Renegade (13 page)

At last, she said, “Maybe that’s the rule in your world. In mine, the person who makes the choice is responsible for the result. I chose not to turn you in after that fight at your place. I can’t go home until I know where the problem in the Collegium lies. When I do, I can prove I’m not a traitor. I can prove you’re not. Then you can go home, too. Finally.”

His fists clenched in frustration. “Let’s not forget the long odds on that last one.”

She took a deep breath and blew it out audibly. “Did you kill Corin Jacobs?” Her voice carried an edge of impatience.

“No,” he snapped, knowing she wouldn’t believe him.

“Didn’t think so.” Valeria nodded.

Stunned, he stared at her. “Everybody thinks so.”

“I don’t. Not lately, anyway. You have too much honor to blast a friend in the back.”

While he was still trying to absorb the fact that she believed him, she continued, “Ritual questioning isn’t always bad, you know. It can be a path to vindication. You’re not guilty, so why not take the plunge, clear yourself? You could’ve done that years ago.”

“That’s what Corin thought. He tried to arrange it. Then he called me, told me the Council wanted to agree but only to draw me in, that I shouldn’t bite. And some bastard killed him while we were on the phone. Killed him with an energy blast from a staff, Valeria, and everybody blamed me.”

He couldn’t look at the pain in her eyes, couldn’t see it and know it was for him. He turned toward the bank.

She caught his arm. “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how horrible all of this must’ve been.”

Her touch stirred his blood. He looked down into her appalled face. Her eyes were dark with pain that echoed in the magic. She was a breath away from moving into him, to comfort him.

A flicker of encouragement from him, and she would. He could feel her longing in the magic, her desire to hold him, to ease his pain. If she did, he wasn’t sure he could stop there. He sure as hell didn’t want to, and she probably wouldn’t ask him to.

Because she felt sorry for him. Not acceptable.

“Thanks, but I don’t need your pity.”

As she recoiled at his curt tone, he jerked his head toward the bank. “Let’s go. We’re recharged. We can scry those people in the diner and see what we learn.”

“Fine.” She slogged toward the large rock.

The stiff line of her body screamed that he’d hurt her feelings. She didn’t deserve that. But he wouldn’t apologize. Keeping some distance was best for both of them.

A short time later, Val knelt opposite Griffin on the flat rock with his silver scrying bowl between them. He looked grim and had said little since they’d stepped out of the stream. Maybe it was better that way. A man who couldn’t accept sincere expressions of sympathy—not pity, never pity—had way more issues than she wanted to deal with.

Besides, over the long term, his protectiveness would make her nuts.

They set screen wards and scried back in time to see what happened in the diner after they left. The waitress, cook, and customers stood in a clump, pointing at each other and gesturing.

Val frowned at the image. “When demons enslave people, make them thralls, they don’t usually have the kind of independent thought it takes to argue.”

“Not usually. Of course, Satanists and demon hosts don’t have any trouble arguing.”

More back and forth, and then the three customers departed. They got into a pickup truck in front of the diner and drove away, out of town and onto the highway. The other two closed the diner.

“Maybe they’re not local,” Val said. “At least with the diner closed, we don’t have to worry about Mundanes for a bit.”

“Maybe.” Shrugging, he added, “Various dark rituals could create that sinister feeling around them. It isn’t necessarily ghoul-related, let alone demonic.”

“But still nasty.”

“Agreed. We’ll know more when my team finishes their canvass of the area coffee shops and after we interrogate one of those suckers. Best to do that before midnight, given their ties to dark magic.”

“I’m for it,” she said. “And a sample of coffee.”

“Absolutely.” His eyes met hers in shared resolve.

For him, too, action must be better than just sitting around. At least he was talking again. Hard to work with someone who wouldn’t speak.

“I’d thought we might look for Tina,” he said, “but we don’t have time now. We’ll get a sample of that coffee and head for the rendezvous.”

As they cleaned the bowl and packed it along with the warding stones, Val couldn’t help watching his shoulders flex under his shirt.

He didn’t say a word or look at her. A muscle worked in his jaw. Awareness rippled through the magic between them.

They started back down the trail. Walking was better exercise than translocating.

Maybe an innocuous conversation would ease the strain between them. “How does tracking work, anyway?” she asked.

“I reach for whoever or whatever I’m hunting. I never exactly learned it, kinda stumbled into it as a teenager, looking for our dog after he’d wandered off.”

