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Authors: Angie Fox

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Marc nodded. “We were conscripted at the same time. Last winter, he called on me to help him develop a new medicine. Supposedly.” He frowned. “Research and Development is overseeing it.”

“Interesting.” The gods tended to shun new technology, thinking the old ways superior. Any new medicines were usually the result of little labs like mine.

The light played off Marc’s face. “We were only given one part of the project. That alone is unusual. But there’s also something off in the chemical structure. I don’t think it is what they say it is. It could be dangerous.”

“This is war,” I reminded him. Hell, I’d already blown up my lab once trying to come up with a simple anesthetic that worked on immortals.

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Believe me, nobody’s ever seen anything like this. I covered for Keller while he ran some special experiments,” he said, his tone grim. “Off the books.”

“That sounds like Keller.” And Marc.

“Until the night I was on call in the OR. He stayed in the lab. He was on the verge of a big breakthrough. I hadn’t seen him that excited in months.” He paused, his lips pressed together. “Then he disappeared.”

My stomach twisted. I’d heard about how people disappeared in the old army. “Maybe he was transferred,” I said. It could happen.

Marc shook his head. “We both know that’s not true.” He drew in a breath. “Now there’s a ghost in the lab. It’s destroying everything and I don’t know why.”

My heart squeezed a little. “You think it’s him.”

He gave a long sigh. “No one has been able to get close, but I’m pretty sure it’s Dr. Keller.”

Marc was the only other person besides Galen who knew my secret. And while Galen sacrificed to hide me, “You want to expose me.”

“No,” he said hard, unrepentant. “I only want you to talk to my ghost.”

“To a murdered soul,” I whispered under my breath.

“I’ll stand with you,” he said. “I’ll do anything you need to keep you safe.”

But he wouldn’t see what I saw. The souls couldn’t touch him.

Murdered dead were traumatized by the sins of their killers. They were unpredictable, angry. If they moved on, they could be restored. Until then, they were dark. Their rage gave them wild and unpredictable powers.

“I told you about the spirit of the murdered girl in Laveal Swamp,” I said. I’d steered my boat out to her. She’d dived straight for me, burrowing into my skin, greedy to get inside me. For a brief moment, she’d possessed me.

I’d blacked out, lost myself, and felt only the sheer, startling pain of her black soul crushing me.

Murdered souls were mindless, vicious. They wanted to live again and would do anything to find an easy host—me.

“I know what I’m asking,” Marc said, his words low and unapologetic. “I’ve thought long and hard about this. You’re not a teenager anymore. And I wouldn’t ask this if it weren’t important.” He fixed his gaze on me. “Can you talk to him?”

My mouth went dry.

It was very likely that Keller had been slaughtered just so he couldn’t talk.

I drew a hand over my eyes. It might be too late anyway. “How long has he been gone?”

“Two nights ago,” Marc said, regret coloring his words.

Damn it. There was a good chance he’d be around. Sprits often lingered where they died, especially in the cases of violent death.

“In your lab. In an enemy camp.” I said, trying to wrap my head around it.

He looked at me steadily, willing me to say yes. “I can get you in.”

It was nuts. “I’m not even sure how you got out.”

“Look here,” he said, drawing a small military map out of his back pocket. He unfolded it over his leg. “The armies are dug in at the edge of the fourth quadrant, both in a U-shaped pattern.”

He traced a blunt finger over the sandy beige topographic map. In red, he’d scrawled the long front lines of the armies, with their backup forces pulled in on either side.

“How am I supposed to get around that?” That much power in one place could literally make the battlefield vibrate. The energy on the ground would be astronomical. It would fry me in a second.

Marc glanced up. “I’ve got a person working on it.”

I studied him. “Do you really think I’m crazy enough to go with you?” Even I had my limits.

A dull suspicion spiraled in the pit of my stomach. “Wait. Are you trying to use this to somehow try and reunite?” Because it wouldn’t work. “I can’t handle that.” I was done getting yanked around.

He didn’t budge, but his eyes betrayed the depth of his hurt. “I’ve known about you for weeks.”

“Oh,” I said, stung. He certainly hadn’t rushed to my side.

Guilt flashed across his features. “PNN.”

The hoarders. Great.

