Nathan had been holding his breath, sensing the figure in the third floor lobby debate whether or not to get onto the dark elevator. He watched the colors of her aura, puzzled, but not interested enough to risk being discovered. The lighting was too low for him to make out anything but her shape. She looked … thick. Short and bulky.
Just when the elevator doors started to close, she waved her hand between them and moved into the elevator.
She was headed to the first floor. Probably a doctor or nurse working late who took the brief blackout as a hint it was time to leave.
He waited until the doors closed firmly before easing behind her and grabbing her. One arm snaked around her midsection. His other hand went across her mouth.
“Quiet,” he said.
Her clothing was bulky. The woman in his arm wasn’t bulky or thick. Her head came just to his chin, and her form felt firm, a layer of toned muscle beneath soft skin. She smelled like a cross between spice and antiseptic.
He tugged her back to the corner, automatically adjusting to the fact she seemed off-balance. She wasn’t struggling and had made no attempt to scream. Her body molded perfectly into his, her hair tickling his nose and her scent lacing through his senses. There was an intangible familiarity about her or maybe, the sense she was in his arms because she was supposed to be.
Something’s not right. I shouldn’t feel like I know her.
“At the count of three, I’m going to let you talk. You’re going to tell me where patient forty one is,” he said slowly, his lips pressed to her ear. “If you scream or give me any other answer but the one I want, this may not go well for you. Nod if you understand.”
She nodded.
“One, two, three.” He released her mouth and wrapped his arm around her neck instead.
The woman’s breathing was uneven. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know,” he repeated.
One of the gifts he had as a spirit guide was the ability to tap into the energy from the Other Side. He did so now and pushed it into the woman. What her aura wouldn’t tell him, the energy might. It would read her body.
She was recently injured and under the influence of some sort of drug, which explained her strange calm.
With one arm around her neck, he released her body and reached across her to grip her left shoulder.
“No!” Her cry was a strangled whisper. She squirmed, tensing against his body.
“Easy, sweetheart,” he replied. “Patient forty one.” He gripped her shoulder. What he did would hurt initially. His hand almost glowed from the amount of hot energy he shoved into the wound.
“Stop!” the woman gasped. She elbowed him with her good arm, trying to wriggle away.
Nathan leaned into her, trapping her between his body and the elevator wall.
She was panting, the colors of her aura all over the place.
“I don’t know,” she said again. “I came for … a tour. Got stabbed by some crazy chick. I just woke up. I don’t know.”
Her body said it was the truth. Before Nathan could ask anything else, the woman slumped, unconscious.
He sighed, irritated. The girl they came to break out wasn’t in the room she was assigned to on the third floor. Maggy had said to check the basement second. They had limited time with the power being out before it was restored. He needed to find her and get out.
And here he was with some other woman unconscious in his arms. He debated leaving her then decided not to. She’d had a rough enough day.
The door dinged, indicating they’d reached the main floor. Nathan balanced the woman and bent, lifting her. The lobby was dark, and he made out the shape of a couch.
He crossed to it and set the small woman on it. Unable to see her face, he leaned down and placed his hand on her wound again. She murmured in objection but didn’t wake.
The energy was pooling around her injury. She’d be healed by morning.
He drew circles counter clockwise in the air above her to prevent the energy from escaping. Satisfied, Nathan returned to the elevator and went to the basement.
The door opened.
While auxiliary power had kicked in on the upper three floors, it hadn’t here. Orderlies moved through the hallways quickly with flashlights, securing doors and guiding patients back to their rooms. Nathan used their auras as a guide to track who went where and moved stealthily through the hallway, guided by a rainbow of colors only he was able to see.
The girl he sought would glow white and sparkly. He glanced through the windows of rooms as he walked. All the way at the other end of the hallway, two rooms before the dead end, he found her.
Nathan tested the door. It was locked. He reached into a cargo pocket and whipped out a lock pick set, suspecting things were about to get messy when the lights came on and the beefy orderlies spotted him.
