Darkness Wanes (26 page)

“Yes. We’ll go through their statements later and call in those who appear to have a valid complaint. The police got tired of handling it and started sending people to us this week. They’ve been coming in non-stop ever since.” She sighed. The secretary struck me as the type of woman who usually had things under complete control. This had to be driving her crazy.

“Patrick,” I said, turning to him. “I’m going to need to talk to O’Connell alone for a few minutes. Why don’t you help this woman out by getting a stack of forms and handing them out to the people in line?”

The secretary’s stern face brightened. “That is an excellent idea. I’ve got some spare pens we can give to those who need them as well.”

“But, I thought…” Patrick began.

“Take these and start handing them down the line,” the woman said, shoving forms and a box of pens at him.

I patted him on the arm. “You’ll do fine. If anyone asks any questions, just tell them you’re not at liberty to say. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Before he could argue, I took off. The secretary seemed like the type who could keep him busy until I returned and it would do him some good to help out. I found O’Connell at his desk, looking over a stack of the complaint forms. It was almost a foot high. I prayed I didn’t get drafted into helping him with those, especially since we had more pressing concerns.

The agent held up a sheet of paper, annoyance on his face. “This idiot is claiming his neighbor’s dog is a werewolf.”

“You never know. Being someone’s pet is a great way to get free food,” I said, taking a seat in the chair across from him.

His lips thinned. “Werewolves can’t turn during the day.”

“True.” I straightened my jacket, remembering why I rarely wore a suit. “So what have you learned about that cult group?”

O’Connell tossed the werewolf complaint form into a pile he’d started on the floor. I had a pretty good guess which ones those denoted. A much smaller stack sat on the corner of his desk for the ones he likely planned to investigate further.

“The main office has been looking into it. The leader, Grant, has not been easy to track and changes his appearance frequently. They have pinpointed a man we believe to be his second-in-command. He moves around a lot recruiting for the group, but we’re working on finding out his next stop.”

I perked up. “I want in on the arrest.”

“Actually...” He rubbed at his temples. “The agency has become so overwhelmed lately they may let us spearhead it, depending on the circumstances. I’ll have to let you know.”

I refrained from rubbing my hands in glee. Nothing would make me feel better than nabbing one of the bad guys. If I was ever going to get out of the emotional slump I’d been in since Purgatory, I needed to do something productive.

“Give me a name and address and I’ll be there.”

He nodded. “As I said, we’re not certain where he’s going next, but as soon as we know, I’ll get you on a plane. In the meantime, there’s plenty to do around here.”

I inwardly cringed, visions of complaint forms dancing around in my head. “Have you learned anything else about the group?”

“We’re certain they’re active in at least a dozen cities.” He pulled a file from his desk drawer and handed it to me. “Some of the low-level members haven’t been difficult to find, but it’s the leaders we want more.”

“Agreed.” I scanned the file. It mostly contained information on various websites they’d linked to the group, vague correspondence, and a list of user names. Other than it being clear the cult planned something big, there wasn’t much to go on.

“Didn’t you say you’d be bringing another sensor with you?” O’Connell asked.

“Oh, yeah.” I handed the file back to him. “Patrick is outside helping your secretary. She looked a little overwhelmed, and I wanted to see what you had first before bringing him in.”

O’Connell’s brows drew together. “I know he has provided us with a lot of valuable intel so far, but do you trust him?”

“I’ve questioned him thoroughly, and he seems genuine. We’ll just have to be careful until he proves himself.” It was the only thing I could be sure about at the moment. Patrick could turn out to be a great resource if he was trustworthy.

The agent sat back in his chair. “Alright. Send him in and I’ll talk to him. He might have some insights into this group we haven’t considered, but I will require him to submit to a full background check.”

“Please do.”

It couldn’t hurt for the agency to dig a little deeper into Patrick, and while I didn’t care for O’Connell’s cocky attitude, he was good at his job and would see things from a different angle than me. More than once when we’d interrogated detainees in the Middle East, we’d found working together was more effective than apart.

“Good.” He frowned at the mess on his desk. “I’ll try to find the forms for him to fill out.”

“Be back in a minute.” I headed off to grab Patrick.

I found him standing with the secretary at her desk, listening to an irate man give a speech about one of his neighbors. In this case, he thought the elderly lady across the street must be a witch.

The man gestured wildly with his hands. “She’s always on her front porch sweeping with one of those old-style wooden brooms and givin’ me the evil eye. I moved to my house six months ago, and I’ve had a bad cough that she must have…”

“There are no witches in Fairbanks,” I said, interrupting him.

He glared at me. “How would you know?”

“Supernatural politics,” I answered ambiguously. “In general, they aren’t welcome here. If your neighbor is a witch, it’s not the magical kind.”

“But…”

I gave him a stern look and repeated my new catchphrase. “Trust me, it’s my job to know these things.”

“I’ve got your complaint form, and we will review it thoroughly,” the secretary said, giving him a civil smile. “You may go now.”

He stomped away, muttering under his breath.

“If only I could get rid of them all that easily.” The blond woman sighed and eyed me with newfound respect. She hadn’t waved the next person inside, so the people lined up in the corridor probably hadn’t heard her, though at this point, she might not have cared.

“I have to steal Patrick away now, but he’ll be back soon.” I pulled the sensor into the hall. “How do you feel about background checks?” I asked.

He knitted his brows. “Huh?”

