Claimed (14 page)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

T
here was a jittery feeling in Dec’s chest as he led Galena down the sidewalk, his arm around her waist. He didn’t know how to get over the stab of terror h
e’d
felt as h
e’d
watched her disappear into the real world with a Shade hard on her heels. He only knew everything else went away in that moment, destroyed by his need to get to her.

And now she was bleeding and torn, and Dec knew it could have been a lot worse, and suspected that it had been
meant
to be a lot worse. But he would investigate that theory later. Right now, he had to make sure she didn’t succumb to sepsis—Shade bites were fucking nasty.

“I guess we can’t use our Scopes to get back?” she asked quietly.

“We can,” he said, “but the Shades would still be right there, and I don’t know about you, but I’ve had enough of them for one night.”

“So where are we going?”

If h
e’d
thought to put his phone in his pocket, h
e’d
be calling a car for them. But he didn’t have a phone—or any money, for that matter, so even public transportation was out of the question. Besides, the two of them were barefoot. They looked like vagrants. Vagrants who had been attacked by other vagrants. “We just need to get into a building. Shades always stay outside. So it’ll be a safe zone, and we’ll have enough time to get into the Veil and open an intra-Veil portal to my apartment.”

She leaned her head on his shoulder. “Please tell me those Shade things don’t show up every time you enter the Veil.”

He touched her hair, damp with sweat in the humid night air. Her blood was smearing on his already ruined shirt. “You always have to watch out for them. But I’ve never seen such a large gathering. There had to be at least thirty out there tonight.” He didn’t want to tell Galena what he suspected—that Luke had intentionally lured her there. Not yet, anyway, because he didn’t want to scare her more than was necessary.

“I can’t believe Jian was one of them,” she whispered.

“Do you have any idea why Jian would have planted those bombs?” Dec understood the stabbings—whichever Ker was responsible had killed the victims himself. But what did that have to do with Jian? How had he been involved?

“Jian seemed so off that night you came to my lab.” Galena shook her head. “I guess h
e’d
been quieter for the past week or two, but he was still doing his work. Honestly, it doesn’t make sense to me.”

“You guys are under a lot of pressure, right? Maybe he just cracked?”

“I guess. But Jian was proud of his work. And h
e’d
just gotten married a few months ago. I know he loved his wife. They were planning their future together. What would have led him to such a desperate place?”

“Somehow, a rogue Ker must have gotten to him. Maybe threatened him. And told him you needed to die. The Ker couldn’t get to you directly because you were guarded in the Veil by other Kere, but Jian was the loophole. An ordinary human with access to the lab and the skill to destroy it.”

“But why bomb all those other places? Why kill Ankita and the volunteers? It just seems s
o . . .
elaborate
. Especially since the other victims were killed in a completely different way.”

“The rogue Ker would have Marked all of them, though,” said Dec. “It looks like he wanted to inflict as much damage as possible, destroying almost everyone linked to your research. I just wish I knew how he did it without Moros knowing.”

Galena touched her Scope. “What will happen to Jian?”

“He’ll stay in the Veil as a Shade unless a Ferry tracks him down and guides his soul.” Dec bit the inside of his cheek. “Usually, the only people who run from Ferrys in the Veil are the ones destined to go to Hell. They either know that’s where they’re headed or they run when they see the portal opening.”

Galena sniffled. “It’s hard to think of him going to Hell, even now. I thought he was a good man.”

“Sometimes a Heaven-bound soul runs from a Ferry because it’s really scared and disoriented, and occasionally I’ve come across souls that were just determined to get back to the real world because they were convinced they weren’t finished.”

“Jian did seem pretty determined to get back here.”

“Most Shades are, though. It’s like a compulsion. That’s why they’re always after our Scopes.”

Galena nodded absently. “I wish he could have told us what happened. If a Ker made him do it to stop my research, why was he so angry at
me
?”

“Like I said—Shades are rabid. Irrational rage is kind of their MO.” He pointed at an all-hours convenience store a block ahead. “There’s our ticket home.”

He nodded at the stocky security guard as they approached the barred storefront. The guy, maybe thirty, with a buzz cut and a dent on the bridge of his squarish nose, scowled. “Customers only.”

