The DarkWorld SoulTracker Series Box Set Vol II Read online

  Natasha smiled, but the curve of her lips was sorrowful. She could see right through to my innermost fears, despite how hard I tried to hide it.

  I got to my feet. “I’ll find someone to go with me. I know I will struggle to find the right people, but I’ll take backup with me.” As I spoke, Natasha handed over the address of the herbal shop, and I slipped it into the back pocket of my jeans.

  We said our goodbyes, and I headed to the car. Saleem and Drake were my only options in terms of experience and power.

  Perhaps they were who I needed to start with.

  I arrived home and parked, then plugged the car in before entering the house through the back door to the kitchen.

  I headed upstairs to find the bed made and no sign of Steph. Using the privacy of the room, I placed a call to Saleem, keeping my fingers crossed that he would pick up. But all I got was a voice message assuring me that he would return my call as soon as he was able.

  Something told me that wouldn’t be anytime soon.

  Logan was not an option. He'd have been a great resource if he wasn't unconscious and recovering from the shit Storm and Omega had put him through.

  Frustration boiled within my gut, and I weighed the cell phone in my palm, thinking about my next move.

  I thought about contacting Kailin, but my stomach seemed to balk at the idea. Considering everything that was going on in my walker friend’s life, it would be best to call her for help when and if I had something more solid to go on. Besides, she had more important things happening than for me to ask for help with my poltergeist.

  I could speak to Tara for help, but she too was responsible for far more than me, and I wasn’t sure what the protocol was for obtaining help from the fae queen.

  I sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. What was I doing making up excuse after excuse to not call my friends for help? They were the only people I could rely on anyway, and they would help me no matter what I asked.

  Sighing, I got to my feet, feeling a little calmer. I’d call them.

  I just knew I had to have more to go on before I called in the cavalry.

  Chapter 8

  Pain lanced through my finger.

  I stared at my hand. I’d been deliberately avoiding the most recent sign that I was falling apart. My fingernails.

  Now, I stared at the damaged nail where I’d managed to rip off half the bed of my finger. I’d just put a couple of spare changes of clothing into my rucksack and had caught the already loose and splintered nail in the zipper.

  I ought to wear gloves to hide the fact that the nail on my left pinky had begun to loosen, but I couldn’t figure out how to explain it to Steph who was too nosy to miss the new apparel. Especially since gloves were never my thing and I even disliked the latex gloves I already wore all too often.

  Now, as I freed my fingernail from the zipper, I felt the flush of warm liquid flow over my finger.

  “Fuck,” I said, my voice low and filled with pain.

  “What happened?” asked Steph, walking in and staring at my hand, fingers spread, pinky bloodied. “What the heck did you go and do?”

  I could have lied. I’d fully intended to lie. Problem was the nail on the middle finger of my other hand was also loose and bleeding. “I guess bloody noses aren’t the only symptom of my possession?” I said, offering a shrug and a raised eyebrow.

  Steph inhaled, and I knew she was about to lose it.

  I lifted a hand. “Stop.”

  “What?” Her eyes widened.

  “Stop. Don’t get hysterical. Don’t lose your shit.”

  “I wasn’t about to lose my shit.”

  “Don’t lie.”

  “Okay, fine. I was about to lose my shit, but I have a good reason.” She folded her arms, and rolled her eyes then glanced back at my ruined fingers. “Think about it, you can’t get a luxury mani now.”

  I raised an eyebrow, inhaled deeply and exhaled, giving her a one-eyed glare that had her turning on her heel and rummaging in the first aid cupboard. She returned with antiseptic and bandages.

  “Give.” She crooked her finger, and I obeyed. Better to remain silent and endure her ministrations.

  It was not to be.

  “How stupid are you?” she asked, her tone low and angry.

  “What?” I wasn’t sure what to say because for such a small person she was super scary when she got mad.

  “Why didn’t you tell me how bad this was getting?”

  “Why? So you can bandage my pinky earlier?”

  Steph made a rude noise. “Don’t be dense. It’s immature.”

  I shrugged. “Fine. I didn’t want to worry you. I know how you get.”

  “How I will get is concerned for your freaking welfare. I would have gotten you to speak to Carter about giving you some time to go to NOLA and find the shithead that’s doing this to you.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of.”

  Steph looked up at me and glared harder. I swear if she was a mage and had telekinetic powers, she’d have shriveled me up into a pool of Mel-sludge by now.

  I sighed. “Look. I know you’re worried, but I couldn’t do anything about NOLA before today. I had to wait until Natasha cracked through the poltergeist’s shield.”

  “He has a shield now?”

  I nodded, avoiding the snark in her tone. “Natasha tried a few times since we found out about the locations. We wanted to be more certain of where to find him. If I just headed out there, trolling the streets looking for him, it would have been very easy to bring attention to myself. Natasha wanted more detailed information on the location before I headed there.”

  “At the expense of your health?”

  I shrugged again. “I suppose I’d rather lose a couple fingernails than lose my head, heart or entrails if I went in blind and ended up his prisoner.”