He knelt calmly. He traced the outline of the lock with one hand then pulled out his first tool.
The door opened. He looked up, surprised to see the first gen angel he sought standing in the doorway.
Her aura flared a few different colors – yellow for anxiety, green for excitement and blue for sorrow – before it faded to pure white once more.
Nathan stood. She was shaking and tall. He started to speak quietly then stopped, aware she couldn’t hear him. Instead, he rested a hand on her arm and pushed energy into her, knowing a first gen angel would understand the comforting gesture.
She took his hand and squeezed it.
It was enough for now. Nathan shoved the locksmith tools into his pocket and tugged her down the hallway. They paused before the common area, and he calculated quickly how to weave through the chaos before him. After a few seconds, he drew the first gen angel into his side so he could steer her body, then plunged into the mess.
She clung to him, trembling, as he moved deftly through the orderlies and patients milling and darting through the common area and hall. Nathan stretched his senses, the ones originally crafted during war in the Roman Empire to predict an enemy’s movement before he moved.
He reached the other side of the common area and released her, taking her hand.
His watch vibrated, indicating he was out of time. Nathan slid a knit mask over his face then ran. They reached the door separating a waiting area and elevators from the patients just as the lights went back on.
The locks were back in place. He pushed at the door. The keycard reader was glowing once more, indicating he’d need an access key.
“Hey!” someone shouted from down the hall.
Nathan whirled and drew one knife. He took the first gen’s hand and placed it on the keycard reader. She nodded, and he stepped away from her.
The orderly racing down the hallway stopped at the sight of the wicked curved blade of his knife. Nathan kept it lowered in warning rather than as a threat. While the orderly tried to think of how to react, Nathan nudged the angel with his elbow.
The door clicked open behind him. He snatched her hand and yanked her through then slammed it shut.
“Good girl,” he said, aware she didn’t hear him.
He punched the elevator button, eyes on the door.
“Nate?” Her loud voice jarred him.
Nathan glanced at her, taking in the youthful features and slender body. Her eyes were slightly glazed. She was drugged, though for what reason, he couldn’t imagine. Maggy described her as the last person on the planet who would hurt anyone.
He raised his index finger to his lips. The elevator doors opened, and they plunged in. He went up to the fourth floor, used mainly for storage.
He checked the landing area before motioning for the girl to follow. Nathan grimaced at the alarm that sounded when he shoved through the door leading to the single stairwell in the entire building. He went up, two stairs at a time, then shoved his shoulder against the door leading onto the roof.
The fall night was chilly and clear. The blare of alarms was in the air, and floodlights lit up the area around the center in every direction except one: the side leading to the forest.
He took the first gen’s hand and trotted across the roof until he reached the gear he’d stashed earlier. The anchor was in place. He tossed the rope down, knelt on one knee and motioned to the girl to climb on his back.
She did, wrapping her arms around his neck. When he stood, she gave a loud, drunken laugh. Nathan snorted and clipped himself to the rope.
He made his way down the side of the building, unclipped himself, and gently shrugged the girl off his back.
“You’re supposed to be faster than this,” Maggy hissed.
“She wasn’t where you said she was,” he snapped. “I had to improvise.”
“Randy, take her. We’ll create some sort of diversion,” Maggy said to the guide lingering in the shadows.
Heart pounding at the narrow escape, Nathan couldn’t help thinking he hadn’t felt this alive in a few hundred years.
The first gen hesitated when Randy moved forward. She twisted to peer up at Nathan uncertainly. He nudged her forward. She didn’t resist when Randy took her arm and led her away.
“Angels always trusted you,” Maggy said. “I never understood it.”
“They know I’m an impartial third party.” Nathan glanced up from the rope he wound in his hands.
“Whatever. I figured it was the opposite. They know you care, on some level only they can see.”
