Blue Diablo

Eye of the Storm

On the hangar floor we had a dead cop.

By my side stood a convicted killer with a knife in his hand. Shit, this did not look good. We came out, hands in the air.

The siren cut off with a yelp and Jesse Saldana slid out of his car. “Drop your weapons! Get down!”

While he trained his gun on the three of us, I flattened myself on the ground, as instructed. Chance hesitated only a moment before discarding his rifle. I didn’t think Kel would comply, though. Bullets might not even stop him.

To my surprise, he lay down beside me. Maybe God would get him out of this too. Saldana looked ill as he approached us, both hands on his weapon. He took in the destruction and the smoldering house.

“Stay down. No sudden moves. I called for backup and two more cars are on the way.” His eyes said, How could you? “Moon called me, Corine. He said you were here trying to kill him. I told him he was full of shit, but then I heard gunfire.”

“Jesse, give me a chance to explain—”

“You have the right to remain silent,” he cut in.

“Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand the rights I have just read to you? With these rights in mind, do you wish to speak to me?”

I dropped my forehead onto the backs of my hands, feeling older than my twenty-seven years. The men on either side of me possessed the sense to keep quiet, at least. Jesse radiated steely purpose. This can’t be the same man I kissed last night. His eyes looked cold as he gazed down at us. The fact that Moon was nowhere to be seen didn’t matter. Saldana knew deep down how this battle had played out, and maybe he hadn’t even liked the guy but cops didn’t let people get away with killing their own.

How could he not know, though? The air stank with foul magick, and we were surrounded by corpses. Before, I’d suspected a dirty cop must be behind our trouble in town, but I’d suspected Jesse. I just hadn’t turned my eyes in the right direction.

It might not be too late for Min if we could get moving, put the rest of the pieces together. Of course, a lot depended on the next five minutes. I had to convince Jesse to let us go. Once the other officers arrived on the scene, we were done.

“Moon lured us out here,” I said desperately. “He’s the one who did Maris. Enslaved her. Don’t you get it? The reason he came by last night was to see if he’d successfully breached the wards.” I paused and took a breath, gauging his response.

He looked unsure; he was listening. So I went on, “After he went for me in the cemetery, he didn’t have power to burn, so he needed to make sure his strike would get through. Hassling me was just a bonus. Afterward, he attacked Chuch and Eva in their own home and tried to add them to his collection. He didn’t try anything on their turf and in person for mundane reasons—DNA and forensic evidence could tie him to the scene. Out here, he thought he could control the outcome and then clean up, nobody the wiser.”

“Lies.” But he didn’t sound sure. Maybe empathy helped him discern my sincerity.

“Believe her,” a feminine voice whispered. A cool white mist rolled in, but it felt peaceful, gentle. Maris. “I came to thank you. And now I have.”

In a blink I might have missed it or imagined it, but by Jesse’s expression he’d shared the delusion with me. His hands shook.

“See?” I pushed the advantage. “We helped you, just like you asked. You wanted us to set her free.”

Jesse regarded me for a moment longer. The shadows I’d noticed beneath his eyes the other night seemed twice as dark. I wondered whether he would throw us to the lions, even having heard the truth from Maris.

“Get up,” he bit out. “All of you. It looks like a war went down here. Maybe I can blame it on rival drug cartels. What’s in the outbuildings?”

“Nothing now,” Chance said gravely. “Moon killed the women who comprised his next shipment. I’m sorry we couldn’t save them. We tried.”

Kel spoke for the first time, and I thanked my lucky stars he sounded relatively normal. He shouldn’t have been able to move, bearing those wounds, but Jesse was in no state of mind to notice details. Good thing too or he might ID Ferguson from his mug shot. “We should check inside to see if anybody survived.”

I glanced at Jesse. “Do we have time? You said backup was on the way. I don’t want you to get in trouble for letting us go.”

After checking his watch, Saldana said, “You have about five minutes I’d say. Let’s take a look inside.”

I felt dizzy and sick as we passed by the human detritus, so many corpses, pretty and still. My heart hurt. So many futures cut short and for what? We continued into the warehouse, where Saldana paused at his former partner’s body. He stared down at Nathan Moon with a sick anguish. I didn’t know what to say, so I stood silent. Chance and Kel had split off from us to roll the place.

“I should have sensed it,” Jesse said, low. “I should have, but I didn’t. All I ever got from him was self-satisfaction, annoyance, or impatience. Nothing sinister.”

He was a happy little sociopath. Not your fault. But I didn’t say it aloud; Saldana probably wouldn’t hear me anyway.

Toward the back, behind a partition, we found a woman with a pulse. I didn’t know why she’d been culled from the herd, but it had saved her life. Jesse swung her up in his arms. She seemed delicate as a flower against the tanned warmth of his skin. When he carried her into the sunlight, she opened her eyes and whimpered, shrinking away from us wild-eyed.

“It’s okay. We’re not going to hurt you,” I assured her. “Jesse is a policeman. He’ll get you some help.”

“You’re not taking me to Diego Montoya?”