“I don’t know if I’m a customer yet,” said Dec, smiling. “I haven’t seen what’s on sale.”

He moved to enter the store, but the guard swished his arm to the side and extended his electroshock baton. Galena let out a strangled whimper. Dec pushed her behind him and continued to smile. “We don’t want any trouble.”

“Then get away from here,” said the guard, clutching his baton tightly.

Dec met the guy’s eyes and did something h
e’d
promised himself he would never, ever do. He pointed to the Scope at his neck. “My name is Declan Ferry,” he said. “And I want you to let us into the store.”

“Ferry?” the guard said, blinking at the Scope. Everyone in the greater Boston area knew the raven symbol—Psychopomps had fingers in every pie from Boston to the canals of New York City. Then his eyes narrowed. “How do I know you didn’t steal that from one of them?”

“Do you really want to take that risk?” said Dec, forcing his voice smooth and even. He hated using his family name like that. As if it made him special. But Galena had lost a lot of blood. Sh
e’d
been through hours on the Marking table, hadn’t slept sinc
e . . .
damn, not even last night. It made it possible to say, “
I’d
be personally
grateful
if yo
u’d
let us use your bathroom.”

The guard looked skeptical, eyeing Dec’s torn, bloody shirt.

Dec leaned forward. “What’s your name?”

The guard took a half step back, still brandishing his baton. “Sanders.”

“Sanders, you have a phone on you?”

The guy glowered. “I’m not letting you use my phone.”

“Take ten seconds and look me up. Then decide if you want to let me in.”

Sanders pulled his phone from his pocket and thumbed in Dec’s name. His eyes went wide. “You’re the son of—”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re the CEO’s—”

“Yeah.”

The guard squinted at a picture of Dec and Aislin that had been taken at a charity event a few months ago. “Hey, didn’t I see you on the news that one time when—?”

“
Probably.
Hey. Sanders. My companion and I really need to get cleaned up. Can we come in already?”

The guard looked down at the electroshock baton in his hand, then pressed it to his leg like he was trying to hide it. “Of course, Mr. Ferry. But are you hurt? Were you attacked? You need the police? I can call them for you, no problem. I’ve got a cousin on the force. H
e’d
be happy to help.”

Dec clenched his teeth.
Now
the guard was the picture of compassion. “No. We need a few enzymatic cloths and some privacy. Restroom?”

“Right back there, Mr. Ferry,” the guard said eagerly. “Go right ahead.” He inclined his head at Galena. “Ma’am.”

Dec pulled Galena along the aisle of the cluttered convenience store. The woman behind the counter, who had a bolt gun slung across her back, gave them a suspicious look, but then the guard scrambled in and began to whisper in her ear.

“Fuck,” whispered Dec. He had drawn way too much attention to himself. If h
e’d
been alone, he would have risked the Shades and gone back through his Scope right in the middle of the street, or he would have walked as far as he could have to try to get a clear spot. But with Galena here and sagging against him, he had no other choice. He guided her into the cramped bathroom, its waterless toilet giving off pungent fumes that made Dec’s stomach roil.

“No enzymatic cloths,” Galena said with a weak chuckle as she glanced over at the empty dispenser sitting on the rotted boards that had been laid over the old sink.

“Well, I wasn’t really intending for us to spend the night hanging out in here.”

Galena pressed her nose into his shoulder as Dec pulled his Scope from its setting and hurriedly opened it. Just as he did, there was a knock on the door and a woman’s voice called out, “Mr. Ferry! I have cloths for you! They’re the best brand I got.”

Dec closed his eyes and prayed for patience. With Galena clutched to his chest, he opened the door a crack and stuck his hand out. The lady shoved a package of Chemiclean cloths into his palm. “Thank you, Ms
. . . .
”

“Walsom. Sharon Walsom. Honored to have you in my establishment, and if you need any—”

“Sharon, we’re all set. Thanks.” Dec closed the door again.

“Won’t they notice we’ve disappeared?” Galena mumbled against his shirt.

