Chapter Forty

“I’m Magestra. It might not work on me.” Farren seated himself on the couch in the safe house’s living room. This was a test Leary and other humans didn’t need to know about—at least not yet.

“I’ll do it.” Jessalain slunk into the room, wearing skinny jeans and a T-shirt most likely loaned by Arianna since the jeans didn’t look like they were meant to be capris and the cotton strained over Jessa’s breasts. She sat next to Farren on the couch. “What do I have to do?” Jessa. Always eager, but possibly not the best choice. Her connection to Asher left her compromised.

Farren voiced his concerns. “How do we know Asher won’t summon you and demand to know our plans?” Given their history, it would be nice to trust Jessa, but Asher still held her leash.

Jessa curled her lip. “I’d never willingly answer the call, let me assure you.”

“But he’s got a hold on you.”

“I’ve felt Asher a few times since we got here, but the pull isn’t strong. I can resist. The more travelers he tries to control, the weaker his connection to me, but I don’t think he’s realized yet since I know when to play along. Right now, he’d have to be pretty darn close to compel me to his will.” She turned soulful eyes on Morrisey. “Please? I want to help.”

Farren eyed Morrisey. “Can you block him?”

“I can try. But how can I test the theory?” Morrisey met Farren’s gaze, conveying your call with a half-shrug and raised eyebrow. He waved a hand in a carry-on gesture. If he thought this might be a bad idea, he’d say so.

This environment was about as controlled as they got. If Asher tried to commandeer Jessa, better to know now when they stood a chance of fighting. Farren gave Jessa a quick once over. “We need you to attempt your powers on a traveler.”

She threw back her head, emitting a throaty laugh. “I’m afraid you’ll need another volunteer. You two would only hurt my feelings.”

“I didn’t mean one of us.”

“Good, because we’d all just be wasting our time.”

Who else might be around? Oh, yeah. “Sykes!” Farren called.

Sykes strolled into the living room, wearing blue jeans and a gray hoodie. His feet were bare and he munched on the burrito that had been smelling up the whole lower floor. His dark waves swept back from a face made to grace magazine covers. If Farren didn’t know better, he’d swear Sykes was Jessa’s male counterpart.

Sykes scarfed down the last of the burrito, licked his fingers, then stood a few feet from the couch, one hand rammed into his pocket. “What you need?”

“Jessa is going to attempt her powers on you. Morrisey will try to block her.”

Sykes took a healthy swig of the beer he pulled from his hoodie pocket. “Give it your best shot, darlin’.”

Jessa pulled her lips back in a sultry smile and sauntered across the floor in a smooth glide. Intent gaze locked with Sykes’s, she walked her fingers up his chest in a move likely to bring many men to their knees.

Farren divided his attention between Jessa and Morrisey. Morrisey stood by the fireplace, face devoid of emotion. The lust in the room rose, coming from Sykes.

The energy abruptly cut off. “Hey!” Jessa exclaimed. “That felt like a slap.”

Sykes grinned. “Oh! Fun! Can we try again?”

“Yes,” Morrisey said. “We have to make sure I can do this at will.”

Jessa and Sykes went through the motions again and again. Each time, Morrisey nullified Jessa’s influence.

“Cock blocker,” she growled in mock anger.

“One more time,” Morrisey insisted. “If I ever have to block someone, I need to know I can.”

Sykes pressed a hand to his chest, pouring on the drama. “If I must. You know it’s so off-putting having a beautiful woman try to seduce me, but what the hell? I’ll take one for the team.”

This time, no lust came from Sykes nor frustration from Jessa. Nothing from Morrisey either. In fact, Farren couldn’t feel anyone in the house. Oh, fuck! What happened? For the first time in his life, in either realm, he was totally alone, disconnected from all others. “What are you doing?” Make it stop!

Morrisey gave Farren a sly side-eye. “This time, instead of blocking them, I blocked you.”

Farren’s heart thundered in his ears. “Please, never do that again.”

A weight lifted from Farren’s shoulders.

Morrisey managed, through trial and error, to shield the entire house from outside detection. No travelers outside could sense anyone inside. A few additional touches by Colm, and humans who noticed the house would feel repulsed and immediately turn away. Travelers might be curious, but even they wouldn’t sense the deception unless they were part of its creation.

All human mates and children were left with a few traveler guards for protection once Morrisey deemed the house safe.

Morrisey, Farren, Sykes, Colm, and Jessa drove in Sykes’s SUV to the FBI offices, careful not to strain Morrisey’s newfound teleportation skills while he also worked to maintain security at the safe house.

Taking Jessa posed a risk if Morrisey couldn’t block Asher’s efforts to control her while working on a way to sever the bond completely. Still, Morrisey insisted she come.

With Leary no longer taking their calls, time to visit in person.

No guard manned the gate. In fact, the gate stood open. Few cars sat in the parking lot. The place gave off a definite ghost town ambiance. Where were all the other FBI agents who worked in the building?

Oh, right. Protocol. What excuse did they use this time? A bomb threat?

Hackles up, weapons in hand, Farren strode toward the front door and the glass entry booth, the others following in his wake. No guard waited to buzz them in.

“Come with me.” He led the group around the building to the back. The rear door sported a card reader. Neither Morrisey, Farren, nor Sykes’s badges activated the locking mechanisms.

“Give me a moment.” Sykes kneeled, putting himself eye-to-eye with the reader. He caressed the device like a lover.

