Fallen Darkness (The Trihune Series Book 2) (5 page)

Yes, he’d changed. He no longer wanted to be Peacemaker. Why was it his job to make sure everyone else was happy?

His breath left in a whoosh. He felt hollow. Empty. Despondent.

Oh, yeah, so he could be happy, too.

In a sudden burst he punched the ceramic tiled wall. Cracks extended from the hole. Broken ceramic chips fell into the tub with a tinkle. White powder and blood coated his knuckles.

The anger was gone too soon, leaving only the emptiness of despair.

Why the hell had Gabe interrupted him?

Chapter 8

Lucas, dressed in Armani navy blue slacks and cashmere sweater, headed to the conference room. He was the last to arrive.

“Sorry.” He sat across from Gabe and lifted the lid to his laptop, powering up. “Had to rinse off.”

Cade nodded, glanced at Gabe then began. “I spoke with the other Septs about our recent Fallen increase.” He shook his head. “Although with tonight’s events, it may have been pointless. They haven’t seen an increase in their kills or Fallen spotting. For them everything is normal.”

“So why is Astoria special?” Gabe mused.

“I don’t know,” Cade said. “We’ll continue with patrols, continue logging our kills. A pattern will show eventually. Hopefully. That being said, Sarid and I saw nothing tonight, but you guys did?”

Gabe launched into details. He chased his Fallen a few blocks before catching him as he tried to get into a van.

“We should get that van.” Lucas cut off Gabe before he could start in on what happened with the second kill.

“Agreed.” Cade glanced at the clock. “We need to act quickly. If other Fallen realize the two you killed aren’t coming back, someone might go out to snatch it. Lucas. Gabe. Go check it out.”

Lucas was half way out of his chair when his computer pinged. He tapped the incoming message.

He’d linked his computer with Astoria’s Police Department’s server, along with most every city official building. This message was from APD, specifically the Homicide Department. A new report had been flagged. “Wait.”

“What is it?” Cade asked.

“A Follower was found in an alley. Small cut on her neck. Female had been dead for a few days before anyone found her. The surrounding skin had turned black.”

“Another poison vic,” Gabe said.

“Looks like. No pictures with this one, though, so I can’t be sure.”

“Change of plans. You and Gabe swing by the morgue. See what you can find out. Sarid and I will get the van.”

A short while later, Lucas pulled into the morgue parking lot. After parking in the back, out of sight, he reached for a set of keys in the middle consul. A direct match to the ME’s security guard. “Ready?”

“Lead the way,” Gabe said.

Five minutes later Lucas and Gabe stood in front of a metal table. The inside cameras had been temporarily dismantled. The after-hours guard, medical examiner, and his assistant were taking a short nap, compliments of Lucas.

Gabe grabbed the ends of the white sheet and pulled it down to the Follower’s waist.

Anger, guilt, and sorrow swept through Lucas. He didn’t know if it was his or Gabe’s.

They should’ve been there. It was their job to protect the Creator’s Followers. To save them. When Lucas glanced at the dead
nheqeba
, he didn’t see an already decomposing corpse. He saw a lost life. A creation who would no longer experience life. No love. No joy. Laughter. Tears. Lust. Nothing.

Gabe held out a pair of latex gloves. Lucas donned them before gently turning the victim’s head to the side. The cut was less than two inches. Small enough for a Fallen to get his mouth around and suck all the blood until the soul released.

Not for this
nheqeba
, though. If the Fallen had consumed her soul, the female would’ve died from blood loss, not poisoning.

Gabe’s gloved fingers brushed the skin surrounding the wound. It was black.

Lucas selected a scalpel from the stainless steel tray next to the table.

“We have a dozen samples already,” Gabe murmured.

“The male scientist Jeeves found can compare it to the others. Until the
zakaar
finds the substance causing this, we should collect as much evidence as possible.”

“How long is that going to take? When will we know what the Fallen are using?”

Lucas didn’t respond to his
ach’s
frustration. The Fallen’s newest trick had put them all on edge. He deposited the skin sample into a small bag, disinfected the scalpel, and set it back on the tray.

What they needed to do was interrogate a Fallen.