“Oh, snap. Sistah Maggy’s gone and accused me of having emotions,” he teased. “She’s drugged. You said she was icing sweet.”
“She is,” Maggy replied. “She checked herself in and started out as being there voluntarily.”
Nathan rolled his eyes. He tucked the rope away and pulled out a flare and fireworks. They had a few different plans for creating diversions. This was the least harmful.
“He was here,” Maggy said. “The fallen guardian.”
Nathan froze, senses sharpening. He didn’t sense anything but the normal guardian angels that were always crowding around their humans. They were like tiny bursts of warmth.
“You sure?” he asked.
“Yeah. It was brief then gone. I grabbed the visitor list while you were ambling through the place, taking your sweet time. And her file, since we don’t know anything about this girl.”
“Hold that sarcasm,” he growled. “I’ll be back.” He trotted away, the opposite direction that Randy had gone. A few hundred feet into the forest, he lit the flare and set down the fireworks. In about three minutes, they’d go off.
He sprinted back to Maggy, tapped her arm and continued to the rendezvous point. She ran behind him. The fireworks exploded in the trees and sky behind them, covering the sounds of Randy starting the van.
Nathan flung himself into one of the bucket seats in back, followed closely by Maggy. She slammed the door closed.
“Go, Randy,” she directed. “Lights off until we hit the highway.”
“Got it.”
Nathan twisted to check on the first gen. The girl was huddled in a ball on the bench seat. He touched her, using his energy to assess her. She was healthy and dozing.
“Whatever they gave her is strong,” he said. “What is she doing there?”
“We think she freaked out after her guide got killed,” Maggy said. “The center is one of the regional safe spots. It’s run by a tenth gen and his son, a fifth gen. They keep a stock of moonstones around, so it’s possible her guide told her to come here before he was murdered.”
“Her room was full of it,” Nathan said, recalling the moonstones he’d seen when Amira opened the door to her room. “If these guys are gens, why not just ask them to send her home with us?”
“Because no one can know about her or where she goes. Pedro said this much,” Maggy replied. “She got caught up in the law before she admitted herself. We think she was trying to hide in the nuthouse so she didn’t have to go to court.”
“Smart. Court is way too visible, if a fallen guardian is targeting her.”
“Exactly.”
Nathan was quiet, thinking. Something else was going on. He didn’t know what, but he knew Maggy wasn’t telling him the full story.
“Nate.” The first gen’s voice made him look back. She stretched out a hand to him, her blue eyes swimming with emotions in the dim light of the van’s dashboard.
“Right here, babe.” He took her hand instinctively, accustomed to the often fragile first gens. They were almost like children, and he was the older brother charged with taking care of them. He leaned down to the bag he’d brought with him and withdrew a snow globe.
Handing it to her, he saw her timid smile. She took the sparkle-filled ball and shook it, settling back onto the seat.
“You are the most abrasive guide in the corps, and angels love you. How do you do that?” Maggy grumbled.
“The same reason you were always in a hurry to take your clothes off for me,” he replied, amused. “I’ve got that animal magnetism. Angels see someone they can trust, and women see someone they want to fuck.”
“You smoke, drink, never follow the rules and refuse to commit to anyone. There is nothing about you remotely redeemable,” she snapped.
“Which is why I’m the first one someone in trouble calls and the only guide every angel in existence trusts. Oh, and I’m sure you’ll still be interested in some no-strings-attached naked reiki tonight,” he replied, unfazed.
Maggy was pissed. Her aura went red, and she climbed into the passenger seat, away from him.
Nathan smiled. He rested his head back, tired after the travel and long day. His thoughts went to the woman in the elevator, and he was startled that the memory of her spicy scent and shapely body stirred his blood. Her body had devoured his energy in a sign she was unbalanced spiritually.
She wasn’t his to fix, though. Whoever her guide was, he was slacking.
