Page 40 of Soulmarked

I scowled, not liking the knowing look in her eyes. “I won't hesitate.”

“We'll see.” She smiled, but it held no humor. “When it's your pretty fed standing on that line between human and monster... that's when we find out what you're really made of.”

Before I could respond, she was gone. The air where she'd stood still hummed with power, a reminder that whatever she'd been before, she was something else now.

I exhaled slowly, letting my head fall back against the concrete. Her words settled like lead in my gut, mixing with everything else I'd learned tonight. About Phoenix, about their plans, about forces beyond our control.

About a certain federal agent who carried power he didn't understand.

Tomorrow, we'd find out just how deep this mess went. Tomorrow, we'd face whatever Phoenix was bringing through those ancient doors they were so keen on opening.

But tonight, alone in a training room that smelled of blood and old violence, I couldn't shake the feeling that Juno was right.

And I wasn't sure I was ready for the answer.

10

COMPLICATIONS

“We're not hunting for vampires.” The words came out abruptly as we made our way through Manhattan. I could feel my side still aching from the earlier clash, but I wasn't about to mention it.

Cade stopped short, turning to face me with that carefully neutral federal expression that reminded me way too much of Sam when he was trying to be the reasonable one. “And you know this how?”

“Got word from a contact.” I kept walking, not wanting to have this conversation in the open. The weight of my gun pressed against my lower back, a comforting reminder of what actually worked in this world. “Someone who knows the difference between feeding marks and ritual draining.”

“A contact.” His voice carried an edge I hadn't heard before. “Were you planning on sharing this information, or is keeping secrets just part of your charm?”

“Don't get your panties in a bunch, Agent Scully.” I shot him a sidelong glance. “Was gonna tell you once I confirmed the information wasn't complete bull.”

“From who?” He fell into step beside me, but I could feel the tension radiating off him. “Who's this mysteriously well-informed contact?”

“Juno.” I waited for the explosion I knew was coming, almost looking forward to it. Nothing quite like watching Mr. By-The-Book lose his composure.

“The vampire?” His hand drifted toward his weapon. “You're trusting a vampire's word on this?”

“Former hunter,” I corrected sharply. “One of Hallow's best before she was turned. And yeah, I trust her. At least about this.” I paused, then added with a smirk, “Besides, she makes a hell of a whiskey sour.”

Cade's expression shifted. “Juno Hawthorne. Turned four years ago in London during a mission gone wrong. Former member of Hallow's elite tactical unit. Now owns three establishments in the city, including Purgatory.” He caught my surprise and shrugged. “What? I do my homework. Her file at CITD is technically labeled 'person of interest in multiple homicides,' but I know what she really is.”

I couldn't help but be impressed at his research, though I'd rather face a wendigo barehanded than admit it. “She kept her training, kept her contacts. Still fights the good fight, just from a different angle now.” I stopped, turning to face him properly. “Look, you want to be pissed about me keeping secrets? Fine. But don't question my judgment about who to trust in this world. Not if you want to make it to retirement with all your limbs attached.”

“Like you don't question mine?” His eyes met mine, carrying challenge. “Or did you forget all those lectures about feds not belonging in supernatural business?”

The hit landed, but I pushed through. “That was different. You're?—”

“I'm what?”

Instead of answering, I gestured ahead to where the church rose against the skyline. “We can have this chick-flick moment later. Right now, we've got bigger problems and another old church to check out.”

The church on 5th Avenue loomed against Manhattan's neon-stained sky like something out of a Gothic nightmare. Years of acid rain and city grime had eaten away at the brick, leaving scars that looked too deliberate to be natural. Ivy crawled up the walls like dark veins, reaching toward windows that hadn't held proper glass in decades. I'd spent enough time in places like this to know it was never just a church. Where there were old stones, there were older secrets. And right now, I was watching one of them move.

“Six guards,” I muttered, keeping low on our rooftop perch. “And none of them human, if the way they're movin' is anything to go by.”

Cade crouched beside me, all federal agent focus as he adjusted what looked like military-grade thermal imaging equipment. The tech was impressive, definitely not standard CITD issue.

“There's more inside,” he said, voice pitched low. “And something below ground. The heat signature's... wrong.”

I gave a sharp nod, tracking movement near a side entrance that probably hadn't seen proper Mass in years. “Whatever's down there, someone's guardin' it like it's the last pie at a buffet.” One of the figures moved into better light, and I caught the distinctive predatory grace that marked it as something wearing human skin like an ill-fitting suit.

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