Destroyer of Worlds Read online

  Caleb bit his lip, forcing the pain to distract him from the burning of his eyes. Bursting into tears in front of the spy cameras wouldn’t help anything.

  I’m sorry.

  “It does not matter.” Except it did, of course. Gray had finally learned how to lie to himself, just not very effectively. “Nothing will change the situation.” That was more truthful, at least.

  No, but still. I’m sorry.

  “Let us worry about leaving this place, instead of dwelling on what cannot be altered.”

  Agreed. Leave and find the moths, and things would…

  Well. Caleb didn’t know, but “go back to normal” wasn’t in the picture anymore. Not for him, anyway.

  It didn’t matter right now. First things first; getting out wouldn’t be easy, even with help.

  He didn’t go straight to the sketchbook in his bedroom. Instead he headed for the shower, as any watchers would expect, shedding his blood-crusted clothes as he went. He took a long shower, the water turned up hot enough to turn his skin pink and steam up any camera lenses. Or so he hoped; the idea of someone ogling his naked junk made him feel vulnerable.

  “Mortal nonsense. Clothing is no protection.”

  Thanks for the reminder. Being alone in his own head again would seem weird after all this.

  After drying, he hastily pulled on the identical shirt and pants as the ones the werebear had ruined. Only then did he go to his sketchbook.

  He thumbed through it idly, looking at the illustrations he’d done this week. Not his best work, given his mind hadn’t really been on the art, but Gray’s influence on his style was apparent. It would have been interesting to see what they might have done together.

  A few pages in, he leaned forward, deliberately hiding the pages from any cameras with the fall of his long hair. Would’ve been screwed if I had a buzz cut.

  Flipping to the first unmarked page, he found a key card tucked into the sketchbook. Someone had written “22:00” on the card in black sharpie.

  Guess that’s when they want us to go. This card has to open our door. Wonder if it works on the elevator?

  “If not, we will climb.” Grim determination.

  Caleb took a deep breath. Think we can do this?

  “We will.” No hesitation.

  You can’t know that.

  “Nor can you know we cannot.”

  Caleb slipped the card into the waistband of his underwear. You’ve got a point. Okay. Ten o’clock, and we’re out of here.

  Chapter 6

  At precisely ten o’clock, the power went out.

  Caleb didn’t realize how much ambient sound filled the apartment until it disappeared. The distant purr of fans died, the sigh of air through the ducts going with them. No buzz from the fridge, or banked hum of the lights.

  For a moment, he sat in complete darkness, too deep even for Gray’s vision to penetrate. Then backup power kicked in, an amber glow of emergency lights near the door. To his amped-up eyes, it might as well have been daylight.

  Caleb didn’t waste any time. He’d already stripped off his stupid t-shirt and sweatpants; rolling out of bed, he slid open the closet and yanked on his own clothes in record time, buckling a hundred pounds of kevlar-lined elk hide around his shoulders as he headed for the door.

  The electronic lock still had power. Considering the monsters Forsyth had squirreled away in his basement, no doubt keeping the security system up and running was priority number one. He held up the keycard, but hesitated an instant before swiping it.

  They didn’t have much time. With any luck, it would be a while before anyone realized they’d escaped, but they needed to move fast. No hesitation.

  Gray stirred, hovering just under the surface. “And if the guards try to stop us?”

  They’d hurt people before. The Fist operative who’d tried to assassinate John. Melanie. But they hadn’t killed anyone still totally human, or anyone who could be saved.

  We’ve got get out of here. Got to let people know what Forsyth is up to, building a damn army of demons. A hell of a lot of innocent people might die if RD’s pet project went wrong. No holding back. We can’t risk it.

  “I understand.”

  He swiped the card. The door slid open, revealing a spirit ward laid down directly in front of it, and a very startled-looking guard stationed across the hall.

  * * *

  Gray doesn’t hesitate, surging across the spirit ward. It breaks around him with a satisfying “pop.” The guard has just enough time to look surprised, before Gray’s fist slams into his head.

