Bound by Darkness Page 10

  “Actually, yes.”

  “Oh, come on. Her job is to kill the bastards.”

  “I’m sure it’s difficult for her to maintain appearances.”

  Brian was on his feet before he realized he was genuinely angry. Before he had time to wonder why an insult to Lena’s honor bugged him so much. “Look, you arrogant prick. All you’ve done since we walked in is sneer. Hate to point it out, but it was a Gatherer who saved your Protectorate ass with the Linen, and I personally had to beat down a martial demon to keep another one of your precious relics safe. Show some fucking respect.”

  Reed stood up, his face cold. “I think we’re done.”

  “Goddamned right we’re done.” Brian tugged on his tie knot. “Maybe next time we stumble across a demon with his hands in your cookie jar, we’ll look the other way.”

  “My assistant will show you out.”

  On cue, the door at Brian’s back clicked open. Not waiting for zombie boy, Brian marched out of the office, down the corridor, and into the granite-tiled lobby. This time it was he who jabbed the button. The meeting had ended on a hotter note than he anticipated, but the result was exactly what he’d hoped for: Reed despised him.

  The elevator arrived with a soft ding, and the doors slid open. When they were speeding toward the ground floor once more, MacGregor said quietly, “The goal was to coax information out of the man, no’ have him send us on our way with his boot up our arses.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.” He’d accomplished his goal. He could afford to be gracious.

  “Don’t apologize. My last meeting with Reed ended on a very similar note, but I had hopes you’d do a little better.”

  “I guess I’m not the smooth talker you thought I was.”

  “Reed’s a simpleton.”

  Brian finished removing his tie, rolled it neatly, and tucked it in his pocket. MacGregor was being far too nice. Where was the anger? Wasn’t he the least bit pissed off that Brian had screwed up the meeting? “He’s also a liar.”

  “You still believe the thefts are linked?”

  “Now more than ever. Did you see his face when I suggested Satan might be collecting all the crucifixion relics? I thought he was going to pop a blood vessel. He was too confident about the Shroud of Turin for my crazy-ass guess to be true, but that whole conversation about the dark relics completely freaked him out.”

  They left the building and crossed the street to the car. “Unfortunately,” MacGregor said, sliding behind the wheel, “he was our only hope for official information. Most of the Protectorate hierarchy won’t give us the time of day.”

  “Why not?”

  “They don’t put much faith in sinners. We also supplement our primal powers with heathen magic, and as far as the Protectorate is concerned, that’s heresy.”

  “Now what? There must be another way to figure out if Satan is hunting down specific relics.”

  MacGregor started the S6’s powerful engine, then merged effortlessly into the city traffic. “When I asked Stefan about the relics, he said Christian lore was not his area of expertise. A carefully hedged response that suggests someone inside his organization is an expert. There’s a very good chance the Romany Council has information that can help.”

  “Can Stefan do some digging for us?”

  “I wouldn’t recommend it,” MacGregor answered. “He’s still on the sanctioned mages list, but he’s seen as a black sheep. He’d likely do us more harm than good by getting involved.”

  “So we’re on our own. Any idea where we find the Romany Council?”

  “This time of year? Romania.”

  “Great.” Brian groaned. “Another trip to Europe.”

  MacGregor nodded. “But not for you, for me. I need you to stay here and keep working on Lena Sharpe. She knows where those coins are, and your job is to find them.”

  “Uh, you’ve got new trainees showing up on Monday.”

  “Murdoch can look after them.”

  Brian breathed a sigh of relief. For a second there, he thought his efforts had been wasted and MacGregor was going to leave him in charge.

  “But if you’d prefer to assign one of the others to the task, I’m amenable.”

  “What?”

  MacGregor accelerated up the ramp to the highway. “I’m appointing you the leader in my absence. In addition to holding down the fort, I need you to keep an eye on Emily. I’ll be taking Rachel with me to Romania, but with Satan turning up the heat, the Trinity Soul can’t afford to break from her training.”