“That’s a rare talent,” she said. “I wonder what that says about your elemental affinity.”

“No idea.” He grinned at her again, kicking her heartbeat up.

There was nothing surly about him now. In fact, he’d gone back to being way too appealing.

“That’s the second time you’ve asked about affinity,” he continued. “Is that your version of ‘What’s your sign?’”

Maybe he was trying to lighten the mood, make up for being a jerk. Guys weren’t much for apologies. For the sake of teamwork, Val smiled, playing along. “No, I’m just nosy.”

“I don’t think I have a particular affinity.” His grin faded. “Let’s hope the diner staff left enough of the tainted coffee when they closed to give us a sample.”

Val nodded. Better to focus on the mission instead of her mercurial companion. If a brilliant man like Will Davis said there was something to worry about, this afternoon’s meeting could bring dire news.

V
al’s stomach fluttered as she and Griffin materialized in front of Tasha Murdock’s log cabin outside Waynesville. After a quick swing by the diner to grab a coffee sample, they’d driven to Waynesville, parked in the lot for a nearby recreation area and translocated to get there. Everyone else would also park elsewhere, choosing different places, before translocating.

A mostly pine forest blocked Val’s view of the road, but sunlight glinted off the Big Satilla River beyond the house. This would be a restful spot if a person came for a casual visit.

She summoned a confident expression as they stepped onto the low porch. Griffin was vouching for her here. For his sake, she wanted these people to accept her.

He raised his hand to knock, but the door swung open. A tall woman stood in the opening. She wore her auburn hair boy-short except for bangs that framed her eyebrows.

“Come in,” she said.

Griffin hugged her. “Tasha Murdock, Valeria Banning.”

“Nice to meet you.” Their hostess extended a hand, but her cool, blue eyes flicked over Val’s face, assessing.

Screw with him
, Tasha’s look said,
and you’re toast.

“Good to meet you, too.” Val answered that warning look with a level one.

After a moment, the other woman nodded slightly. “We’ll sit at the table. Grab a soda or whatever off the bar.”

“Thanks.” That was probably as close to a seal of approval as Val could expect. That was fine. She and Griffin weren’t an item. As long as his friends could work with her, they didn’t need to like her.

She stepped into a cozy seating area furnished with an overstuffed couch and armchairs in earth tones. The bright chintz curtains and unpainted, golden-brown log walls with white chinking created a homey atmosphere at odds with their owner’s frosty greeting.

Griffin didn’t seem to have noticed the byplay. His hand at the small of Val’s back urged her toward Stefan Harper and Will Davis, who stood by a large, plank dining table at the far end of the big room. Beyond it, sodas, chips, and dip sat on a counter dividing the kitchen from the dining area.

Stefan and Will smiled a welcome that eased the chill of Tasha’s reception.

A petite brunette came out of a door near the kitchen and offered Val a friendly handshake. “Valeria. I’m Lorelei Martin. Nice to have you with us.”

“I’ve been in your shop. It’s great.” Val smiled. At least this woman seemed to think her arrival was a good thing.

“We try.” Lorelei patted Val’s shoulder and squeezed past her to grab a Sprite from the bar.

“Welcome to the club,” Stefan said with a wry grin and a brief hug that surprised her.

“The danger zone, he means.” Will also grinned as he grabbed her in another quick hug. He kept an arm around her waist. “Food’s over here. Tasha makes great salsa.”

At least these three accepted her. A rush of pleasure warmed her cheeks and eased the tension inside her.

“Okay, break it up.” Smiling, Griffin grabbed the neck of Will’s shirt. “No copping a feel off other team members.”

The look he directed at her was possessive. Heat bubbled low in her belly, and wasn’t that stupid of her since he hadn’t acted like he wanted her earlier, by the stream? What was he doing?

Will shrugged off Griffin’s hold and smirked at him. “Well, I sure as hell don’t want to feel
you
up.”

Speak for yourself
, Val thought. Her mouth went dry at the thought of exploring Griffin’s lean body again.

“You know you want me,” Griffin replied. “Wuss.”

“Pitiful comeback. Just pitiful.” Shaking his head, Will grabbed a Coke. “No Pepsi, as usual. Geez, Tasha, when are you gonna wise up?” He sighed heavily.

“We drink Pepsi when it’s your turn to buy,” Tasha said. “If you don’t want Coke or Sprite, there’s water.”

“Which is better for you anyway,” Stefan added. He grabbed a glass from a cabinet and filled it at the sink behind the counter. “You won’t catch me rotting my teeth with all that sugar.”

