Raising Innocence (22 page)

Kyle nodded rapidly. “Yeah, of course. What do you need?”

“Brittany Mariana Tolvay. She’s a kid that died a long time ago. Find out if there are any relatives still living, what happened to her, anything you can. And make it snappy, I don’t have all fucking day.”

He scrambled to the closest computer and within ten seconds his shaking had subsided. I pulled a chair out, sat down, and leaned my head back so I could stare up at the ceiling and let my mind go blank. For just a moment, I wanted to not think about anything.

It didn’t last long.

Kyle pushed his chair back with a screech. “Okay, I’ve got her. She has one living relative, but I’m thinking it must be a mistake. Same name as her mother, right down to the date of birth. Year is wrong, of course.”

I pushed myself to my feet and went over to his computer, staring at the screen.

Kyle continued to talk, his nerves showing in the rapid fire of his words. “Brittany was killed by influenza, so was her father. Mother survived but went missing within weeks of the kid’s death.” He tapped a few keys and a grainy picture came up of a tall woman, hair pulled back in a severe bun, long dark dress that covered her from her ankles to her chin. “This is her mother. Anne Tolvay. But this is the part that gets creepy.” He tapped a few more keys and a color photo, looked like it was a driver’s licence shot, came up. The same woman now in living color. Her hair was yanked into the same severe bun and her eyes stared straight ahead, a blankness to them that I recognized all too well. I’d seen it more than once on Giselle’s face. Shit, were we dealing with a crazy Necromancer?

I tapped the screen and the computer hissed at me, the monitor going fuzzy. I stepped back. “Where’s this picture from?”

Kyle drummed the keys again, fingers flying. “Garden West Home for the Insane.”

That’s what I was worried about. “Can you pull up her files?”

He didn’t say yes or no, just got back to work. I knew from experience it wouldn’t take him long.

The door to the office creaked open; Pamela stuck her head in.

“Rylee, I think you’d better come out here.”

“What now?” I grumbled, striding to the door.

She smiled and giggled, though it was a tad bit nervous. “There’s a Harpy on the roof.”

T
he rooftop was solid, at least; it would take Eve’s weight. The Harpy was, to say the least, bedraggled. She was soaked through, her feathers having lost their luster in what must have been a knockdown, drag out flight across the Atlantic to make it here this fast. Alex bounded, the best he could in his injured state, around her.

“Evie, Evie, Evie!”

Pamela stood back by the door, her eyes wide with awe. I’d asked her to wait for me there and she hadn’t argued. I couldn’t blame her; a Harpy was nothing to take lightly.

“Eve, I told you that you didn’t need to come,” I said, throwing my hands into the air. “The case will be over in a matter of hours. What the hell were you thinking?” I wasn’t doing my best imitation of calm, but I couldn’t help it. The last thing I needed was another lost soul to deal with. The case was difficult enough as it was.

She clacked her beak at me, eyes narrowed. “You are my mentor. I should be with you.”

I took a breath and held it. I could do this; I could be a mentor.

Right.

“How did you make it here so fast?” I asked, looking her over. She was dehydrated, her legs were paler than usual, and the exhaustion all but rolled off her.

“I flew straight across.”

My jaw dropped. “Eve, you could have died!”

“And you could die without my help,” she said, her voice dropping. “You are my family now, you and Alex. No clutch will want me; I have no true training. Not even what Eagle has taught me will be enough for me to stand through the Proving Ceremony.”

She’d mentioned this ceremony once before, then brushed it off. Apparently, all Harpies had to prove their abilities. Without training from another Harpy, Eve would never survive the ceremony. She was a complete outcast, as was Alex. As was I.

I scrubbed my hand over my face. “Thank you.”

Her head snapped up. “Why would you thank me, are you not angry now?”

“I am angry, but . . . you’re right. Family comes first.”

The corners of her mouth at the edges of her beak lifted, a Harpy’s version of a smile. “Good. Now, what can I do to help?”

“Just” —I lifted my hands— “wait here and rest.”

Again, her eyes narrowed, and my struggle with staying calm lost out. “Eve. You will wait here and rest until I say so. Don’t fuck around with me.”

The Harpy bobbed her head once. “Fine.”

