“Where am I headed?”
“1346 Rose Lane.”
Her heart stuttered in her chest and she sucked in a painful breath. “Just under the bridge?”
“Yeah. How did you know?”
Nathaniel was dead and it was all her fault. The mantra kept repeating in her head as she waited for the portal. As she stepped through to the yard of a little blue house surrounded by chaos and a white picket fence. As she shoved her way past techs and agents, ignoring those that called her name.
She stumbled across the threshold and ran into someone. Hands grasped her upper arms, shook, demanded her attention. She looked up to find Jeremiah frowning at her. “What is it? What’s the matter?”
“Where?” she breathed. “Where is he?”
His brow furrowed and his frown deepened. He stepped to the side giving her an unobstructed view of the living room. The air froze in her lungs. Her heart slammed to a stop.She closed her eyes, put her hands on her legs and bent forward. She sucked in a tortured breath. Slowly, she raised her head, forced herself to face the massacre before her. There was no other word to describe it.
A shattered, ragged form hung on the far wall, a fireplace poker shoved through the mangled remains of his face to hold him in place. Nothing recognizable remained. No wonder they hadn’t identified the remains yet. A large patch of semi-congealed blood colored the wall behind him and pooled on the floor. Splatters decorated the furniture. But it wasn’t the body that made it hard to breathe, that made her rub her sternum with her knuckles hoping to ease the ache that had taken up permanent residence.
Foot high letters carved into the plaster covered the wall to the right. “Where’s my Walker?” She read the words aloud. Her. It wanted her. Her lips trembled and a sheen of tears blurred her vision. She pushed Jeremiah aside and tripped out the door. Acid boiled in her stomach and burned her throat as she vomited into the bushes. She kept going until there was nothing but dry heaves.
She stood up and wiped her mouth with the back of a shaking hand.
“Who is it?” Jeremiah asked from behind her.
“Nathaniel.” She turned to him. “It was supposed to be me.”
“Don’t think like that. It could have been anyone.”
She shook her head. “You don’t get it. This was my call. I got him to take it for me so I could go home and crash.”
“So this was a trap?” His voice was cold, hard.
It took her a minute to understand what he was saying. Her eyes widened.
“Who told you to come here? Who sent you?”
“I did.” Ben’s voice breaking into their conversation made her jump. “But the woman asked for her.”
“You didn’t tell me that.” She furrowed her brow. “You made it sound like I was doing you a favor.”
He looked pale, uncomfortable. “She didn’t ask for you by name. She asked for a Walker. ‘Maybe that one that saved the mayor last year,’ she said.” He shrugged. “And since you weren’t doing anything, I figured why not.”
She ran a hand across her forehead. She’d managed to keep the mayor from being devoured by a succubus he picked up at a sex club on New Year’s Eve. It got her more publicity than she wanted and the scandal got the mayor fired.
“Did you trace the call?” Jeremiah asked.
Ben shook his head. “Didn’t realize there was a reason to until right now. I’ll get someone on it.” She watched him walk off with his hands shoved into his pockets.
“You believe him?” Jeremiah spoke close to her ear so only she could hear him.
“I don’t know. I find it hard to believe my boss is working with the demon trying to kill me. I know I’m a pain, but there are simpler ways to get rid of me.”
“Why don’t you go home? We can handle this.”
“I can’t. You know that.” She turned and walked back into the house.
When she walked in the door later that morning, she fell backwards onto the couch and lay still for several long minutes. She’d saved Nathaniel only to have him killed by the demon anyway. The investigation at the house had yielded few clues. According to the neighbors, the couple that owned the house was on their honeymoon and would be for several more days. Bloody handprints on a sofa where the demon sat to observe his work were the only helpful clue in the whole mess. The only advantage they’d gained from her friend’s death was the knowledge that the new host was humanoid.
She rolled off the couch and plodded to the bathroom. She’d taken a scalding shower when she got home the night before but she needed another one. After adjusting the temperature of the water, she climbed in. Closing her eyes, she shoved her head under the water. She held it there, images of Nathaniel flashing through her brain. Salt coated her lips as hot tears combined with the water running down her face. Sobs wracked her body and she sank to the floor. Wrapping her arms around her knees, she leaned her head against the wall.
Finally, her tears dried, her shaking breaths slowed. And she did something she swore she would never do. She dropped the shielding she wore around her mind like a cloak and reached out for her mate. She tried to call Thomas again while she was still at the scene, but he didn’t answer. Hadn’t answered any of her calls since then. And now when she attempted the only form of contact left to her, she found nothing. Just black emptiness where their connection should be.
He had shut her out. Just as completely and thoroughly as she’d been doing to him for years. Damn him. Couldn’t he pick a more convenient time to throw his hissy fit? Anger chased away the fog of grief enough that she could get back on her feet. As she scrubbed her face with her hands, she put her own shields back in place. She turned off the shower. Water sprayed as she shook her head to get rid of the excess. She stepped out into a cloud of steam and dried herself off. Then she ran the towel down the mirror to clean a section. Her eyes were puffy from crying, her face was drawn and pale.
This case was kicking her ass. With a sigh, she dropped the towel on the floor and headed down the hall to get dressed. Soon she wore her normal work wear of dark jeans, a sleeveless top and army boots. Then she raided the weapons.
On her right thigh she strapped a twelve-inch knife, on her left went two sterling silver stakes. Most Walkers carried wood. She preferred silver because they did double duty on vamps and shifters. A stake through the heart wouldn’t kill a vampire, but it would keep most of the younger ones pinned in place for a time. Her gun, badge and sword completed the ensemble. She slid on a pair of regular sunglasses before stepping out of the house and locking the door behind her. She hoped it stayed secure because she wasn’t coming back until she’d hunted this damn thing down and destroyed it.
She called for a portal to take her to where Thomas had found the corpse the day before. The area had been thoroughly swept but maybe she could find something they’d overlooked.
Once again Juliana found herself on the outskirts of the End. If there was anywhere a demon should feel at home, she guessed it would be Devil’s End. She started walking the streets, unsure of where she was heading, but too keyed up to sit around waiting for a lead.
Briefly she thought about knocking on doors as she passed, but it would be a waste of time. For one, the street patrols would have already done it and for another, no one around here saw anything even if it happened a foot from their face. That’s just the way things worked in the End.
The End was her territory. Whenever the Agency needed to send a representative, they sent her. She wasn’t sure if it was because of her proximity or because they thought she blended in with the locals. Unfortunately, the second option seemed most likely. Even as familiar a face as she was in the area, it was unlikely she would get any more information than the patrols had. Especially when it became known a demon was involved. No one wanted to cross a demon.
A couple of blocks down, at the end of a dark alley, stood a nondescript door with a red rune of a double-