  The guard hits the wall with a crunch of bone and spray of blood. Gray doesn’t wait to find out if the man is dead or merely unconscious, instead sprinting down the hall toward the elevator. The exorcists who laid down the spirit ward will have sensed it break, which means all hope for a stealthy escape is already gone. With any luck the darkness will keep the mortals confused, but he and Caleb cannot count on such a thing.

  Curse this electricity, which gives so much light. Things were much simpler when mortals possessed only oil lamps and candles. He adds it to his list of modern inconveniences, along with motor vehicles.

  There is another guard at the elevator; Gray spots the flashlight long before they are on the mortal. The man’s nervousness is betrayed by the rankness of his sweat. He fears the dark as mortals often do.

  Good. Fear makes creatures act recklessly.

  Gray drops into a crouch, padding forward on the balls of his feet. Caleb tucked the keycard into their pocket, and he pulls it out. He waits until the guard is looking away, before throwing it.

  The whisper of plastic on carpet causes the soldier to jerk around, presenting his back to Gray. “McDaniels? Is tha—”

  Gray seizes the man’s head, turning it with a sharp twist. Vertebrae snap, and he falls, dead before he hits the floor.

  “Oh God…” But Caleb pulls on the reserves of his strength, holds back the horror threatening to flood their shared veins. “Get…get his key card.”

  We had no other choice.

  “I know. Just get the damn card, okay?”

  Gray does as instructed and tries it on the elevator. Nothing happens; all the lights remain red.

  “The elevators must lock down in an emergency. Fuck.”

  It will not stop us.

  He tosses the card aside and steps up to the elevator doors. Hooking his fingers into the crack between them, he pushes outward, forcing them open with a squeal of tortured metal.

  The elevator car is on this floor, which makes things easier. Gray rips the hatch in the ceiling free and scrambles through, into the shaft itself. Cables stretch high into the darkness overhead.

  “I couldn’t even climb the rope in gym class.” Memories of smelly feet and half-naked boys, of trying to hide an erection in front of the star quarterback. “Can we play ‘Caleb’s most embarrassing teen moments’ later, please?”

  You brought up the subject, Gray points out. He ignores the cables in favor of the inside of the elevator shaft. Extending his claws to better grip each handhold and crevice, he begins to climb.

  It takes less than a minute to reach the top of the shaft, climbing swift and easy. Bracing himself, he hauls open the doors leading into the concrete garage at the top.

  Three soldiers stand on the other side, guns pointed at him.

  * * *

  “No holding back,” Caleb had said.

  So Gray doesn’t.

  He vaults into the garage, tearing through them even as the agents open fire. It hurts, meat and bone shredded by silver-jacketed lead, but he doesn’t stop or hesitate.

  He sinks his claws into a living body and uses it like a club, swinging the agent into her fellows. Bullets hit her. She jerks at the impact against her body armor, before she smashes into the other guards, taking them out in a crack of bone.

  He drops her and runs. These were the first to respond to the alarm of his escape, and although the power outage has left the morta
ls slow to organize, more will be here soon. He grabs the rolling garage door, ripping it upward in a shriek of bending metal, before ducking beneath. For the first time in a week, he is in the open air.

  Lightning forks across the sky, accompanied by a crack of thunder which drowns out the wail of alarms. Cold rain lashes him, soaking his hair in seconds.

  Yes.

  Lights cut across the open yard, but he ignores them, running for the nearest wall as fast as he can. Shouts and gunfire follow him, but the mortals are too slow.

  The concrete wall is high, and tipped with silver-plated razor wire. Spirit wards gleam every few feet, protected from the rain by plastic sheeting. If he were a demon, he would be trapped within the compound.

  But he is no demon. He is the storm; he feels the wind and the rain and the lightning, power pounding against his skin and in his blood. They are one, on some primal level which needs no explanation.

  “Hold on!”

  We cannot linger. But he hesitates before launching himself at the wall.

  “No—I’m not fucking slicing off all our fingers on the damn razor wire.”

  Ah. Perhaps you should take over for a moment.