“Fine.” I spun on my heel and strode to the door leading to the stairwell, where Pamela was waiting with it propped open. A soft sniffle from behind stopped me cold. Shit, Eve was crying. Again. Who knew a Harpy could be so damn emotional?

“Eve, I am glad you’re here. Just . . .” I glanced over my shoulder to see her hunched down under an awning on the roof, curling her head underneath her right wing.

Alex stood between us, his eyes sorrowful. “Evie sad.”

I made a decision, maybe not the best one, but one that would keep her busy and it might even help. “Eve, as soon as you can, make a circuit of the city. We’re looking for zombies, disturbed graveyards, and O’Shea.”

Her head snapped up. “O’Shea?”

I kept my voice even. “Milly has him. So if you see them, keep your distance.”

“I can go right now—”

“No, rest first, and then go.”

Giving me one last bob of her head, no more tears followed, thank the gods.

Alex, Pamela, and I headed down the stairwell, the echo of our footsteps bouncing wildly around us.

Kyle met us half way up. “I’ve got the files you wanted.”

Trotting down the rest of the stairs, I slammed open the stairwell door into the main office and jogged to the office. On screen was Anne Tolvay’s picture again, her file in black and white.

I read out loud, mostly because I could barely believe what I was seeing.

“Tolvay believes herself the mother of a child dead over a hundred years ago. Insists that she can raise the dead, has tried to kill several nurses just so she can prove that she has the ability to raise them from the dead.”

Kyle stepped up beside me. “That’s nothing. Check this out.”

He moved the mouse and clicked it on the next page.

“Tolvay escapes after claiming she can save children from death; claims she can keep them alive forever.”

“Is there anything else?” I asked, my mind reeling with the information.

“Well, there’s lots in her files, but do you need more?” Kyle made a move as if to show me another page, but he was right. I didn’t really need anything else.

I waved at him to stop. “No, this is enough. But . . . .”

Silence thickened between us. The hum of the computer and the ticking of the office clock the only noises in the room.

“But what?”

I thought about the look in Anne’s eyes from the pictures. She was mad, of that I was certain. Was it because of her Necromancer abilities? Was it the same kind of curse Giselle had, where the more Anne used her abilities, the more she lost herself to the madness?

A tired sigh slipped out of me. Lately, there had been no open and shut cases. Nothing that was 'just find the kid and take him home'. I felt like someone was out to test me, to push me to my limits and see what would make me break.

Life could be a bitch like that.

“Kyle, round up Deanna, Will, Pamela, Alex and Agent Valley. I’ll brief them and then we’re going in.”

He ran to do as I asked, my now ever faithful servant, the little rat bastard. Leaning against the wall, I did a mental run-through. I had more than enough weapons, and I had plenty of help, but still, I felt as though it wasn’t enough. Like I was missing something.

I closed my eyes and leaned my head back, again feeling fatigue creep up along my vertebrae. Blame it on the jet lag. Or the lack of sleep the night before. Or the fact that there was so much to do once this case was done.

O’Shea.

Berget.

Jack.

Pamela and Alex came into the room, followed by Deanna, Will, Kyle, and Agent Valley.

“Kyle,” I said, and he looked up as he sat down. “Get out. This isn’t a meeting for you.”

He frowned, caught himself, and then gave me a weak smile. “Right. Sorry.” He scooted back out the door—his face red—and closed it behind him with a click.

Did I feel bad that I’d embarrassed him? Not for one instant.

“The Necromancer we’re dealing with is, for lack of a better term, nuts. She’s stealing the children—”

“Wait, she?” Deanna asked.

“Yeah, she. Her daughter died, and now I think she’s trying to replace her daughter with the bodies of other children.”

Will leaned forward and put his elbows on the table. “How are we going to catch her?”

Thanks the gods he could get straight to the point. “I’ll Track the kids, when we get close, Deanna you will block her access to the Veil.”

Deanna nodded. “I can do that.”

I shrugged. “Then we go in and put her down.”

Agent Valley choked. “Put her down?”

I laced my fingers in my lap. “Okay, we go in and kill her. That better?”

His eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “You can’t do that.”