Montoya. Twila had given Chance that name, Montoya, in exchange for his help, and I’d already guessed we were looking for a Montoya, based on the symbol that linked the grave I’d found in San Antonio and the astral tell Booke saw on Chuch’s house. Well, now we had a first name, which would make it easier to find him.

The girl grasped at Saldana with thin fingers. Her whole body shook, and her eyes rolled in her head as if she were a spooked horse. Her English was awkward. “If take me, they will—” Her voice broke. I heard her teeth chattering. “They told me they get me good job, then I send money to my family. Instead, put me in box, they make me do bed-work. If I don’t, they kill me.” She sobbed out, “Home. I want go home. Take me home.”

He murmured to her in quiet reassurance. Far in the distance, I heard sirens. That was our cue. “We need to go. If you learn anything from her, give me a call.”

Saldana regarded me from dull eyes. I’d broken something in him, or maybe it was simple disillusionment. “All right. I’ll see what I can turn up on this Montoya too.”

Once we patched up a bit and checked in with Chuch, we’d start looking for Diego Montoya. I didn’t care how many guards we had to wade through, or if he had a dozen more pet warlocks. We’re coming, Min. Just hold on.

Nobody said a word as we jogged to the Mustang. We all piled in and pulled onto Halstead Creek Road with a squeal of tires. Maybe a quarter mile down the road, we passed two cop cars, lights blazing. They buzzed past us and continued on to the scene, where once again we’d left Jesse a hell of a mess to clean up.

I didn’t know how he’d explain all the body parts and the disgusting smell, let alone a field full of dismembered women. Maybe the poor girl we saved would add credence to his story. But any cop who walked away from a fight that killed his partner would be in for a rough ride, let alone under these circumstances.

Even if said partner had been a corrupt son of a bitch.

I supposed the outcome depended on who actually owned the property. Christ, I hoped we hadn’t gotten Saldana fired. On the whole I had bigger worries, however. My whole body ached, I hadn’t slept in two days, hadn’t eaten since the cookies last night, and we had a war to wage.

“Are you two okay?” My voice sounded hoarse.

“I’ll live,” Chance answered. “If my head doesn’t explode.”

God’s Hand made no reply.

Putting aside my own aches, I leaned forward, anxious. “Is he...?”

Wouldn’t that be just what we needed? Another dead body. My own head throbbed like a sore tooth.

Chance couldn’t take his eyes off the road long enough to check for a pulse but said, “Doubt it. If he was going to kick off, he’d have done it already.”

I couldn’t help but agree. “Did you find anything in the hangar?”

“I’m not sure. Could be something, could be nothing. We found what looks like a cargo manifest, detailing their ‘pottery’ shipment and where it was supposed to go. It might be a dummy sheet and worthless, but at this point, it’s all we have.”

A few minutes later, we arrived at Chuch’s place. I felt bemused to see Butch standing on his hind legs, peering out the front door. God, I was glad that stupid dog was okay. I slid over and climbed out the driver’s side. Butch barked as I went around the car to check on Kel.

When I bent toward him, his eyes snapped open. Despite myself I stumbled back a step, out of his reach. His eyes just weren’t right.

“We’re here,” I said stupidly.

“Thanks. I’ll be all right in a few minutes.” He made no move to get out of the car, though, so I just left him there. I had enough to worry about.

Chuch met us at the front door, evidently alerted by Butch’s impressive watchdog performance. “Dios,” he said. “Look at you two. I guess you found my stash, huh?” He took in the rifle dangling from Chance’s hand. “Let me put that away for you, primo.” His eyebrows almost shot off his forehead. “Man, this is going to be some story. Why don’t you guys rinse off some of the blood and then tell me what the hell’s been going on?”

That sounded like a great idea. I took a five-minute shower and Chance took his turn next. We all met up in the kitchen, where Eva simmered some bean soup that smelled like heaven. She greeted me with a great big squeeze that hurt my ribs. “You okay, cariño?”

Tears filled my eyes as I hugged her back. I hadn’t realized just how much I cared about her until this moment. “Yeah. I’ll be sore in the morning, but I’m all right.”

Her love hurt, though. Whatever I said, I had about a dozen wounds that needed tending. The bite on my shoulder might fester if it wasn’t treated.

Chuch took a seat at the kitchen table and drummed his fingers on top. “You want to fill me in? Why is there a tattooed dude asleep in the Mustang? Why did you need all that hardware? And where did the creepy Chihuahua come from?”

After pouring us both tall glasses of iced tea, Chance sat down and let me tell the story. Butch whined until I picked him up, and he sat with his chin on the table, overseeing the proceedings. The tale took the better part of an hour, and by the time I finished, both Chuch and Eva regarded us with astonishment.

“You mean those loco dreams were true?” the mechanic asked finally.

With a nod, Chance answered, “More or less. When we destroyed the foci that held you, your souls were free to follow the silver cord back to your physical bodies.”

Chuch ran a hand through his long, dark hair, looking grim. “What about the guy outside? What’s his deal? Did you hire a merc?”

Damn. I’d hoped to avoid discussing Kel.

“Not exactly. He, ah, showed up last night, claiming God sent him to help us rid the world of a great evil.”