Will toasted him with the Coke can. “Live dangerously, why don’t you?”

Griffin tugged Val toward the table. “We’ll start in a minute.” He took the chair at the head.

She nodded and dropped into the seat next to his. He was so relaxed with these people, and they with him. She’d never had that kind of camaraderie. Thoughts of their encounter at the stream flooded her mind again.

She should be glad he’d turned her away. His protectiveness a reminded her of Drew.

Then there was the small matter of the venom in his blood. Nothing about him said
good relationship candidate.
Yet she’d never felt so drawn to a man this quickly.

Just how much did she care about him, anyway?

Too much.

Especially for a man she’d believed was a traitor until a few days ago. Way too much for a man who, no matter how much she wished it, might never be able to return home. And definitely too much for a man she might someday have to kill.

Crud.
Caring for him was just idiotic.

Griffin patted her knee under the table. “Okay?”

She had been until he touched her, until that bolt of pure need flashed up her leg. She couldn’t do anything about the color probably rising in her face, and instead mustered a smile. “Just thinking,” she said quietly, so the others wouldn’t hear. “You’re lucky to have such great friends.”

“I know. It sucks that Will has to be extra careful since he’s known to be close with my family.” He paused. “They can be your friends now, too, you know.”

If only that were true, but the kind of bond he had with them didn’t develop in one afternoon. How many times had they risked their lives together? Stefan and Will must take risks regularly, helping Griffin while living at the Collegium.

Someone else knocked on the door. Tasha opened it and grinned. “Hey, Javy.”

A slight, dark-haired man exchanged hugs with her. “Sorry I’m late. Chuck can’t make it. Football practice is in full swing, but I’ll fill him in.”

“Hey, Javy.” Griffin stood. His hand on Val’s shoulder steadied her as the newcomer’s dark, inscrutable eyes surveyed her. “Javier Ruiz, Valeria Banning.”

Javier offered his hand. “Good to have you aboard.” The words were proper, but the tone reserved judgment.

Val shook hands with him. “Thanks.”

Lorelei dropped easily into the seat beside her. Will took the foot of the table, and the others filled in the sides.

Griffin nodded to Will. “It’s your show. Go ahead.”

Will shoved his longish blond hair back absently. “First, I looked at the police reports and news clippings you sent me, Griff. The increased crime rate could be from normal nutso behavior during the hot, humid days of summer. That stuff’s always especially bad around the full moon. There might be some blood magic—compulsion spells, revenge, that kind of ghoul or demonic dabbling—thrown in.”

Griffin frowned at him. “You wouldn’t have asked for a meeting if you thought that was the answer.”

“No.” Will grimaced. “The alternative is much worse. I’ve done a lot of research on this, and the blood in the coffee and the dark influence you felt in the diner worry me. These crimes might be normal, as I said, but they generate fear, panic, and anger. Those emotions feed Chaos magic.”

“Which is what?” Stefan asked him.

“It’s an ancient form of dark magic that lets the wielder violate the laws of nature. It’s also associated with demons from the Void between worlds. It’s how they’ve opened their portals into this dimension, with Chaos magic wielded by willing servants they’re somehow recruiting on this side.”

“Any signs of this magic in use?” Frowning, Javier drummed his fingers on the table.

Will shook his head. “Not that I’ve found. Except a lot of weird stuff is happening around the swamp, and swamps are full of splices, places where the Veil between worlds is weak.”

“We know what a splice is,” Griffin said. In professor mode, Will tended to explain everything.

Will shrugged. “Just reminding you. Maybe, seeing as how this stuff is most intense in the towns around the swamp, the ghouls are trying to set up a demon gate.”

“How do they do that?” Val asked.

“A splice is a normal portal between dimensions. Lower level demons—we’ll call them earthly for convenience since they’re from this dimension—can use those to reach our realm.

“Making a Void demon gate requires two things,” Will said, “a splice and a portal, usually a black crystal orb charged with stolen souls, which allows access through the splice to areas that are normally out of reach. They’ll have to prime it by adding souls for a week or so before they mean to open it. If they fuel it with blood, put enough power behind it—”

“And have help from the other side,” Lorelei added.

Will gave her a nod of acknowledgment. “They can let earthly demons from darker planes of existence into ours. Think of a splice as a collapsed tunnel. Expanding it to allow travel within our dimension isn’t that hard. But with enough power, they can extend the splice, open the interdimensional Veil and let demons in from the alternate dimension the ancients named the Void. Questions?” He glanced around.

