Renegade (12 page)

Four empty booths ran along the plate-glass window to their left. The place was only about twenty feet square, with a pass-through for the kitchen behind the counter on their right. Opposite the booths stood a blue laminate counter with a cash register at the end near the door. Half a dozen stools covered in cracked, red vinyl offered counter seating. Three men sat on the middle stools, one in worn blue coveralls with faded grease stains, two in jeans and denim work shirts.

“Mornin’, folks.” A thin woman with fading reddish hair sauntered up to them. She seemed normal enough, complete with a welcoming smile. “Y’all want the counter today?”

“A booth, please.” Just enough power laced Griffin’s words to defy argument.

Smart of him. With the weirdness in the air, sitting with their backs to the room was too risky.

For a heartbeat, the woman’s eyes narrowed. Darkened. Cold like the winter wind prickled along Val’s neck, and she eased a hand toward her knife.

The woman’s face resumed its bored look. With a shrug, she grabbed two menus from a stack by the register and led the way to the booth farthest from the door.

Griffin slid onto the seat facing the entry. He would be the one to see and counter any approaching threat. Protecting her again. They really had to talk about that.

The waitress laid down the menus. “Two coffees?”

Griffin waited for Val’s nod before he said, “Sure. Thanks.”

The waitress strolled away. One of the men at the counter, a lanky ash-blond, gave them a hard, speculative look.

Maybe he didn’t like outsiders. Maybe he was just in a bad mood. Or maybe he was trouble. She gave him her sunniest smile. He stared through her, but she held the look until he turned away.

“Problem?” Griffin murmured. He laid his hand over hers on the table.

Power of the dyad, she remembered, lacing her fingers with his, letting their power touch and entwine. The contact reinforced their power. It would also let them hear each other’s thoughts, if his weren’t closed to her now.

“Yes, but I’m not sure what,” she whispered.

The waitress brought their coffee, and the two leaned back breaking their connection. “Haven’t seen you through here before. You folks going into the state park for a hike?” Her face smiled, but her watchful eyes didn’t.

Griffin gave the waitress a relaxed smile. “My girl and I thought we’d find a romantic spot to camp. Any suggestions?”

“You want to be careful,” the hard-eyed man in coveralls at the counter said, “in the park.” His gaze also held a snake’s warmth and raised that brief, nasty chill. “Get a map so’s you don’t lose your way.” His gaze ran over Val, not lecherous but assessing.

She tried for perky and clueless with her smile this time, and that seemed to satisfy him. He turned back to his meal.

Val fought back a shudder. The vibes in this place felt like tiny spiders crawling over her skin.

Griffin sipped his coffee and frowned.

“The breakfast special’s good,” the waitress said.

He reached for a menu. “We need a minute.”

The waitress shrugged and walked back behind the counter.

Staring at the window, at the faint reflections of the men at the counter, Griffin breathed, “There’s blood in the coffee.”

Val nodded, but wanted to check for herself since she knew the venom in his system might affect his taste buds. She tipped her cup until coffee touched her lips. An acrid, coppery taste lay under the standard diner brew.
Crap.
Lowering the cup, she asked him, “Now what?”

“I’ll probe.”

She reached for him, squeezed his hand to indicate agreement.

His power and hers mingled, reinforcing each other and again deepening her awareness of him, of the appealing way strength and tenderness blended in him. Of the attraction between them and the way his feelings mirrored hers. Val took a breath, staring at the table to steady herself.

Griffin kept his eyes on the menu, but his senses brushed hers as he reached out. He touched cold that echoed faintly in her mind with a hint of brimstone. Dark power. Unmistakable but impossible to gauge without giving themselves away.

He tensed, and their eyes locked across the table.

These people could be Satanists or demon hosts, possibly even unwilling demon servants, known as thralls. Satanists and demon thralls weren’t that big a problem, but five demon hosts could take the two of them, depleted as they were, without breaking a sweat.

They both knew it, but she leaned closer to whisper a reminder. “They’re serving that brew to Mundanes. We have to stop them.”

“We will. But only we know about this place, so we can’t afford to try and fail.”

The grim, irritated look on his face echoed the mood in the magic between them. “Don’t worry,” he murmured, rubbing his thumb over her hand. “We’ll come back when we’re recharged enough for a fight.” He reached for his wallet, mouthing,
On three
.