“What?” Gabe asked.

Lucas cocked his head. “What?”

“You said interrogate a Fallen.”

Lucas stilled. Had he spoke aloud? He scanned Gabe and received nothing but surprise from his
ach
, a twitch of his eyebrows. “It was just a thought. If we could ask,” or heavily persuade, “a Fallen, we could get the answers we need. Why are they doing this? What are they using? What’s the end result? Where are they hiding? How do they operate? Where’s Apollyon?” Excitement built low in his stomach. This was good. Gabe was getting on board. “Do you know what we could do with that information?”

Gabe opened his mouth.

“Hey! Who the hell are you?”

Lucas was at the Follower’s side in the next second. He laid the
zakaar
next to the other two by the door. This male was in a business suit. Lucas glanced at the clock on the wall. Close to opening time.

“Four more,” Gabe said quietly.

Lucas nodded, tuned in to the voices at the front of the building. Two were by the sleeping guard. The other two headed straight toward them. He concentrated on the humans’ breathing and footsteps, then swept into the hallway to meet the two approaching
nheqebas
.

Seconds later their heads were down on a desk in the nearby office.

“I’ll get the cameras.” Gabe flashed past Lucas.

“Meet you at the door.” This job had taken a horrible turn. It was fine when only one or two workers had to be manipulated into taking a nap. The Followers would dismiss it as not enough sleep, more worried that someone had seen them zzz-ing on the job. But now with six Followers unconscious . . .

The cameras would show Lucas and Gabe’s initial flash into the building, which may or may not pose a problem depending on if the situation was investigated. Since this was a city building, odds were that, yes, they’d thoroughly check it out.

Gabe was at the door a minute later. “Swiped today’s tape. Figured that was best.”

Lucas smiled. He loved his
ach
.

Chapter 9

Sonneillon walked through the chamber doors, black leather coat streaming behind him. He strode toward Kobal and Lilith, the soles of his boots soundless on the concrete floor. Their muted voices reached his ears.

“You ask him,” Kobal whispered. Even in the softest tones, the demon of hilarity’s voice was as grating as a hyena’s wail.

“I’m not doing it,” Lilith hushed back. Sonneillon’s gaze swept over the body used to seduce men. The red shirt, falling just below her pert ass cheeks, was like second skin and revealed more than a handful of cleavage. She was a sure thing.

That’s what her shirt said.

Her knee-high boots were red leather and sported a seven-inch heel. She was nice to look at, but he wouldn’t touch her if his life depended on it.

And it never would.

“I don’t care if that asshole is gone. He never liked me.” Lilith folded her arms across her chest. She was millimeters away from popping out of her top.

Kobal’s mouth parted, eyes locked onto her exposed flesh. Sonneillon didn’t need to read his mind in order to know what the dimwit was thinking. One glance down said it all. Kobal licked his lips and spoke to Lilith’s chest. “But don’t you want to know what happened to him? Wh-wh-what could happen to us?”

The queen of demons sniffed. “I can take care of myself.” She rubbed her neck absentmindedly.

Kobal bounced from foot to foot, finally raising his gaze. “We need to stick together,” he whined.

Sonneillon stepped into the dim light, tired of the conversation.

Kobal spotted him first and squeaked, tripping over his feet to back away. Lilith’s creamy skin paled, but she met his gaze without flinching. The bitch had balls. Perhaps she’d stolen them from one of her conquests.

“I’ve learned why Zarak didn’t collect his new recruits.” Sonneillon jumped right to the point. He had a lot to finish in his office, especially now that the Russian Fallen leader could no longer perform his job. Plus he wanted to spend the least amount of time with these idiots. “He’s dead. Killed by a Behn.”

Kobal gasped.

How could he even make that sound like a little girl’s?

Lilith shrugged, lifting her hand to examine a chipped spot in her black fingernail polish.

“I need to find a replacement.”

She raised her head, eyes lighting with excitement. “Я всегда любил Россию,” she said throatily.
I have always loved Russia.

“Good, you leave tonight.”

A grin spread across her face.

“Hey,” Kobal protested. “I like Russia, too.”

“You’ll stay here. I need someone in charge of recruitment while I’m away.”