He was truly tired, if he got a hard on about some stranger whose face he hadn’t even seen when he had a beauty like Maggy nearby. Maggy tried to play hard-to-get, but she always folded. Before dawn, Nathan would be sated and sleeping naked next to her in bed.
Like old times.
Randy drove them back towards Washington DC, where they reached a townhouse in the suburb of Clarendon, Virginia, a few hours before dawn. Nathan got out of the car and waited, offering a hand to the drowsy first gen.
Amira sighed, her pupils still dilated in a sign she was under the influence of drugs. She clutched the snow globe in one hand and a small dice pouch in the other. When she saw him looking at it, she shoved it quickly into her pocket.
“Secrets?” he asked.
She shook her head and hurried away, following Randy into the house.
“Might be a good thing she’s drugged up,” Nathan observed.
“How can one, sweet little first gen be at the middle of this?” Maggy voiced his puzzlement out loud. “And why won’t Pedro tell us anything?”
“You know Pedro. There’s no telling what he’s thinking at any given time,” Nathan said. He trailed Amira into the house, his eyes on her.
She was nervous, peering into each room they passed as if something was tracking her. It was a dead giveaway that there was at least one person who knew what was going on.
“Full bar,” Nathan said in approval as they reached the second level. “Stocked?”
“Of course,” Maggy answered.
Nathan crossed to it. He caught Amira’s eye and signaled for her to sit on the couch in the adjacent living room. She did so while Randy put on a pot of coffee and Maggy peeled off the weapons and long-sleeved shirt to reveal a snug t-shirt beneath.
His gaze swept over her lithe, slender frame in appreciation. Maggy was always good in bed, even if they often butted heads outside the bedroom.
Nathan poured himself a double shot of scotch on the rocks then took his drink into the living room. Amira and Maggy sat on the couch, while he chose the chair directly across from both.
“All right, girls. Let’s talk,” he said calmly. “Who wants to tell me her secret first?”
The two women exchanged a look. Amira clenched her snow globe harder while Maggy sighed and loosened her ponytail to shake her hair loose.
“Amira, why is a fallen guardian chasing you?” Nathan asked. He sipped his drink, refusing to look away from her.
She hesitated. “Because I know where a gateway to Hell is. He wants to find it.”
Nathan lowered his drink, not expecting the frank response or the severity of her claim.
“I don’t know how he found me,” Amira’s unguarded voice was laced with distress and sorrow. “Scott told me to hide, that Shadowman can’t find me, no matter what. And then they killed him.”
“Shadowman. The fallen guardian’s name?”
She nodded.
“Do you know the name of his human host?”
She shook her head.
“I might know that,” Maggy said, pulling out a piece of folded paper from her pocket. “I tore this out before we left.” She read through it. “Of the twelve visitors who came to the center yesterday, only one came to see Amira.” She held out the visitor log to Nathan.
He stretched forward to take it and set his drink on the coffee table.
“Michael Harrison, Esquire,” he read. “I don’t think it’s a coincidence that this Michael came by, and suddenly Shadowman knows where she is.”
Amira was staring at the floor, distraught.
“It’s got his address and everything,” Nathan observed. “I think we need to pay him a visit.”
“Okay, but we’re not just walking in there, if Shadowman is around. He’ll know us on sight,” Maggy objected. “Let’s put together some sort of plan, Nate. I know you work solo, but this is important.”
“I understand,” he said. “I’m not opposed to working on teams when necessary. You know I can handle a demon, though, which makes me think you’re withholding information, too.”
“Yeah, well, we’re not the only ones who might be interested in Mike,” Maggy said.
“They killed Scott, Nathan,” Amira said out of the blue, meeting his gaze again.
Maggy looked at her fast enough that Nathan sensed this was one of the secrets.
He leaned forward. “Who?”
“Other guides.” Amira’s eyes watered. First gens didn’t deal with violence and death well. He assessed she’d seen Scott’s death.
“He wasn’t killed by demons?” Nathan’s eyebrows shot up.