Val’s heartbeat kicked up, but she squeezed his hand hard and fast, shifting her balance forward. He held a five in his hand as he silently counted. On three, they both pushed out of the booth. He angled his body between her and the stools.

As they came abreast of the burly, dark-haired man nearest the door, all three men slid from the stools, flanking them.

A triad trumped a worn-down dyad.
Shit.

“You didn’t pay.” The dark-haired man grabbed at Griffin.

Griffin sidestepped. As he yanked her behind him, closer to the door, Val drew her knife. She dropped the screen on it and stepped out from behind Griffin with her weapon in sight.

“Money’s on the table.” Griffin also drew, revealing his dagger.

“Hey, now!” The waitress dashed out of the kitchen.

On her heels came a burly, blond man whose apron and red-faced, sweaty appearance marked him as the cook. He gripped a cleaver in his fist. “Where y’all goin’?”

“We have to be somewhere.” Val let her voice go flat, watching them all.

“We don’t want trouble.” Resonant with power, Griffin’s voice carried a hard, lethal edge. “But if you do, we’ll oblige.”

G
riff kept his senses open, alert for reinforcements threatening him and Valeria as they backed out of the door. When she hit the street, she turned to cover their rear.

No one tried to stop them, but the five inside watched with cold, predatory eyes. Nausea from the dark influence raised a bitter taste in Griff’s mouth. He and Valeria had run from one problem smack into another.

They climbed into the car, and he cut a U-turn away from the curb. Valeria twisted in her seat, watching behind them, until the turn of the road hid the town.

“I’m surprised they let us go,” she said. “They likely meant to trap us with whatever was in those mugs. We should’ve gotten the coffee to go, for a sample.”

“Asking for that would’ve given them too much time to think, maybe try a different ploy.” He eased back on the gas. “Maybe they didn’t try harder to stop us because they figure someone else will happen along. I doubt they wanted us in particular. Unless the motel clerk who referred us there is in with them, but that feels like a stretch.”

“Wouldn’t take much bespelled blood to knock out a normal person. A Mundane probably wouldn’t even sense it, just think it was bad coffee. But why? Could it be related to your idea about ghouls and dark magic?”

“I don’t think we should assume it isn’t. Those people obviously aren’t ghouls, but if not, then what are they?” He turned onto the main road. “Whatever this is, it has to be stopped. Too bad we don’t have backup closer.”

“The Collegium could send helos,” she said. “If word reached the right people.” Before he could speak, she held up a hand to stop him. “If ghouls are allied with mages, someone at the Collegium could be in on this, too. I know.”

“I’m sorry. I wish we could trust them.”

“If ghouls are using Mundanes to work dark magic, they’re planning something big. I haven’t heard of anything like that since my history of magic class. We need someone who can dig into the old records.”

He pulled into a gas station parking lot, backed into a space that gave them a view of the entire lot and the road, and fished his phone out of his pocket. “Luckily, I have someone who can research that.”

“You have an expert in ancient magics on call?”

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “If you consider the assistant loremaster at the Collegium an expert.”

“Will Davis? How many people do you have inside, anyway?”

Judging by her scowl, she was wondering how blind she’d been. “No one in your department, but I can’t give you a number. Only a few have agreed to let me name them.”

“Because they don’t trust me.” She blew out a hard, audible breath. “Fine.”

“They’ll come around.” He drew his phone from his pocket. “Give it time.”

“I understand their reasoning, but if ghouls are pulling Mundanes into dark magic, time is the one thing we don’t have.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

Griff watched her from the corner of his eye as he punched in numbers. No speed dial for him. Too easy for anyone else to use if the phone fell into the wrong hands. He deleted the call history, manually and magically, after each call.

Valeria sat still, her gaze scanning the lot and the road. She probably had no idea how the morning sunlight turned her eyes green-gold and put gilded highlights in that fall of dark blond hair. How its play on her body accented the high, firm curve of her breasts under the green V-necked top.

He remembered the feel of those curves too well. Too bad exploring them again would be incredibly stupid.

The phone rang, yanking him away from dangerous thoughts.

“Yeah.” Sounding sleepy, Will answered. Griff could almost see him shoving his hair out of his eyes.

“Morning, Sunshine. Can you look up something for me?”

“After coffee. What is it?”

He told Will about the encounter. “See if you can find any record of ghouls using Mundanes to work blood magic. Or of ghouls using Mundanes for blood magic. Also, check out the missing persons’ reports near the Abner Wade State Park, for people who disappeared on hiking trips and anything weird to do with Carson, Georgia.”