No one spoke, so he continued. “Of course, Chaos magic lives up to its name, not only in violating the natural order but in being extremely difficult to control. It’s possible they’ll screw it up and eliminate the problem.”

“But you don’t think so,” Tasha muttered. “Hell.”

“Apt choice of words,” Will said in a dry voice. “The last Void demon gate opened on Cyprus in June 1347, following one in the Gobi Desert in 1320. These incursions unleashed Void demons and brought the Black Death, first to China and then to Europe.”

Frowning, Tasha said, “My history’s vague. Does this connect to something else?”

“Cycles of plague persisted intermittently until the early modern period. The Void demons also triggered various European conflicts and fed the religious wars.”

“And then the Burning Times?” Stefan asked.

“Yes.” Will gave him a grim nod. “Like the mageborn needed more trouble. Just to confuse matters, earthly demons can come through those portals in droves.”

“Can earthly demons take hosts?” Val asked.

“Oh, yeah.” Will grimaced. “I’ve been emailing with a guy in Finland who owns very old texts. He says the main way to tell an earthly demon host from a Void demon host is the eyes. The whites are red in hosts of earthly demons, a weird lavender in those of Void demons.”

Frowning, Valeria said, “The people at the diner looked normal. They just…felt wrong. So what does that mean?”

Will shrugged, his eyes worried. “Maybe they’re allied with demons. Or ghouls, however unlikely that seems. I’m just guessing, here.”

A tense silence settled over the group.

Griff scanned the solemn faces around the table. Void demons, figures out of distant history, hadn’t been on his radar. He’d figured he and Valeria faced earthly demon hosts today. Instead, he and his friends might be facing the worst problem in centuries. Sort of like the difference between dealing with a hand grenade and a nuclear weapon.

Everyone at the table, no matter how shaky their knowledge of history, knew Void demons had decimated Europe’s mages while the ghouls had multiplied. The mages had never again reached their former numbers.

The effort to eliminate the demons had exposed magic users, leading to the witchcraft persecutions and burnings that had driven the mageborn into hiding and given the Burning Times their name.
Please
, Griff thought,
let it be something else. Anything else
.

His eyes met Will’s grim ones down the length of the table. “Any unsuccessful attempts at opening gates?” Griff asked.

“Those tend not to go on record,” Will noted, “owing to the participants dying in the backlash. The old records could probably help if we had them.”

Those had been lost or destroyed during the Burning Times.

Lorelei leaned forward. “I’ve had visions of something dark and cold, with purple and red streaks. Could be a Void demon, Will says, but it could also be something else. It brings terror, which would fit with what he says about Chaos magic. I saw you with it, Griff, though I couldn’t tell where you were. Have you had any visions?”

“Not of anything like that.” Griff blew out a breath. “I hope you’re wrong, Will.”

“Earthly demons,” Javier said, “we can handle, right? We
do
handle them.”

“At last we finger a bright spot.” Will raised his Coke can in a congratulatory salute. “Odds favor demons along with their hosts or allies only when they have superior numbers or face depleted mages. Earthly demons hate working together, are only halfway stronger than an averagely gifted mage and, like ghouls, tend to rely on brute force over strategy.”

“Their mistake,” Tasha said with a fierce smile. “With a little luck, a combat-trained mage can take three or four ghouls. Their impatience and lack of interest in training undercuts their strength. Please tell me Void demons have the same issues.”

“Aaand the bright spot fades.” Will sighed. “Void demons are sly, unified, and much stronger than any mage triad. Some of their human allies, though not all, have wielded enough dark power to overwhelm their mageborn foes.”

“Is there any way to know what the ghouls intend?” Valeria asked. “You’ve given us options, Will, but nothing definite. From what you’ve said, opening a gate can bring either type of demon.”

“A gate through the Veil requires a lot more power, but the methods are the same. If you smell brimstone, that’s a sign of Void demon influence if not actual presence. Charnel house reek, decaying flesh, signals earthly demons. Also, Void demons, like earthly ones, guard what they consider theirs. Only Void demon wards, according to my source, are a lot nastier. He didn’t say how.” He flashed her a wry grin. “I think we’ve had enough bad news today, anyway.”

The grin faded as he said, “But putting all of this together is giving me neck prickles. My new buddy in Finland says it gives him prickles, too. We need to be vigilant, all of us. Griff, did you get that coffee?”