He looked me square in the eye. “I’m not going to lie to you.”

I nodded, not sure if I appreciated that or not. There’s nothing like knowing your ex truly didn’t miss you.

Stamping down the hurt, I offered a tremulous smile. This wasn’t about love or loss. The practical, bold, take-no-prisoners Marc hadn’t been hell-bent to see me. He was risking his skin in order to talk to our dead ex-professor. And this really was about a reckless field trip to an enemy camp.

I pushed back a layer of hair that had fallen over my eyes. “I don’t even know how I’d get there.” He could shift and fly, but I was stuck on the ground, within the strict confines of camp.

We kept our borders protected for a reason. Imps roamed the limbo landscape. And if they didn’t get you, you were just as likely to be swallowed by a bottomless sinkhole or attacked by a rogue demon.

Not to mention what had happened to Galen when he went AWOL.

Still, I couldn’t help but think about the prophecy, about the new weapon.

Marc’s eyes searched mine. “I know it’s too much, but do this for me. With me.”

Even though I don’t want you.

Merde.
Was he trying to shove a knife in my chest?

Or make me want to shove one into his?

He stood before me, ready to lead the charge, damn the consequences. It was as if he could change things through sheer force of will. I drew a hand over my eyes. “You’re certifiable.”

He seemed to take that as a compliment. “And you’re stronger than you think.”

I sighed, torn. “I don’t know how to do this.”

“It has to be under the cover of night.” He glanced out of the tent. “I came in by the priest’s hutch, but that’s too dangerous now with the patrols out.”

“Don’t tell me you were going to rope Father McArio into this.” The realization dawned on me. “You already did.” That’s why the padre drew the patrol away. That’s why he was wandering around the minefield.

Father McArio was sixty-five if he was a day. He should have retired. Instead, he’d volunteered for an assignment in limbo, a life sentence. He was my mentor and my friend and as far as I was concerned, he took too many risks already.

He was going to get himself killed one of these days, but I sure didn’t want it to be because he was helping me.

Marc cast me a rueful look. “I met Father McArio while scouting the camp. Hell of a nice guy. Before I knew it, I was telling him who I was.”

Father had a way of making people do that.

“He delivered the note to your door. He told me where we should meet.”

I groaned out loud. They were two peas in a pod. The old Jesuit never could leave well enough alone, but this was too big—even for him. I shot him a look. “No more talking to Father McArio.”

“You’re right,” he said, completely nonplussed. “It’s a risk to both of us at this point.” He thought for a moment. “When I was flying in, I saw a maze of gas tanks at the rear of the helipad. Go there. I’ll leave you transportation. I’ll get you one of our uniforms, as well.”

As if all we needed was a jeep and a new plan. “You’re asking me to go AWOL.” To hide out in an enemy camp. To seek out a murdered soul. To spy on a top-secret project.”

He stood tall, unapologetic. “I am.”

“You’re not worried about me?” Galen would never let me take this kind of a risk.

“You’re not a kid anymore,” Mark said. “You’re a strong, smart woman. I need you on my side.”

He didn’t say it, but I knew. He wanted me as an equal.

I glanced up at him. “You think it’s that important?”

“I know it is,” he said with utter conviction. No sugarcoating it, no backing down. He was a soldier, the same as if he carried a sword into battle.

“Then I’ll do it.” I’d been in the clinic for two weeks straight. I could take a few days off. “Give me a few hours to pack. I’ll be at the helipad when the suns set.”

 

chapter four

I’d left Marc with a handshake, as if we were passing acquaintances or business associates who’d met for a chat over coffee.

This was so screwed up. I didn’t know what to think or feel, much less what to do around that man. But I’d wanted to touch him again, so I did. In the lamest way possible.

It was an uncomfortable end to a gut-wrenching meeting. I could hardly believe he was alive, or that I’d agreed to help him.

I made my way down the busy walkways of our small tent city, one hand stuffed in my pocket, holding the note he’d left on my door, running my fingers over the paper as if I needed to make sure it had even happened.

A group of nurses passed me going the other way and I nodded to them, or at least I thought about it. I glanced back at the rise that led to the minefield. I just hoped Marc gotten out before that patrol came back around.