“Blood magic.” Will now sounded not only alert but grim. “Putting this together with my other research, we should meet, Griff. As many of us as can get there. Maybe at Tasha’s river cabin.”

“It’s that bad?”

“It’s that complicated, and easier to explain once. Though some of us will have issues with Ms. Banning coming along.”

“They’ll just have to trust me on that. Set the meeting for two this afternoon. Meanwhile, Valeria and I will shut that place down as soon as we can. I’ll also have the team see if they’re serving that nasty brew anywhere else around here. We need to figure out how widespread the problem is.”

Griff snapped his phone shut. “If you need help and I’m not around, go to Stefan or Will. Marc Wagner knows everyone on my team. He can contact them if you ever need him to.” He explained about the meeting.

“But some of them don’t trust me, Griffin, or you would’ve told me who they are.”

“They trust me, I trust you, and so will they as soon as they realize you’re in this with us now. Judging by the tone of Will’s voice, it’s time to cut to the chase on this problem.”

She looked doubtful, but he wasn’t finished. He reached into his pocket. “Hold your hand out. I have something for you.”

When she turned her palm up, he laid the lapis lazuli pendant and its cord on her palm. “You don’t have to take it.”

Wary now, her eyes lifted to his. “An Eye of Horus. Like yours.”

“I keep a couple of extras on hand. It activates when you’re wearing it. All of my team members have them. It’ll hide you from most scrying.”

She said nothing, just stared at it. Had he offended her?

“It doesn’t commit you to anything. Doesn’t mean you’ve turned against anyone.” He took her hand, rubbing gently. “It’s to keep you protected, safe.”

Finally, she looked at him, her eyes soft. “Thank you…for sharing your secret.” She slipped the cord over her head and tucked the pendant into her shirt.

Their gazes locked. The warmth in her eyes heated his blood, and the car suddenly seemed close. Intimate. Desire hummed in the air between them. If he kissed her, he knew, she would welcome him.

That was a very bad idea, especially for her. Nothing about involvement with him could help her.

He wrenched his eyes to the side and started the engine. “The clerk mentioned a McDonald’s on the main highway. It’s farther away than that diner, but the coffee’s probably better.”

His voice sounded hoarse, tight. He cleared his throat. “And the drive-through cashier won’t care if we order six breakfasts.”

“You and Will seem very close.” Valeria’s voice sounded light, but she stared through the windshield, not at him. Bright pink bloomed over her cheekbones.

His fingers itched to trace it. He tightened his grip on the gear knob instead. “Will spent a lot of time with my family when we were kids. His parents were always traveling to some archaeological site or another.” He’d been the second mage, after Stefan, to say he had Griff’s back when he went rogue.

But that was enough personal info. “I know a great place we can recharge in the forest. There’s a creek with a big, flat rock by it to sit on.”

He planned to paint that spot someday, when he could count on not having to pack in a hurry and run. “You can just sit if you don’t want to wade.” He swung the car onto the road.

“I get a boost from the earth,” she said, “and from trees especially.”

“This spot should work for you, then.” Some mages had an affinity for one of the four elements, earth, air, fire, or water, and so recharged better with a boost from that element. Spirit mages were rarer but could get the boost from all elements. Others, like him, had no particular affinity.

Valeria shoved her hair back, and he longed to touch the soft strands. He had to look away as she asked, “Are you a water mage?”

“I like the feel of the water, that’s all. Helps me think.” Let him imagine it was cleansing his soul.

“Considering the morning, we should do a lot of thinking.” She shifted in her seat to look at him. “I heard what you said about checking out those towns. Unless your team is much larger than I think, that’ll take them a while.”

“Not much choice, though.” He cocked an eyebrow at her. Was she backtracking about trusting the Collegium?

“No,” she agreed sadly, “no choice.”

He turned his attention back to the road. The handful of his team available would have a lot of ground to cover. He could only hope Valeria’s conflicted loyalties wouldn’t add another problem to the list.

Icy water burbled around Griff’s calves. His bare feet sank into the stream’s muddy bed with each step. Breakfast had provided a much needed energy boost.

Now, with midmorning sunlight through the tree limbs casting alternate patches of silver and shadow over the lazy current and washing the purest form of natural energy over his back, his power levels rose steadily. Too bad his mood didn’t.