  * * *

  Gray slipped back, leaving Caleb standing in the downpour, with a dozen guards closing in. Not the best conditions to concentrate on using his TK, but no way would he let Gray drag them over the razor wire if he had a choice otherwise.

  Lightning exploded across the sky, the wind shaking the trees all around. The air smelled of wet earth. Taking a deep breath, Caleb flexed his knees, ready to jump and add all of Gray’s power to the leap, just in case his TK didn’t get them quite high enough.

  He pushed against the ground with his ability the same moment he sprang. The combination launched him up at the wall, and for a second he thought they were going to make it, until bullets smashed into his shoulder.

  The impact spun him around, pain blazing like a supernova. He crashed into the top of the wall, razor wire lacerating his thighs and snagging his coat. He started to fall back into the compound, and fuck no, he refused to die here.

  He shoved again, even though pain spiked through his head, his power overtaxed. But it redirected his momentum, even as he sent the guards flying back.

  He fell over the outer side of the wall, hitting the ground beyond with bone-snapping force. For a moment he couldn’t see, couldn’t move, through a blinding sheet of pain. The wounds closed sluggishly, femur wrenching back into place, and he couldn’t help but think dying would have been a hell of a lot less painful.

  “But more permanent.”

  Damn drakul, being right and all.

  Caleb staggered to his feet like a drunken man. Spotlights flared to life behind him, the base’s power coming back online. Ahead of him stretched a cleared space roughly the length of a football field, but beyond lay a sea of storm-tossed trees.

  Freedom.

  He ran, all of Gray’s speed and strength his to claim. A few bullets pocked the dirt near them, but no closer. In a flash, they were in the woods beyond, hidden from the guards on the walls.

  Branches slapped their face, and the only light came from the continuous strikes of lightning, but neither of them cared. Caleb ran, the last bruises healing, pain fading into triumph.

  We made it. They’ll probably try to chase us down, but it will take them a while.

  I can’t believe we did it.

  “I had no doubts,” Gray said, with far more smugness than the situation warranted.

  But they were running the night forest in a storm, in the midst of the lashing trees and keening wind. Caleb breathed in the wild scent of the air, feeling mad elation bubble up deep in his chest.

  Because this felt good. Whatever else Gray had brought him, this was joy. To run faster than he ever imagined, reveling in the sheer physical pleasure. To have a glimpse of what it might be to be truly free. Truly wild.

  “I, too, enjoy it.”

  “Yeah.” Caleb grinned, glancing over his shoulder at the rapidly receding base. “Sometimes it’s fun to be a creature of the night.”

  * * *

  John paced the floor of the condo, every nerve drawn tight, his stomach queasy from a mixture of fear and exhaustion. He’d taken Friday off work, wanting to be ready for Caleb’s call. Hours dragged past, and at first he told himself not to worry. Caleb would call, probably after nightfall.

  The sun went down, and the phone failed to ring. Now the clock showed well after midnight, and still no word from Caleb.

  John paused in his pacing, staring blankly at the ugly orange couch. Something had gone wrong. Caleb hadn’t made it out. Which meant either Gray would die, or they both would.

  Sekhmet, She Who Devours Evil, give him strength. Surely he could do something. Think of some way to save them—

  The ring of his cell phone made his heart jerk in his chest. Hands shaking, he snatched it up. “Hello?”

  “John!”

  The sound of Caleb’s voice made him want to sink to the floor in relief and gratitude. “Caleb! Where are you? Are you all right?”

  “I’m okay. I’m calling from a pay phone—can you believe there are any still left? It’s in front of a convenience store.”

  “Where are you?”

  “New Ellenton, I think the sign said? Shit, I don’t know, I just ran cross-country for two hours in a storm.” Caleb rattled off the name of the nearest intersection, and John scribbled it down. Goddess, he hoped Forsyth wasn’t paranoid enough to have someone keeping tabs on his phone. Or him. He hadn’t noticed any suspicious vehicles parked or following him around, but he’d keep a close eye on his rearview mirror on the drive down.

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can,” John said. “Listen, Caleb—I’ve got great news. I found an exorcism I’m certain will work!”