  Steph let out a soft sigh then reached out to gather the bloodied cotton puffs and swabs. “Fine. It makes sense. Somewhat. But I’m not going to pretend that I like the idea.” She threw the waste in the trash and headed to the sink to wash her hands. The water ran for a few seconds, and I wondered what I was supposed to say to make her feel better. I was tired of apologizing. It was like I needed to apologize for the sun setting. My evil spirit had become a constant, a thing in my life that I had gotten used to.

  “I don’t understand why the talisman isn’t working to protect you from this,” she said mostly to herself. Then she turned and reached for a hand towel drying her eyes as she glared at me. “Sort this shit out, please. I’m not sure how much more I can take.”

  I sighed and went over to her. Taking her into my arms, I gave her a tight hug. She’d stayed with me through everything. She was family. I owed it to her as much as I owed it to Natasha or even myself to get rid of this spirit once and for all.

  After talking to Steph, I headed upstairs to the comms center. We’d set up a camp bed for me to nap on while Steph was working in there, somewhere I could crash when she was too busy to stay with me.

  Frankly, I was getting tired of being babysat. Who’d have thought a grown woman would need supervision while she slept.

  I was just entering the comms room when my cell phone began to vibrate in my pocket. Slipping it out, excitement filled me as I expected it to be Saleem, but I had to temper my disappointment when I saw that the call was from Carter at the Elite Agency.

  “Morgan,” I answered sticking to the neutral formality.

  “Agent Morgan, I have a new case for you.”

  I was already shaking my head, the action making me feel a little light-headed. “I apologize, sir, but I cannot accept this particular case,” I spoke a little too fast, afraid that the first time I declined a case would result in trouble down the line. He’d said in my interview that my cases would take priority and that I could decline cases. Still, until now I hadn’t taken advantage of the option.

  He cleared his throat. “May I ask the reason?” he asked then chuckled. “Of course you are not required t
o answer.”

  I smiled at the man’s formality. “I need some personal time, sir. There’s something I need to attend to. It’s very important. I wouldn’t turn a case away otherwise.”

  “That I can quite understand, Agent Morgan.” Paper shuffled on his end of the line, and then he said, “Can I offer you assistance? Do you require backup?”

  I declined the offers, grateful that he’d thought to give me the option. And yet a part of me wondered why he would bother. I worked for him, not the other way around. Most people, especially employers rarely did something for nothing. Still, I had no reason not to trust him.

  In addition, he knew about the DNA samples Darius had requested be sent to him and yet my superior had kept the information to himself.

  Before he rang off, he reassured me that I was welcome to ask for help at any time. The team was at my disposal.

  “Thank you, sir.” I was a little unsure of what to do. I needed the help, but were pride and fear going to hobble my every step? What if declining the help of the Elite guaranteed my failure?

  I considered putting his offer on the back burner, something to fall back on when and if I needed it.

  “So where are you going, if I may ask?”

  Although I hesitated for a moment, I figured it didn’t really matter if he knew my destination.

  “New Orleans, sir.”

  “Interesting.” He cleared his throat again. “How interesting. My case, the one I wanted you to consult on, it’s in NOLA. I know you declined, but perhaps if you are in the vicinity you could have a look?”

  I raised my eyebrows. That was a huge coincidence right there. And how could I decline to assist when I was going right to where his case was?

  By the time I’d rung off, I’d agreed to look into the case when I arrived in NOLA, and Carter agreed to send the files over to my email so I could look them over. He expressed his gratitude and left me to cut the call and wonder how I’d gotten swindled into working even though I’d requested personal time.

  Chapter 9

  “You don’t have backup. I thought I told you you needed someone to go with you?” Steph railed at me. She wasn’t holding back in the least, and I understood. I’d leaned on her a lot in the last few days, and she knew firsthand how weak I’d grown.

  But as much as Steph protested, I knew she couldn’t do more than just complain. She couldn’t leave as she had exams, but I could tell from the reluctant longing in her eyes that she was torn, as if she wanted to come with me instead.

  “Don’t even think about it. You’re not coming with me.”

  “But I can be of help.”

  I lifted a hand, flinching as I caught sight of two bare fingernail beds. I ignored them and said, “It’s irrelevant. You have exams, and that’s way more important.”

  “But you don’t have any backup. You don’t have a team helping you. How can I be certain that you’ll come back home safely?”

  I wanted to tell her that there was no guarantee I would return alive. Truth be told, I was just as likely of ending up on a demonic plane as I was of surviving a run-in with this dark evil.

  “I promise I’ll be safe. Please, Steph. You’re the only person I know who can hold the fort for me. If you come and something happens to you, how will everything else run? You refuse to train someone to take over, and now you’re indispensable so if anything you’re to blame.”

  Steph snorted, but her expression was still sad.

  “Look I promise to stay in touch.”

  “How?” she asked, her voice resonated with something that remained unsaid.

  I lifted a shoulder. “What do you have in mind?”

  Steph withdrew a small case from her pocket. “I appropriated it from the Elite’s stock. It’s an earwig and a microphone. Keep it on you at all times. It’s got a locator chip on it, so if I lose track of you, we can send Cassandra or Larsson.”