Eva gave me a long look. “And you didn’t think he was crazy? Your first impulse was to arm him?”

“Well, it wasn’t my first impulse...” I tried a smile. God knew what she’d say if she found out who he was.

“Wow.” She shook her head. “So you went off with a nut job and you took out the warlock. You didn’t even have Chuch’s good stuff. He has a real cache of weapons hidden better than that. You know, just in case.”

“When you find Montoya, I’m going with you to rescue your mama and take him out,” Chuch said quietly. “You’ll need the extra firepower... and he crossed the line when he let his goon mess with my wife.”

I expected Chance to protest but he simply stared at Chuch for a minute. As if making a judgment based on something he saw that I couldn’t interpret, he simply nodded. “We need some rest. It’s been a tough twenty-four.”

To say the least.

“Eva, can you put your mad investigative skills to tracking down something about this Diego Montoya?” I asked.

She nodded. “I’ll start with the Internet and work from there.”

“Let me make some calls,” Chuch said. “I know some people who might be able to tell us something.” He glanced at Chance. “It may take some bribe money, though, primo. They won’t cross these people for nothing. We got to make it worth their while.”

“How much? I can get my hands on ten grand, maybe. It would take longer to—”

Chuch laughed. “Relax. You could get these guys to kill their own grandmothers for a thousand dollars, let alone talk some shit.”

The clearing of a throat drew our eyes toward the kitchen doorway. Kel stood there under his own power, blood soaked but ambulatory. “May I use the shower?”

I exchanged a glance with Chance. Should we tell them the whole story? He slowly shook his head.

Eva recovered first. “Sure. It’s just down the hall. Towels are in the closet to the right.”

“Let me show you.” Bone tired, I pushed away from the table and led the way to the bathroom after getting him a clean blue towel from the linen closet. “Do you need some help? I can bind up your wounds afterward if you want.”

In answer he pulled his filthy shirt off and presented me a back crisscrossed with scars. Some must be old and puckered the pale skin, but the wounds he’d taken today, just hours ago, showed livid purple. Already healed.

Seeking proof, I reached out and almost touched my fingertips to his skin before remembering who and what he was. I pulled back. “How is this possible?”

“God takes cares of His own,” he told me, and shut the door in my face.

As the water hissed on, I returned to the kitchen in time to hear Eva say, “Well, he’s a weird one. You know he has angel names tattooed all over his head?”

“Yeah, it’s kind of hard to miss,” I said.

Eva fussed over me and then Chance, daubing at us with various medical supplies and antibiotics. My jaw practically cracked on a yawn. The bean soup wouldn’t be done for hours, and I wanted sleep.

“Get some rest,” Chuch ordered. “We’ll do some of the legwork this afternoon. I hope we’ll be ready to pay some personal calls tonight.”

That reminded me: I needed to get in touch with Booke. It was a testament to his self-control that the phone wasn’t ringing off the hook.

“Thanks.” As he stood, Chance swayed and had to catch himself on the back of his chair. “Come on, Corine. Let’s take a nap.”

Well, he looked too busted to try anything, not that I felt inclined to argue over sharing a bed with anyone right now. I remembered how he had taxed his luck, blood pouring out his nose.

“In a minute,” I said, heading for the office.

Chance followed me, looking puzzled. He got it when I sat down at the computer and went looking for Chuch’s IM icon. “Glad you remembered, much as he helped us.”

I nodded as I typed with my awesome hunt-and-peck skill. Booke? This is Corine. We’re fine. We got the warlock.

His immediate response made me think he’d been sitting by the computer all this time. Did you save the prisoners?

The question hit me like a fist in the chest, and I had to take a minute before I could answer. God, it hurt to think of girls we didn’t save.

No. I think the hangar was booby-trapped somehow.

After reading over my shoulder, Chance curled his palm around the nape of my neck, soothing me. I remembered how he used to do that, first delving beneath my hair with an impossibly delicate touch. Shivers stole over me.

Long pause on Booke’s end as he processed our failure. I’m sorry. But thank you for letting me know you’re all right.

No problem, I typed. The place burned down, so we don’t have anything to send for your collection. I’m sorry.

We were a sorry lot, weren’t we?

I didn’t say yes for the possible reward, he returned eventually. This is the first time anyone’s ever asked for my help, the first time I didn’t feel like an incompetent, ineffectual fool. Thank you for that.

Wow. I had no idea what to say. So Chance leaned forward and keyed, Welcome. We’ll keep you posted, but now I need sleep.

It was less personal than what I might’ve said if Chance hadn’t been there, given that I’d shared dream space with Booke. There was such an aching loneliness about him. The Englishman took it as a farewell, however, and signed off. I let it go, standing with a tired sigh.

“What’s his deal?” I wondered aloud as we headed for the spare room.

Chance shrugged. “One problem at a time, Corine.”

There would never be a better time to indulge my curiosity about something else. As we stepped into the bedroom together, I asked softly, “What were you focused on, back at the compound?”

Silence answered me, so I lay down, too tired to pursue the matter. Just before I drifted off, I wondered whether I imagined his whisper:

“You making it out of there, no matter what.”