Kobal sniffed. “I can’t do it all by myself,” he whined. “It’s too much.”

Sonneillon raised an eyebrow.

Kobal took a step back, dropped his gaze. “P-p-please, I don’t want to upset Apollyon.”

“Apollyon?” Sonneillon intoned. “You need to be concerned with upsetting me.”

Kobal whimpered, shoulders lifting like he was trying to burrow inside his own skin.

“Lilith.”

She jumped.

“Get ready for your departure.”

She turned at once, heels clicking across the concrete.

Sonneillon examined the pathetic excuse of existence in front of him. The demon was right. He wouldn’t be able to uphold Apollyon’s demand by himself. And in light of Zarak’s death, which Apollyon wouldn’t take well—the Russian leader had been with them for over a century—it wasn’t the time to accrue less than expected.

Those damn Behns.

“Fine. Pick whoever you want from the pool.”

Kobal grinned, his lips curling up over pointed teeth. “I have the perfect candidate.”

“But remember.”

The demon froze.

“Anyone chosen will be your responsibility. If they screw up, you screw up. And your punishment will be ten-fold. Choose wisely.”

Chapter 10

Lucas left the security disk from the ME’s office with Andrew. The
ebhed
would review it, chronicle it in what was probably a large database of possible Behn sightings then file the disk away. Jeeves had the skin sample and would forward it to his scientist for further study.

Now Lucas headed toward Cade’s study to brief him on what happened and to discover what he and Sarid found in the van. Though it was doubtful anything useful would emerge from grand theft auto. Fingerprints, maybe. They could learn the Fallen’s human identity, but otherwise the whole ordeal seemed like a waste of time.

Elias’s prophecy was a widely thrown pass. Bad news though, no one knew what they were supposed to catch or where it might land.

The Sept’s objective had always been to kill Fallen. Most recently, seek and kill. Now the prophecy was thrown in to the mix and no one, especially Cade, knew what to do with it.

Elias had mentioned finding a key.

Yeah. Okay.

A needle and haystack didn’t even come close to rating that job. How the hell would they find a key, one small key—well, maybe it was small, could be as large as the Eiffel Tower and if it was, would definitely be easier to find—in the Creator’s huge world? Elias had been nice enough to mention the key wasn’t in Astoria at this time.

At this time? Lucas snorted. So did that mean it used to be in Astoria? Would it return one day soon? If so, was it because the Sept One would bring it here? Or someone else? Another Behn? A Woyr? Did the Woyrs even know about the prophecy?

There were three Trihune species.

Behnshmas, or Behns, were created by the Sonh and each member stationed at one of the seven different Septs around the world.

Woyrs came from the Fathyr. The four large Woyr packs had divided the world into quarters. Each group responsible for keeping its territory, not overlooked by Behns, free of Fallen.

Shaydes were born of the Holyspiryt and did not tread on Earth unless called upon by a Behn or Woyr. Lucas had seen one once. It was an experience he didn’t really want to repeat. Those mofo’s were as scary as the underworld.

His stomach suddenly swirled just as a weight dropped onto this chest. He rubbed his sternum, grimacing. The emotion was strong.

Emma was near.

He was in Cade’s wing now. A few feet from the boss’s study. The rhythmic swish of a paintbrush followed by a slightly too fast pounding heart and a sniffling nose reached his ears.

The study once held bookshelves, large overstuffed chairs, low lighting lamps, and a barely used wooden desk shoved to one side.

Now the desk was in the center of the room, along with a chair large enough for a Behn to sit comfortably behind it. Papers and books that looked old enough to be in a museum covered the surface.

On the far side, which received the best light from the wall to ceiling windows, contained various easels and several large washtubs. Two walls had been stripped of their bookcases and replaced with metal shelves, now filled with paint, canvases, and a bunch of other art store supplies.

Emma faced an easel, her hair held captive by a rubber band, half of the dark strands falling loose. Red, blue, and yellow paint was smeared on the back and sides of her jeans. He quickly averted his gaze. Cade would tear out the eyes of anyone looking at his
bahshrett’s
ass.

Lucas didn’t need to search the room further. Cade and Sarid must still be out. He’d hit the gym. Talk to the boss afterward.