I paused a few feet from O’Connell’s office. “Well, if you really want to be proactive against Grant’s group and protect innocent people, this is the place to do it. There’s a chance they’ll hire you as a consultant, but you’ve got to agree to background checks first.”

“You mean I could work officially, and they might even pay me?” he asked.

“If you’re useful.”

A mixture of expressions crossed his face. “I, uh, never dreamed I’d be able to do something like this.”

“So you’re not against working for the government?” I was trying to assess his true feelings on the matter.

He’d seemed semi-interested when I’d spoken to him about coming here last night, but after returning from the nerou compound, we’d both been tired. He’d trained harder than I expected and managed to take Tormod down a few times—though he’d also been thrown to the ground many times himself.

“Not at all,” he said, a hint of excitement in his voice. “I’ve been laying low for so long and living off the land that the idea of holding a regular job sounds perfect. Especially since I can use my abilities for good and be able to do more for my daughter.”

It was then that something clicked for me. Part of his reluctance in staying here might have had to do with his financial situation. Lucas couldn’t find any work history on Patrick beyond college, which meant whatever resources he’d used to survive couldn’t have been unlimited. I should have thought about that before.

“Alright. I’ll introduce you to O’Connell then.”

He nodded, and we went into the office.

“Have a seat, Patrick,” the agent said, gesturing at a chair. “I’ve got some questions for you and I expect honest answers.”

I left them to go grab coffee. It was going to take a lot of caffeine to get through today.

Chapter Twenty-two

Melena

We pulled up to the house after a full day at the DHS office. Following a long talk with Patrick that went surprisingly well, O’Connell ran a couple of the quicker background checks on Emily’s father. His police record came back clear, no red flags came up on the agency database, and he had a clean credit report. The more in-depth investigation on him would take a while.

For now, we’d hired Patrick as a temporary consultant. He wouldn’t get to see any confidential reports, but he could act as an advisor and assist in low-level office matters such as handling the complaint forms. I was almost certain that was the main reason O’Connell took him on as quickly as he did.

Leaving Patrick to grab the dinner we’d picked up on the way home, I headed inside and found Lucas sitting in the den watching the news. They were showing a report about two witch sisters in Salt Lake City who’d been shot to death in their beds. The attackers had executed their plan so quickly that the victims never even woke up. Considering witches put protection spells on their homes, a sensor had to be involved, but as of yet no one had been apprehended for the murders. I’d already heard about it at the office and didn’t want to listen to it anymore. Cases like that one were starting to crop up with increasing frequency every day. I picked up the remote and changed the channel to something with boring commercials.

“The fools can’t leave well enough alone,” Lucas said, annoyed.

We might not agree on much, but we did on this. “I’m going to find Grant and put a stop to him and his cult.”

“Of that, I have no doubt, sensor.” He spoke with complete confidence in me. There was something particularly satisfying about having his support in this, though I wished it could always be that way.

“Where is everyone else?” I asked, moving closer to him.

Lucas pulled me into his lap and brushed his lips against mine. A shiver ran through my body as his heat enveloped me. Though I was tired from my first full day at work, I decided tonight would be the night we finally got more intimate. He’d kept his distance so far, insisting I had to get stronger and healthier first, but I’d waited long enough. Lucas would just have to stop treating me like a china doll who might break at the slightest touch.

It was a small miracle he’d let me fight Sabelle, though I’d made a point of ending it fast so that he wouldn’t interfere. Even then, he’d made me take it easy the rest of the evening due to the damage she’d caused me internally—which had healed during the night. I had to keep putting myself in his shoes and remember that my age and strength must seem weak in comparison to his. After Lucas’ horrible stays in Purgatory, which were far worse than mine, he probably couldn’t imagine how I might recover anytime in the near future.

“Cori picked Emily up after her classes,” he said, his voice coming out husky. He must have been feeling the effects of our nearness, too. “When she arrived at the school, she mentioned something about taking Emily shopping for girl items that I chose not to question. Micah and Kerbasi should have finished their shift at the training facility early in the afternoon, but they haven’t come home yet.”

Cori hadn’t said anything to me about taking Emily, but she’d probably figured telling Lucas was enough. What held Micah and Kerbasi up, I couldn’t imagine. It was almost six in the evening now, and they usually came home in time for dinner.

“Has Bartol left his cave today?” I couldn’t sense any emotions coming from the nephilim at the moment, but I didn’t know if that meant he slept or just sat there meditating like he did a lot.

Lucas glanced at the closed office door across the room. “He came out once this morning to eat breakfast and take a brief walk outside. I have not seen him since.”

It drove me nuts to leave Bartol alone, but we had to at least give him some time to adjust before trying to break that shield he’d put around himself. A part of me was still amazed Bartol had performed the summoning spell with Remiel, though he’d hardly talked to us since then.

I nodded at Patrick, who entered the room. “We picked up pizza.”

“Got it right here.” The sensor set four boxes down on the coffee table, filling the den with their rich aroma.

The door to the office cracked open a moment later, and Bartol cautiously poked his head out. Food was one of the few things I’d found that could draw him away from seclusion, which was partly why we’d decided to eat in the den. Patrick had been the one to suggest the plan—to my surprise. You knew it had to be bad when even he offered suggestions for how to help a nephilim with major PTSD.

“Don’t worry, it’s safe. We’re the only ones here,” I said, giving Bartol an encouraging smile.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out he was trying to determine if Kerbasi was home. Everyone in the house made an effort to keep them separated and so far we’d been successful. I could only hope we managed to keep it up until Bartol was ready to move into his own place.