  Brian leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Arguing would be pointless. Changing MacGregor’s mind was like trying to move the Rocky Mountains with a bulldozer.

  “Sure, no problem.”

  But goddamn it, the world must have flipped on its axis when he wasn’t looking. First the coins, then Lena, and now the entire Gatherer team.

  He’d become a freaking magnet for responsibility.

  Lena waited for just the right moment.

  Just after breakfast, young Carlos took her on a tour of the ranch. They walked north, away from the long, paved driveway leading up from the main road. Beyond the brick retaining wall, the manicured lawn and green, leafy trees gave way to patches of dry scrub grasses and sporadic copses of straggly bushes. The cicadas droned their soporific song and the halo around the morning sun implied that the temperature would continue to climb, but for now, the heat was bearable.

  A visit to the stables and a few minutes spent tossing bread crumbs into the well-stocked fishpond lulled Carlos into a relaxed, if somewhat somber mood. As they neared the top of the hill that overlooked the entirety of the ranch, Lena decided the time was right. She wrapped her hand around the gold amulet, murmured the search incantation under her breath, and waited for the images to flood her mind.

  Which they swiftly did.

  A picturesque bungalow with lots of windows. A secret room behind the pantry. A vault that shimmered with the magic of several barrier spells... and the coin. Relief softened the tight knots of her stomach muscles. It was here, in the smaller dwelling Rachel and Lachlan MacGregor claimed as theirs.

  Lena dropped to her haunches and adjusted the lace of her boot. Escaping her young jailer was the next order of business.

  “The weather is so much nicer here than in L.A.,” she said. “Not so hot.”

  The boy paused alongside her, doing a quick scan of their surroundings. “I guess.”

  While his eyes were busy searching the horizon for possible dangers, she braced both hands in the rough grass, leaned to one side, and snap-kicked his knee with every ounce of Gatherer power she could summon. It was a perfectly executed kick, directed at the weakest part of his leg. It should have taken him to the ground. At the very least, it should have knocked him off balance, and might have, if the blow had landed.

  But he grabbed her foot midswing.

  Accurately. Effortlessly. Without a glance in her direction.

  Lena had seen her fair share of amazing moves—Gatherers had incredible reflexes—but this was something more. His hand had been a blur, latching onto her ankle with a startling mix of precision and strength. Almost like he’d known where her leg would be and simply put his hand in the right spot.

  Carlos’s gaze dropped to meet hers.

  “Don’t try that again,” he said quietly.

  The relentless darkness in his brown eyes sent a shiver up her spine. Evil lingered there, barely leashed. Not the same evil she’d come to recognize as a thrall demon, but evil nonetheless. And if she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes, her amulet would have confirmed it. It vibrated against her damp skin like a tuning fork. Something was wrong with the boy. Seriously wrong. He was so far outside the norm of a teenage human, or even a Gatherer, she wasn’t sure how to label him.

  She nodded.

  Very few things frightened her anymore, not after the horrible death she had endured. But Carlos Rodriguez made her hands sweat.

  He gently released her leg, then turn
ed and headed up the hill. His long black trench coat grazed the tops of his combat boots as he walked. “Come on, the view of the valley from the ridge is totally awesome.”

  Lena got to her feet. It must have been the mother in her that prompted her next words, because she had the sense that she risked her very existence in uttering them. “Do you think it’s wise to be dating Emily?”

  He halted. For a long moment, he simply stood there, unmoving, his back to her.

  “No,” he said, finally. “I don’t think it’s wise.”

  “Then maybe you should walk away.”

  “I can’t do that.” Carlos turned. The moil of evil had retreated from his gaze, replaced by a sad smile. “She’s the only thing stopping me from coming completely unglued. Sure, I worry that I might hurt her, but it scares me way worse to imagine going on without her. I don’t think I can do it. And I don’t think I’d be doing anyone any favors if I lost control, do you?”

  She swallowed. “No.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I figured.” He spun on his heel and continued his upward trek.

