip. “This way.”

They took another dozen steps, turning a corner. A large room sprouted from the hall they were in. No windows here either, but across the cement expanse was a slim beam of light. A slight crack spilling out into the vast space from an unclosed door.

Cautiously they eased across the expanse. The low murmur of a one-sided conversation drawing them closer. The inflection of the voice rose, then paused. A question. Another voice, sounding amazingly like Grim’s, though scratchier, muttered something insulting under his breath. Her chest sagged a bit with relief. Thank God. If the kid was well enough to insult someone then he was okay. At least until she got ahold of him.

Why did he hide from the officers Mike sent?

They
probably
didn’t even check this building out. Good chance the lazy bastards never left the warmth of their car.

“Police! Keep your hands where we can see them.” Damon pushed open the door, gun leading the way as he stepped into the room, Jessica shifting to a better angle behind him.

The room wasn’t large. An old office perhaps, though there was nothing in it other than two chairs and a heavy wooden desk. Both chairs were occupied, the one behind the desk by an astonishingly average-looking man. His hands were in sight, though he neglected to put down his gun. The good news/bad news was it wasn’t pointed at them, but at Grim who sat sullenly in a second chair in the corner behind the desk, hands tied before him but otherwise healthy looking. Hopefully they could keep him that way.

“Oh, look. Our guests have arrived.” The man from behind the desk pushed out of his seat, moving across the room with lethal grace, his gun remaining level with Grim’s brain as the man advanced on his captive. The man was taller than he’d looked behind the massive desk and more muscular too. Brown hair, brown eyes. If he were on the force, he would be the first one recruited for an undercover assignment. Unless it was her picking the assignment, that is.

Dead eyes. They had no emotion in them.

“Say hi, Grim.”

Grim grumbled something else—sounded like another insult—and received a smack on his head with the butt of the gun for his trouble. Instinctively Jess reached for her sig, but belatedly remembered she didn’t have it.

The pause in her knee-jerk response had her re-evaluating the situation. And the conclusion she came up with was that something was seriously fucked up. Grim wasn’t scared. Not really. And okay, Grim had a reputation for mouthing off a lot but even so, there should be something in his eyes. A little smidgen of fear at least.

“Grim, if you set me up…”

The man holding the gun to Grim’s head smiled. “Oh, it is a setup. But not by whom you think.”

“Oh? Care to enlighten me then?”

Grim’s skin split, body growing, morphing as a creature emerged from the skin shell. Jess’s heart skittered in her chest. Oh no. That was not what she thought it was. The thing stood, stretching out its wings, cloven hooves stomping the pile of dermis into the cement. It smiled at her, its jagged teeth splitting a face that nightmares were made of. She knew that face. It was the creature from the garage, only with taut, red skin, as if it had gone through a shedding and was growing a new hide.

Jessica stumbled back, but Damon was right there, catching her under her elbow. “Easy there, babe.”

“Yes. Take it easy.
Babe
.” The man chortled, the twisted rise of his laughter betraying his utter insanity.

Take it easy? Nope, the best idea of the night: run.

Jess took a step back, her arm screaming against Damon’s tight grip.

Must be in shock. No other reason he wasn’t plugging the demon with useless bullets and screaming his damn head off.

Wait,
easy
there?

A shiver ran down her back, her gaze automatically drawn to Damon. Denial whipped through her at the fixed expression on his face.

No. Not…“Damon?”