“No,” Maggy said softly. “We thought at first it was that Satanist cult up in Maryland. They’ve got this insanely effective second gen named Eddy who can carve a pumpkin in two seconds blindfolded.”
Nathan listened, aware that it was very rare for a second gen to lose his faith so completely that he chose to commit evil against the very humans he’d been protecting two generations before. It was yet another omen that whatever was happening, it was much greater than just one fallen guardian.
“But she’s right. It was guides.” Maggy paused, troubled. “There’s a vigilante group called the Greater Good Group, or 3G. They’re made up of guides and some first through fifth gen incarnated angels. Their agenda appears to be to take a more aggressive stance fighting evil or perceived evil among humans. Pedro refuses to talk to me about them, but I don’t think they’re affiliated with the Other Side anymore.”
“I can see that,” Nathan said thoughtfully. “When I first started, there was a time when I thought that the angels were too respectful of free will. Why wait for someone to choose evil, if you know that’s what’s in their hearts? Why not just fix that now?”
“Yeah. I still feel that way sometimes.”
“I do, too. I think, to an extent, we have to be proactive. But I understand now that Pedro and the angels want people to learn for themselves. Life is like sex. It’s about the journey not the destination.”
“I will agree with you there.” Maggy smiled. “I guess what bothers me is that I find the 3G reasoning a little too appealing sometimes, especially when Pedro is being … Pedro.”
“There’s a purpose behind that,” Nathan said. “I will never support a cause that kills other guides. We’re chosen. Our duty is sacred. There’s no excuse for anyone to kill Amira’s guide, especially if they knew that Shadowman was after her.”
“I know. I agree.”
“Which leaves me wondering why they did it. They had to know this was the first time in history that a guide killed another.”
“Well, since Cain and Abel.”
“True. First time in recent history.”
Amira was watching him speak. He eyed her.
She flushed.
“You know why, don’t you?” he asked her. “C’mon, babe. Tell Nate what you’re hiding.”
Amira shook her head then promptly closed her eyes, effectively blocking him off completely from communicating with her.
Nathan laughed, surprised. “I like her.”
Maggy shook her head.
“What’s the plan, Mags?” he asked, picking up his drink and leaning back. “I’m sure you have one. Stopping 3G and Shadowman from chasing Amira? Tracking down Shadowman’s human host? What’s first?”
“Don’t forget Eddy and the satanic cult that’s been tracking my every movement. I’m not sure who or what they’re after,” she added. “You sound like you plan on sticking around. Don’t you work alone?”
“Yeah. But I also help those who need it. Right now, you and Amira need me. I don’t fail and I don’t leave beautiful women hanging,” he replied with a small smile.
He wasn’t expecting to see the tears in Maggy’s eyes. She ducked her head.
“Must be the AC,” she mumbled, wiping her eyes. She held her head in her hands, shoulders sagging in exhaustion.
Nathan sensed her desperation and empathized with her. She’d been alone juggling all this, calling him in only when she’d reached the point where she was overwhelmed. For a woman who had deftly handled everything that ever crossed her path, Maggy was near rock bottom.
He leaned forward to tap Amira’s knee and get her attention.
“Go upstairs,” he said, indicating the stairwell. “Pick a room and get some rest.”
She appeared relieved and rose, treading quietly up the steps.
Nathan waited until she was gone then stretched forward and rested a hand on Maggy’s arm, squeezing.
“I promised you some no-strings-attached naked reiki. We’ll figure out what to do next in the morning,” he said, standing.
Maggy gave a strangled laugh. “I’ve forgotten what the journey feels like.”
“I’ll remind you a few times,” he replied. “C’mon.” He held out his hand.
She took it, and he pulled her up then gave a light push towards the stairs, eyes sweeping over her body. She needed the release and comfort of being curled up naked in his arms, if not the sleep of someone who hadn’t rested in days. He really didn’t mind sacrificing himself to make her feel better.
They had all day Tuesday to plan.