  Lena glanced down the hill toward the MacGregor bungalow. She’d gotten mixed up with a bunch of lunatics. Dangerously competent lunatics. Stealing the coin and making a smooth getaway were going to be more difficult than she had originally planned. But Tariq was due to arrive at LAX in twelve hours, which meant she was running out of time. The Egyptian man knew the value of the coins. If she didn’t meet him at the drop point, there was no telling what he would do.

  Brian studied the disgruntled faces of his inherited troops, then heaved MacGregor’s last suitcase into the trunk. “When did you say you’d be back?”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Can’t take more than a week, can it?” He opened the passenger door for Rachel, who smiled her thanks. Once she was seated, he closed it with a light snap. “Day there, day back, a coupla days in between to powwow. Seems like that oughta do it.”

  MacGregor met his gaze over the roof of the Audi. “Meeting with the council is unlikely to be that simple. They’re Gypsies—they move around. Plus, there’s protocol to be followed.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “Do me and the whole world a favor—find the coins. So far the riots gathering steam in Western Europe haven’t reached Romania, but it will make my task a lot more complicated if I have to navigate angry mobs and homegrown terrorists to get my answers.”

  Brian’s gaze slid left, settling on Murdoch’s huge frame and the much smaller woman standing next to him. The Scot had almost blown a gasket when MacGregor announced who would lead the group in his stead. Lena didn’t look much happier. “I’m all over it.”

  “Don’t let me down, Webster.”

  “Never.”

  On that note, the other man slid into his car, started the engine, and sailed down the lane. Leaving Brian with a heaping plate of obligation.

  “Bri?” Emily scurried to his side, beaming like a lotto winner. She was the only one happy with Lachlan and Rachel’s departure, gleefully anticipating a bout of teenage freedom. Which was why he’d insisted she pack a bag and move into the main house while her parents were gone. “Can we order pizza?”

  “If you’re willing to go get it, sure.”

  She pouted. “Oh, come on. It takes a half hour to drive to the pizza joint and another half hour to drive back. If we call for delivery, we can cut that time in half. It’s a silly rule, not letting us get deliveries.”

  “I don’t give a shit if you think it’s silly.” He grabbed Lena’s elbow and tugged her toward the porch steps. “If you want pizza, get someone to take you into town.”

  Murdoch smiled as he passed by, the smug twist of his lips suggesting Brian had bitten off more than he could chew with Emily.

  Brian paused on the porch. “Murdoch, you’re in charge of the new trainees come Monday. Put together a lesson plan and show it to me in the morning.”

  The big warrior stiffened at the order, but after a brief moment nodded his agreement.

  Shoulders already feeling lighter, Brian added, “Atheborne, check with the cook and see if we need to order perishables from the grocery. Bale, do an inventory of the infirmary. Let’s make sure we have everything we need for minor emergencies. Carlos, you’ve got the bunkhouse. Are we ready to take in a dozen new Gatherers? If not, make it so. And Stefan, top up the armory. Guarantee me that next week will go as smoothly as possible.”

  Then he dragged Lena into the house.

  “You and I need to chat,” he said to Lena. The library was empty, so he drew her inside and closed the door. “I know you don’t want to spend your entire stay at the ranch locked in your room, so give them up. Where are the coins?”

  “It’s not a silly rule.”

  “What isn’t?”

  “The one that says no one should be allowed to deliver goods to the ranch.”

  Brian sighed. “I don’t really care. Can we talk about the Judas coins, please?”

  “I told you, I don’t know where they are.”

  “But you know who has them. This has gone way past serious, Lena. In the space of a week, the world has gone from relative peace to riots in Spain, an ousted prime minister in England, and an army rebellion in China. Satan is already kicking our asses with the coins he has—I can’t let him get hold of the others. This game you’re playing needs to stop. When are you scheduled to hook up with the courier?”

  “I have no arrangement to meet with anyone.” Her gaze dropped to the desk. “You know, it will become quite tedious if you insist on asking me the same questions over and over again.”