Halfway to the door a quiet sniffle stopped him. Another weight added to his chest, making it difficult to inhale. He frowned, hesitated, turned.

“Hey.”

Emma whirled. “Lucas. You startled me.”

He rubbed his twitching eyebrow.
Yeah, I know
.
“Sorry about that.”

Emma used her free hand to rub her face. When finished, gray paint smudged her right cheek. Despite her state, Lucas saw why Cade fell. Large brown eyes, angelic face, sleek body. “I’m looking for Cade.” He made a pretense of glancing around the room.

“He’s not here.” She sniffed.

“You okay?”

She nodded as tears filled her eyes. “Sorry. Don’t pay any attention to me.”

He walked closer, gaze on her recent painting. “What are you working on?” He eyed the canvas, slowly tilted his head.

Emma sniffed again, setting her paintbrush on the easel’s ledge.

“Is it a flower?”

She nodded.

It certainly wasn’t a replica from Martha Stewart’s line. The green stalk sat in front of a semi-blurred hill filled with brightly colored flowers and sunshine. The main flower wasn’t colorful or in the sun. Its brownish-yellow petals drooped and wilted.

“It’s dying.” Her voice was flat.

The weight suddenly disappeared from Lucas’s chest, leaving him empty. He gazed at Emma’s profile. She was staring at the flower, the tears gone, her expression blank. “Do you want to talk?” he asked quietly.

She nodded, stopped in mid bob, shrugged, frowned. “It’s not a good idea. Cade might—” Another pause. Her eyes narrowed. Fists clenched. The roar in Lucas’s ears was almost overkill. He didn’t need it to know she was angry. “Yes, I’d love to talk. I have no one else, except for Gabe, but Cade doesn’t—” She broke off again, shaking her head. “Thank you.”

Lucas motioned to the black leather couch separating Emma’s art studio from Cade’s office. She walked a few steps, paused. “Maybe I shouldn’t sit. I don’t want to get any paint on the couch.”

“I wouldn’t worry. Martha complains she doesn’t get to clean enough in your wing. Apparently you make the bed and bring your clothes to the laundry room.”

A small smile lifted the corner of her mouth. It didn’t stay long. She sat on the edge of the seat. “It’s rude not to. She has so many other responsibilities. I don’t want her to have to pick up after me and Cade, too.”

“She likes her job. We wouldn’t give her duties she didn’t enjoy.”

“I know.” Emma grew quiet.

Anxiety and sorrow vied for the top spot in Lucas. He breathed slowly, trying not to let it affect him.

“I’m sorry,” she said just before tears fell down her cheeks.

Lucas put his arm around her shoulders. “Some emotions can’t be stifled. It’s—” He recognized the thump on his spine seconds before Cade’s voice, full of bridled anger, filled the room.

“What’s going on here?” Cade’s blue glowing gaze was locked onto their half embrace. 

Emma raised her head. The Sept leader glared at Lucas, while holding his hand out for his
bahshrett
. She stood immediately and went to him. Her love for Cade was ten times brighter than the despair she’d shed moments before. Cade’s gaze moved to Emma when she neared.

“You’re crying. Why are you crying?” He cupped her face, thumbs wiping away the wetness. Cade’s head jerked up. His fangs flashed as a low rumble echoed through the room. “Lucas, what did you do? Why have you upset her?”

“He was helping me,” Emma spoke before Lucas could open his mouth. She laid her hand on the side of Cade’s face, overtop the scars near his left eye. “I was upset before he came in.”

Lucas felt his own surprising appreciation for Emma’s defense right before Cade’s anger rolled through him, taking control. Slowly coming to his feet, he willed his eyes to remain lightless, his fangs to stay embedded in his gums.

The light dimmed from Cade’s gaze. His shoulders fell and he closed his eyes, resting his forehead against his
bahshrett’s
. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten so angry.”

“It’s okay. I understand. And I’ll tell George I can’t do the second showing.”

“No, you’ve worked so hard. We’ll think—”

Lucas eased from the room. His anger had evaporated with Cade’s, although the reverence and love coursing through him now was more unbearable.