“You can’t keep her in an institution. She’s broken out once,” I snapped. “Besides, Necromancers live for a long time. Very, very long. As in hundreds of years. How are you going to explain that to the institution, assuming you actually managed to keep her in one?”

The FBI agent was shaking his head. “No, I can’t let you do that.”

“Then kids are going to continue to be snatched in their final moments, the ones that they should be spending with their families.”

Agent Valley continued to shake his head and I knew that it was over. Whatever tenuous relationship the FBI and I had was done. Finito. He was always going to revert to what he knew best: rules. Rules I only knew how to break.

“That is not how we work,” he said.

“I thought I had free rein.”

“Not like this.”

Shrugging, I stepped away from the wall. “Fine. You explain to Interpol that the one person who could Track this baby-raising bitch down just quit.” I strode past him, deliberately butting my shoulder against his, shoving him with my body. Sure, it was immature, but he was pissing me off with his flip-flopping. First I was in charge, then I wasn’t. I should never have brought him in on the details. Lesson learned.

Pamela caught up to me first. “You aren’t really going to leave those kids with her, are you?”

I shook my head, and called back over my shoulder. “Will, Deanna. You coming?”

Will gave me a wink. “Of course. We wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

Agent Valley stepped out of the office just before I turned my back on him. “Adamson, don’t you dare cross me on this!”

I put a hand over my heart. “Me? Oh, hell no. I’m going to have a nap. No rules against that, is there?”

His eyes narrowed, a sign that he knew I was still going after the Necromancer, regardless of what I was saying. We’d have a tail, at the least.

Of course, I’ll admit I was kinda looking forward to them trying to tail a Harpy.

W
ill and Deanna sat on the battered up blue couch in my suite while I spread out my weapons on the floor.

My hand hovered over the crossbow. I hadn’t had a lot of time with it, but what I’d been able to see so far was promising. The bolts had been firing straight and clean, hitting the targets when I’d practiced.

I slipped the strap over my shoulder. A little distance between me and the zombies was not a bad thing. The remembrance of my flesh being yanked from my body with teeth was still too fresh to deny the shiver of fear of it happening again. Torn apart by dulled and rotting teeth. Not a pretty thought.

“How are we going to shake them?” Will asked.

Leaning to the left, I could just see out the bottom half of the living room window and the pair of uniforms that were standing at the edge of the walkway.

“Subtle, aren’t they?”

Wringing her hands in her lap, Deanna shifted in her seat. “I don’t see how this is going to work.”

I sat back on my heels. “The kids are to the south now, way south.” I concentrated working out the distance in my head. “I’m going to say close to two hundred miles.” Deanna’s mouth opened, and I talked over her head. “Will, Pamela, and Alex are going to go for a drive. Round about. Lose the tail, and then they’ll head south to meet us.”

Will cleared his throat. “How will we find you?”

“You won’t. I’ll find you. Just head south.”

Frowning, the Druid stared at me. “And what about us?”

“We’re going to go straight there.”

“How?”

I smiled. “Eve will take us.”

Her face paled. “You mean the Harpy? I don’t think that’s safe.”

“I’m sorry, did you think this was a picnic? Did you think that going after a mad Necromancer was going to be safe?” I laughed at her. “I can see why Daniels is taking over your coven or whatever the hell a bunch of Druids is called. You’re a fucking sissy.”

Will looked to me, and then to his sister. “Deanna, you knew what was going to be asked of you.”

“You’d side with her?” His sister glared at him.

“You sided with my Destruction against me.”

Deanna paled. Ooh, that was a shot to the gut.

I stood up, shouldering the crossbow, and checking all the sheath straps on my body. Everything was secure. Pointedly, I ignored Deanna and her outrage, her fervently whispered words to Will. Did I need the Druid? Yes, one hundred percent. But if she was going to question how we were doing things, she wouldn’t be a help; she’d just be a serious liability. Not exactly what I wanted, but it wouldn’t be the first time someone who was supposed to help me backed out at the last second. Of course, that made me think about Milly, which made me think about the fact that she’d ensnared O’Shea. Which only served to blacken my mood further.

“Are you coming with me or not?” I asked.

Deanna shook her head. “I’ll not come with you, no.” I glared at her and she held up her hand. “I said I’d help you and I will. I’ll go with William.”