“No way around it,” Dec said in a tight voice. Her face was so pale, and her skin was clammy. She looked like she was about to faint. And that made him willing to deal with whatever fallout came his way. He opened the Scope and lowered it around them. With Galena still leaning against him, he closed the ring and flipped the pendant so the raven was facing up again, then concentrated on his apartment—specifically on his med kit, which was tucked away in one of his cabinets. He was already cataloging which supplies h
e’d
need. He opened the Scope and sighed with relief when he saw his own living room. “Here we go.”

He lowered the Scope, and the familiar smell of his apartment washed over him. With his arm around Galena, he closed the Scope and fixed it to its setting again, then guided her to his couch. She sank onto it. “I could really use another shower,” she muttered.

“Later. Right now you need to keep your promise to let me work on you.”

She closed her eyes and nodded, pulling her knees to her chest. Dec strode to his kitchen and took his med kit from the cabinet. He headed back to the living room and set the kit down on the end table. Galena had a swollen spot on her cheek and scratches on her neck where the Shade had clawed for her Scope. But the worst wound by far was the bite to her shoulder. The motherfucker had sunk its teeth into the pale skin just above her clavicle. “Hey,” he said softly. “You want something for the pain?”

“I’m all right, Dec,” she said, her green eyes opening and her gaze resting on him in a way he felt deep in his chest. “Do your thing.”

He stared down at her shirt. And then he got up and went into the bathroom, grabbed a towel, and returned. “I need to get to the wound,” he said. “So we’re going to have to take your shirt off.” He held up the towel. “But I’ve got you covered. O
r . . .
I will.”

Her lip curled into the sweetest half smile, and her eyes met his again. She paused, her fingers fiddling with the hem of her shirt. Like she was trying to decide if she was ready for this. He wished he could read her mind. He let the towel unfurl, forming a curtain between them. On the other side, he heard the soft whisper of fabric against her skin, and he shut his eyes tight, focusing on the job ahead.

“Can I keep my bra on?” she asked quietly.

“If you need to. But I have to clean the area, and it might get—”

“It’s okay,” she murmured. “I’ll take it off.”

A moment later, her bloody shirt and a delicate lacy bra fell to the floor beside the couch. Dec lowered the towel over Galena’s chest, leaving the area around the wound bare. She kept her face turned away.

Dec knew her pained expression and her fear of hospitals must have to do with the attack and what had happened after. Hospitals were cold, bleak places, not nearly comforting enough for someone wh
o’d
just lost so much. Dec had transported a few women who had been attacked in the streets, had held their hands and promised them h
e’d
get them somewhere safe. But as h
e’d
delivered them into the emergency department, where the
y’d
be laid out under bright lights and probed by gloved fingers wielding cold metal instruments, Dec couldn’t help but wonder if he should never have made those promises in the first place.

H
e’d
do better for Galena tonight. “I’m going to wash my hands and get on my gloves, and then I’m going to clean this.”

When she nodded, he went into the kitchen and scrubbed his hands, then donned his gloves. He grabbed a bottle of sterilizing fluid and gently pulled at her wounds, making sure the liquid got all the way into the places penetrated by the Shade’s rotting teeth. Galena kept her fingers balled around the bottom edge of the towel. Her face was white with pain, and little beads of sweat stood out, stark on her brow. Dec tore his gaze from her tightly closed eyes and looked at the wound. “Lights level nine,” he said, and the overhead bulbs brightened, illuminating the bruising around the bite marks.

Once h
e’d
gotten the wound clean to his satisfaction, he set the sterilizing fluid down. “I’m going to use vascular glue to close these. It won’t take long to seal up.”

“Thanks for being gentle,” she said in this small, quiet voice.

“That’s usually what people in pain need, isn’t it?” He always softened his tone when approaching a patient, knowing that a comforting presence was as important as solid medical care.

“Doesn’t mean they get it.”

“They do from me,” he murmured, reaching for the glue. “Now, stay really still, okay? This might tickle.”

Her tiny, amused snort made him smile. He carefully applied the glue and pressed Galena’s wounds closed. She was lucky the edges were even and not terribly deep. It took no more than ten minutes to have all of them closed. When he was done, he loaded an injector pen with an antibiotic and nudged her leg. “I have to shoot this into your hip. The last thing you need is a blood infection.”