  “I hope you made a record of its removal from the inventory.”

  Steph made a face. “Don’t get your knickers in a knot. Greg from IT sent a spare set over for us to keep at home just in case.”

  I smiled and allowed Steph to go through the motions and test the sound and the batteries. The process was pretty simple, and I had it down pat within seconds, but I allowed Steph the run through even when she insisted on a third go just to be sure.

  “So…how exactly are you getting to NOLA?” she asked, studying her nails.

  “I am going…” I paused. I’d gotten so used to being able to jump when and where I’d wanted that I’d automatically assumed I’d be jumping myself there. Apparently not.

  Steph clicked her tongue. “Don’t you worry about a thing. I have it under control.”

  Only moments went by before the space before me began to take on the colors of a Sentinel officer’s suit. The floating dark greens and reds solidified, and Larsson appeared, giving both myself and Steph an engaging smile.

  I saluted Steph just in time as Larsson wasted not a single moment. Within half a second he’d jumped me to New Orleans.

  We arrived in the middle of an empty loft, walls and floor bare, floor-to-ceiling windows covered in a layer of dust so thick that the room was shadowed despite the sun shining brightly outside.

  “Thanks,” I said softly as Larsson let go of me and I wobbled on unsteady legs.

  He gave me a sober nod and walked over to the window, studying the street for a few moments. “I’ll stick around until the coast is clear.”

  I joined him at the window and glanced up at his profile. “You don’t need to. I’m fine.”

  He didn’t answer, instead scanning the narrow street below. The loft was located just under a dozen doors up from the herbal store which stood on the other side of the street.

  Herbs & Things. An interesting name.

  Larsson’s jaw was hard and tight, and I had a feeling I wouldn’t be able to budge him. So I gave in and left him at the window as I searched the apartment and checked all the windows for the best line of sight to the shop. Larsson had always been an almost in-the-background friend. An agent with the Sentinel agency, he was a friend of Kailin’s grandmother and he, along with the ShapeChanger Cassandra, were always available to the older agent.

  I’d been glad that on many an occasion either one or both of them had come to my aid. So I decided the best thing to do was to let him be. I wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

  After about ten minutes of watching the store, I left the apartment quietly, descending the creaky wooden stairs. The place smelled musty and dusty, as if it had been closed up and unused for years. In the background were the odors of mold and damp, probably rotting woodwork which would explain the abandoned state of what could have been a high-rent loft.

  At the exterior door, I waited, projecting for a few seconds to ensure I didn’t walk right into a passerby. With the coast clear, I opened the door and headed into the bright sunlight, bringing my glasses over my eyes to hide the glare. The air was thick and muggy, and I could almost feel my hair beginning to frizz. The air smelled of ozone and something flashed high above me, as if lightning was sparking among the remnants of clouds floating above.

  I ignored the weather and concentrated on crossing the street and weaving through the pedestrians as they huddled outside storefronts or searched for tables at the café opposite the loft.

  My presence raised no eyebrows, and barely anyone looked in my direction. New Orleans was probably too used to ignorant tourists to give me any attention. I reached Herbs & Things within minutes and paused outside, peering in through the glass as I pretended to study my phone.

  Inside the small store, I made out the shapes of two people, one at the counter, the other sweeping the floor between the shelves on the left of the entrance. The windows were sprayed unevenly with a bronze paint making it hard to see details inside. Still, I managed to confirm that both the people from my projection were now in the store.

  As I pushed the door open, the movement se
t off a harsh jingling overhead. The girl behind the counter looked up, a ready smile on her face, a dimple popping up in her cheek. She waited as I closed in on the counter, an eager expression on her face.

  “Good morning,” she beamed as she spoke, “can I help you find anything?” Her eyes settled on my bracelet, and her expression flattened for the briefest second.

  I was about to shake my head when I realized that it would be suspicious if I’d come in without wanting anything in particular. I looked over my shoulder and hoped I appeared nervous as I glanced over at the scowling sweeper who was glaring at me with dark eyes.

  I bit my lip and looked back at the girl. “I…I need something to prevent…I mean I think I may be…um—”

  The girl shook her head and smiled. “I think I have exactly what you need.”

  I raised my eyebrows and hoped I looked startled.

  She ignored my expression and hurried away as I again pretended to study my phone. Instead, I was transmitting images of the products on the counter to Steph. The more information we gathered on the store, the easier it would be to find the connection.

  The girl returned moments later and set a small round bottle on the table. It had a cork stopper, and within the glass, I made out a hazy, smoky blue liquid.

  This time the concern on my face was genuine. What the hell was she giving me?

  The girl laughed softly. “Don’t worry. It looks worse than it is.” She leaned close. “I’m assuming you need to be certain you don’t end up with a bun in the oven. This potion will ensure that any fertilized eggs will not come to term.”

  I swallowed, pretending to be afraid as I held my phone up to scan more of the store. “I’m not sure…Is it dangerous?”

  “It’s no more dangerous than the morning-after pill,” she said with a gentle smile. She must have been convinced by my nervous female act because she held out her hand. “I’m Lorin Shaye, by the way.”