  There came a pause. “Oh?” Caleb asked, managing to sound both hopeful and uncertain. “Are…are you sure?”

  “Yes.” He couldn’t allow any room for doubt, not for either of them. “It takes more than one exorcist, though, and, well, I can’t exactly take you back to HQ at the moment. I’ll pick you up. We’ll come back here, meet up with Sean, and perform the exorcism somewhere away from prying eyes. Okay?”

  He heard Caleb let out a long breath. “Yeah. Okay. But we’ve got to talk, after.”

  “Sure.” Hopefully there would be an “after.” He’d release Gray back into the world, then take Caleb straight to Kaniyar. With any luck, he could shield Caleb from the fallout. As for himself, he didn’t have much hope, but it was the sacrifice he had to make. “I’ll be there in about two and half hours. Hang tight.”

  “I will.”

  John hung up and grabbed the bag with his exorcism equipment in it. As he shut and locked the condo door behind him, he wondered if he’d ever see it again, or if the next place he called home would come with bars and orange jumpsuits.

  So long as Caleb and Gray were safe, it didn’t matter. He couldn’t let himself worry about anything else.

  * * *

  “One of the ghoul houses, right?” John asked. Caleb didn’t catch Sean’s answer; John didn’t have his cell on speaker.

  The miles rolled away beneath the wheels of John’s sedan. The storm had blown out to sea, and the sun came up in a blaze of color a couple of hours ago. Caleb stared out his window at it, soaking up the brilliant shades of gold, scarlet, and shell pink. He felt Gray clinging to the aching beauty of the world, desperate to take some memory of it with him, terrified it would fade once he again inhabited dead neurons and decayed flesh.

  Caleb wouldn’t ever see another sunrise like this one, either. Once Gray left, he would find himself limited to the ordinary scope of human senses. He’d forget the vivid colors, the thousand subtleties of scent, the way even the smooth surface of a coffee mug revealed imperfections and texture to his fingertips.

  He wouldn’t miss the maulings and insanity. But the experience hadn’t been a complete nightmare.

 
He wouldn’t be the same, and neither would Gray. And neither, unfortunately, would John.

  Caleb spent most of the drive detailing everything he’d seen at RD, including all the demons in the basement. John’s knuckles had turned white from clenching the steering wheel, and his expression grown more and more fixed. After dumping that load on John’s shoulders, Caleb hadn’t been able to bring himself to mention the moths’ offer to exorcise Gray. He hadn’t called them, either; he owed it to John to tell him about SPECTR first.

  He still had some time left. John and Sean would exorcise him, and if something went wrong and it didn’t work, he’d call the moths and get their help.

  And if it did work…the other thing he hadn’t yet brought up would become an issue. Somehow he had to convince John to let Gray go, against every law and every SPECTR dictate.

  John hung up. “Sean’s going to meet us at an abandoned house. Kaniyar stuck us on ghoul patrol last week, and it’s one of the addresses we didn’t check yet. We’ll perform the exorcism there.”

  “Thanks. How did he take the news about my breaking out and…everything?”

  John’s eyes darkened. “Not bad.”

  “Really?”

  “He’s still processing. But we’ve been best friends since high school. He knows I wouldn’t just make up something like this.”

  Caleb winced. “I’m sorry about SPECTR.”

  John’s mouth tightened. “Not your fault.”

  “I know, but…well, I’d say I know how you must feel, but truth is I can’t fucking imagine it right now.”

  John shook his head, blue eyes locked on the road. “Once we’ve removed Gray, the three of us will go to Kaniyar. Pittman can verify you’re not lying about what happened.”

  Caleb thought about pointing out Kaniyar might very well know exactly what went on at RD. Somebody sure as hell did; no way was an operation that big carried out without any knowledge of the higher ups. And Forsyth didn’t have any higher-ups, except for the Director of SPECTR himself.

  But crushing John’s last bit of optimism seemed too cruel. He rested his hand on John’s knee, denim warm against his fingertips. “Thanks for trusting me.”