  There were several items on the desk, one of which was a digital clock. If time was a concern, maybe he should string things out a little. Turn the heat up, make her sweat. “Don’t worry, I’ve got some new ones. Starting with the FedEx package. Why bother to set that up? You must have sent the chess set before the heist, when you couldn’t have known I’d be on your tail.”

  She shrugged. “Habit. I’m used to muddying my tracks.”

  “And the method you used to track down the coins in the first place. How’d you do it?”

  She rounded the desk, slid onto the leather office chair, and powered up the computer. “It was relatively straightforward. I began with the records of the Knights Templar and then followed the trail of wealth and betrayal right to Duverger’s door.”

  Basically the same route he’d taken, although it had required a few leaps of logic to span the gaps in the records. “What about the New York coins? How did you find them?”

  “Is that where the others are? New York?” She struck just the right note of interest and surprise. Eyes wide, mouth slightly parted, brows faintly knit. If she knew the location before he mentioned it, she hid the fact well.

  “Were,” he corrected softly. “They’ve vanished.”

  “That’s a shame. The full set would be worth a great deal more than a million dollars.”

  “According to my pal at Sotheby’s, as much as five,” he agreed. It was easy to see how she’d survived this long as a Gatherer. She was damned smooth. “Which is why I’m positive you knew they were in New York.”

  She shook her head. “I was only hired to snatch Duverger’s thirteen. No records of the other coins exist.”

  Except inside the Protectorate. Which suggested she had an inside contact. O’Shaunessy? But then what would that say about her involvement in his death?

  “I was in New York the day the coins were stolen,” he offered up. He needed to know the truth. Even if it was ugly. “Shopping at Saks.”

  She went completely still. “Really?”

  “On my list of worst days ever, it’s right up there. A martial demon tore up the store and the church across the street, and I had to collect the souls of way too many innocent bystanders.”

  Her right hand flexed, then relaxed. “Martial demons are very large and powerful. Many a Gatherer has fallen to one.”

  “The bastard almost killed me,” he
agreed. “If I hadn’t been through the very same training you’re about to go through, I’m sure it would have. In the aftermath of the fight, I picked up one of the Judas coins. That’s how I got involved in all this.”

  Her eyes drifted closed.

  He studied the sharp angles of her beautiful face, wondering exactly what her role in the theft had been. Because as much as he wanted to believe otherwise, his gut was telling him she was involved somehow.

  “Why were you in New York, Lena?”

  7

  Emily glared at the screen door of the ranch house.

  “He treats me like a baby,” she said. Why hadn’t he given her a job? She was as capable of handling an assignment as Carlos or Bale. Maybe even more capable.

  “Not a baby,” disputed Carlos, “a trainee. Which you are.”

  “Yeah?” She tugged on Carlos’s hand. “Well, this trainee needs pizza. And if we don’t leave now, Murdoch will find me and drag me off to the arena.”

  He held his ground, his dark stare level and firm. “As he should. You don’t need pizza. You need more practice.”

  “I’m sick of training. That’s all I’ve done for seven months. Train, study. Study, train. All I want is a freakin’ slice of Meat Lover’s. That’s not asking too much, is it?”

  His fingers threaded with hers, and he gently tugged her to his chest.

  “Em, you need to be ready for what’s coming.” He kissed her nose. “You’re the Trinity Soul. People are counting on you. I know you’re capable of a lot more than you’re showing in practice. I can sense it. You just need to learn how to focus, how to tap into the primal energy stream.”

  She grimaced. “You make it sound like I’m a Power Ranger or a Transformer or something. I’m not. I’m just me. Okay, yeah, an immortal me, but still regular old Em.”

  The faintest suggestion of a smile graced his face, the little scar on his lip whitening. “If you’re a regular girl, I guess that makes me a regular guy.”

  She grinned. A grin that quickly faded when she spotted Murdoch hauling her padded training gear into the arena. No one else had to wear that ridiculous outfit, just her. An immortal girl in padding. How crazy was that? “Regular girls and guys should enjoy regular activities. What’s one night out going to cost us? Please.”