“Stop, Sykes. You’re turning me on,” Jessa purred.

Sykes grinned. “Glad to return the favor.” With a distinct click, the lock popped open. He held the door open for all to enter.

Farren and Morrisey took point, with Sykes bringing up the rear. Colm’s knowledge might be helpful at some point, as might Jessa’s wiles, but they were also the weakest links, weapons-wise. For now, they remained in a protected position.

Low lights illuminated the baseboards. “Emergency lighting,” Sykes muttered. “Which means the elevators aren’t working. Where do you think the asshole might be, if he’s here at all?”

“He’s below us.” Jessa balled her hands into fists. “I can feel him.”

“He’s not alone,” Colm added.

No, he wasn’t. Multiple travelers of varying degrees of humanity waited below. Though Farren hadn’t met Asher yet, the sickly black of his aura permeated the air. While Morrisey was born Tenebris, Asher inflicted darkness on himself.

“I don’t know how he got in or who his guide might be, but hopefully, they don’t know about the stairs we’re about to take. Sykes found them while running computer cables back in the day. They didn’t look to have been used in the past few decades.”

Morrisey furrowed his brow. “You kept this from Leary.”

Again, Farren exchanged a look with Sykes. “We kept a lot from him. We’re not disloyal, but some information should be on a need-to-know basis.”

“And none of the humans have knowledge of this? What about old diagrams? Blueprints?”

“As the sublevels were originally built as an emergency bunker, the plans are classified.” Farren grinned. “And you’ve never met a computer hacker with the skills of Sykes.”

Sykes grinned. “It’s a gift. Literally. Now, come on. I think they’re waiting.” He led them down a long hallway to a door labeled “Storage,” which in itself was odd since most doors here didn’t have signs. He opened the door on metal racks, lined up wall to wall in the roughly ten-foot by ten-foot space, and grabbed flashlights off a shelf. From another, he doled out tasers.

Morrisey explained their use to Colm and Jessa while Farren helped Sykes move a section of the floor and shine a light into the darkness beneath. Sykes hit a wall switch, activating emergency lighting in the shaft. Dust motes caught the light.

Jessa coughed.

Farren had used this route a time or two, mostly to familiarize himself in case the need ever arose. “Sykes, you go first. I’ll bring up the rear.”

“Aye-aye, mi capitan.” Sykes lowered himself into the hole, boots clanging on ladder rungs.

Farren sized up the remaining team. “Morrisey, you go next, then Jessa, Colm, and me. We’re going down six floors, so if you tire or have problems, I need to know immediately.”

“I gotta put you away for a while, Agnes, but don’t worry, I’ll be back.” Morrisey returned his gun to his shoulder holster—the guy named his gun?—secured the taser in one hand, and descended into the hole.

Jessa grinned. “Even if he surrenders, can I use the taser on Asher, just for shits and giggles?“

Farren placed a hand on her slender shoulder. Despite her bravado, fear lurked beneath the surface. “I’ll help you. But remember, you’re here primarily because the hold he has on you works both ways. You’re our Asher tracker, but Morrisey is blocking Asher from tracking you.” At least, Farren hoped so. No. Not hoped. He trusted Morrisey.

“I knew I liked you.” Jessa wriggled into the hole, her movements seductive even when she might not intend them to be.

Colm met Farren’s gaze, gave a thumbs up, and descended, leaving only Farren in the storage room. He sat on the floor, dangling his legs into the hole, then pulled the rack as far as he could to hide the entrance.

He placed his gun into his side holster and his flashlight into his back pocket and began the long, downward climb with his taser clutched in one hand, using his other hand to climb. No one spoke on the ladder, though their footsteps echoed on the rungs. Farren counted down the steps. Down one floor, down two floors…

At last, he reached the others, stepping off the ladder. Flashlights in hand, they followed Sykes into the darkness. Morrisey went next

Farren followed. After ten years of relying on human senses, it took a moment to identify the tingling sensation coursing through his nerves, a warning system he’d once relied on.

Ill intent oozed from the ether in abundance, clawing, choking its way into every fiber of Farren’s being. He’d been born to combat such things; generations of his family had been born to combat them.

A traveler actively sought to harm others. In the past, he’d have sent out a soundless signal to his fellow Magestra, calling for backup. There were no other Magestra here, or rather, none he might rely on. Some of the surrounding unseen travelers had broken years of protocol to align themselves with a monster called Asher.

Farren drew close to Sykes. “Do you know where they are?”

Sykes’s face appeared grim in the illumination of handheld flashlights. “Most are in the main conference room.”

“And the rest?”

“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” came from behind him. Farren whirled, coming face to face with an image he’d seen on television many times. Salt and pepper hair, chiseled jaw, blue eyes many a journalist waxed poetic about.

The vice-president of the United States. “About time you got here.” He smirked, an expression the normally benevolent grandfather figure never wore on camera for the American public while on the evening news. Corruption tainted his aura an oily black.

Traveler corruption.

The lights flicked on. Roughly thirty travelers surrounded Farren’s group, guns trained on Farren, Morrisey, Jessa, and Colm. How the hell had he not sensed them? As if on cue, the scent of herbs swept over him, more powerful than at any other time since he left Domus.

And where was Sykes?

Sykes stepped out from behind a wall of travelers, gun in hand. He shrugged. “Sorry, Farren. They made a better offer.” He swung the gun down.