He’d asked the impossible. I had every right to be pissed off at him for that. I was.

But like a fool, I’d taken him up on it. It was a terrible risk, one I’d never planned to take.

Aside from the demonic creatures that would delight in eating me whole, there were hell vents, bottomless sand traps, not to mention the stark dry desert itself. That was before I got to the Great Divide.

Immortal armies built up incredible amounts of energy. It was a side effect of the enormous power of these demi-gods. It could melt engines, jam guns, short out modern weapons systems. Colonel Kosta told me once that walking the front lines could actually make an immortal’s hair stand on end. Which was pretty funny at the time because Kosta was stone-cold bald.

The current wouldn’t be as powerful with the armies standing down, but it’s not like I could skip through the middle of the Great Divide. Marc was a silver dragon. He’d shifted and flown. I’d have to find another way.

When I got back to the tent, my werewolf roommate’s bags were stacked outside, along with half a dozen crates of
Star Trek
figurines.

“Really, Rodger?” I said, opening the flimsy wooden door and banging inside. “You could have brought back Girl Scout cookies. New sheets, pillows, blankets. Instead we have plastic Captain Picards.”

My auburn-haired, barrel-chested roommate turned from his suitcase on the back cot. “They’re called action figures,” he said, as if I were the one being ridiculous. He gave me a half hug and a clap on the back. “Besides, you should know by now that I only collect classic
Star Trek.

“Of course. Nothing but the best.” They all looked the same to me.

“These are really valuable down here,” he insisted.

Right. “I didn’t think I’d see you for another two days.”

He shrugged. “They offered me a deal. Come back early and take four days at Christmas.”

I had to grin. “No kidding. Christmas with the family.”

“It’s a dream come true,” he said, returning to his unpacking.

I hoped Rodger had made them specify which Christmas. Unlike the gods, we didn’t live forever. But if he hadn’t thought of that, telling him now would only depress him.

“Dang you’ve gotten tan,” I told him—or at least more red. Rodger’s fair skin didn’t do well in the sun. His hair was wilder than ever, approaching Einstein proportions. It seemed he hadn’t had time for a stop at the barbershop. “Did they say why they wanted you back?” I asked, taking a seat on Marius’s footlocker. My roommates occupied the two cots on the far wall, overlooking the tar pits. “We still have a cease-fire.” As of this morning anyway.

He shoveled a stack of sweaters into the dresser next to his bed. Mary Ann sure liked to knit. “Something’s going down.”

That’s what I was afraid of. “Did they say what?”

“Of course not.” He slammed his suitcase closed. “I suppose we’ll find out soon enough.”

Didn’t I know it. “You look like you’ve been in the desert for a month.”

He grinned at that. “Try the pool with the kids.”

For Rodger, there was no better place to be. “How’s Mary Ann?”

Rodger’s expression went goofy at the sound of his wife’s name. “She’s fantastic. Sexy as hell.” He headed for the door. “Before I forget—” He ducked outside and returned with a stack of
Star Trek
junk, with a Macy’s shirt box on top. “She sent you this.”

I took the Macy’s box and opened the lid on a batch of Cajun ginger cookies. They were small and perfectly rounded with thick, glistening sugar sprinkles on top. I bit into one and could taste the fresh spice and molasses, not to mention the cayenne bite.

“Stephen helps her bake now,” Rodger said, heading outside for another load. “His favorite shows are
SpongeBob
and
Cake Wars.

“I think I’ve found my dream man.”

“Speaking of which,” he said, easing another load inside, “how’s Galen?”

My heart twisted. “Gone.”

“Aw, geez.” He set down his boxes on the floor.

Rodger had lived through the first set of prophecies with me. So far, I’d managed to avoid telling my closest friend I could see the dead. For all he knew, my involvement was a freak accident. It sure felt that way sometimes.

“It gets worse.” I told Rodger what had happened with Galen.

He planted himself on the edge of his cot, elbows on his knees. “But why?” he asked, just like I had. “Why wouldn’t he let you in on this?”

I shrugged. I’d run the question over in my mind so much, I was exhausted with it. “And in case you thought my love life wasn’t screwed up enough,” I sighed, hardly believing it, “Marc’s back.”

His brows shot up. “No fucking way.”

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