Valeria sat on the flat rock by the stream and splashed her toes in the icy current. She was taking him on faith, trusting him, as she’d promised. Somehow, he had to make her situation right. But how could he do that now that she was known to have fled with him?

“Griffin? Do you want to talk? Or should I watch the sky through the trees and leave you alone?”

Hands on his hips, he faced her. “I hate that you can’t go home because of me.”

Valeria shook her head. “A traitor in the Collegium is what’s keeping me from my home, not you. Besides, I won’t leave you. I’m in this until we finish it.”

His heart lifted at the words and at the sincerity vibrating in the magic between them. One thing he’d learned was never to take loyalty for granted. Unfortunately, her loyalty put her too much at risk.

“I appreciate your support more than you can know, Valeria. But one woman I cared about died because of me. I’m not going for two.” The rage and bitterness and grief of that day flooded through him again.

She pushed off the rock and waded toward him with determination that didn’t slow for the mud and stones under her bare feet. “I read the file. Her name was Allie Henderson. Brunette, age twenty-six, instructor in botanical magic at the Collegium and your lover of more than two years. One of three mages you’re said to have killed since you’ve been on the run.”

“That doesn’t bother you, thinking I killed her, and then Sykes Mitchell, who’d been my friend?”

“Sykes killed Allie,” she said, her voice calm and her gaze steady, “and you killed Sykes.”

“What?” Stunned, he stared down at her. The sunlight on the water seemed brighter, the rush of the stream over the rocks, musical. He’d never expected anyone outside his tight circle of comrades to believe that. “How did you know?”

“From the blast patterns. Allie had a narrow energy burn slashing her torso from left shoulder to right hip, and Sykes was a left-handed swordsman. He died from a focused blast at point-blank range, round burn, as from a staff.” Her face softened, as though she sensed the pain thinking of that day always gave him.

“That’s not the official story.” Yet the sincerity in her eyes blanketed him. It soothed the gnawing bitterness inside him.

“That account never rang true to me. First, you don’t need to take someone else’s weapon when you have your own. Second, they died too close together, Allie first and Sykes a few seconds later. For you to have been disarmed, used his weapon, then recovered yours so quickly…impossible.”

“Yet the story persists,” he said bitterly. “People think I killed her because they want to.”

“It’s the easy path, especially for those who don’t know you. I’ve been in your head, seen your integrity, and that brings me to the third, and most important, reason to believe you’re innocent. You loved her.”

But now he loved…
Damn it, no.
He didn’t. Couldn’t. He was overreacting to the circumstances. Valeria was brave and intelligent and kind, and she deserved better than anything he could hope to offer.

“She wouldn’t give up on me,” he said, “even after I ran. Even though people ostracized her for it. She didn’t realize Sykes followed her that day. He and I fought, and she stepped between us, trying to stop the fight. If Allie hadn’t loved me, she wouldn’t have come to me. Into the line of fire.”

Where Valeria now stood.
Hell.

“I’m sorry for that, Griffin, for her sake and yours. I’m sorry about all of it. But you must know that’s not your fault, though I realize that doesn’t stop you from hurting over it. You’re a man who protects, first and always.”

“I try.” Was she implying that was a flaw?

Valeria sighed and crossed her arms. “We aren’t lovers, but you habitually put yourself between me and danger. You need to cut that out, by the way. I can handle myself.”

“Not if there’s a nasty surprise waiting. If I’d sent you home after that fight in the swamp, you’d be where you belong.”

“And I’d still be wondering why little things keep going wrong with investigations. Things I didn’t think much about before seem sinister now.” She frowned at him. “This is not something I tell everyone, but I need you to understand if we’re going to work together.”

When he nodded, she said, “After my parents died, I was afraid all the time.”

Griff shook his head, starting to speak, but she overrode him.

“Anger at the ghouls only took me so far. I was terrified in combat training. Every time someone took a swing at me, I wanted to run. I had to learn not to retreat, to counterattack instead. It was something I had to do.”

“You did it brilliantly.” What she’d said increased his respect for her. Although the set look on her face discouraged comment, he said, “Valeria—”

“I’m not finished. Just listen, please. When you step in front of me, it’s like you’re disrespecting me.”

“That’s crazy. Of course I respect you. But you’re here because I got you into this. I’m responsible for your safety.”

Her lips compressed into a tight line. Staring down at the burbling water, she shook her head.

He raised an eyebrow at her, waiting. He was talking sense, and she should pay attention.