Page 1 of Concluded
CHAPTER1
Los Angeles
January 2025
“Agent Spanos,you need to get back in that bed and?—”
Ignoring the nurse, Achilles Spanos continued looking around the little room for his clothing.He knew his wallet, phone, badge, and gun were in a little cabinet near the sink, but there were no signs of his other belongings.“Where’s my pants?”he demanded.“And my shoes?”
The nurse, a formidable-looking man named Kyle, shook his head.“Everything you were wearing was destroyed.We threw it all away.”
Although Achilles hadn’t felt any particular attachment to that suit, he frowned.“Fine.Get me new ones.”And then, because Kyle had taken good care of him, he added, “Please.”
Kyle didn’t budge, however.“You don’t need them.You’re still recovering.The doc says?—”
“Another couple of days.I know.I don’t care.I want my own bed in my own apartment.And I want to get out of this goddamn building.”
Since Kyle didn’t seem willing to give in, Achilles grabbed the sheet off the bed and wrapped it toga-style.Together with the hospital’s johnny and bright-blue socks with grippy treads, it would have to do.He gathered his belongings from the drawer and, well aware that he was not following protocol regarding weapon handling, marched to the door.He was afraid that Kyle would try to stop him—they were a good match in size—but in Achilles’ current condition, he knew he wouldn’t win.Fortunately, Kyle simply sighed, muttered something under his breath, and let him go.
The little hospital occupied its own wing of the West Coast Bureau HQ, which meant Achilles had a long walk down the hall to the main lobby.His woundshurt, especially the long slash across his abdomen, but hell if he’d turn back.He simply gritted his teeth.When he reached the expanse of the white-marble lobby, he ignored the agent gaping at him from the reception desk and continued to the bank of elevators, letting out a sigh of relief when the nearest doors immediately slid open.As he rode to the top floor, he resisted the urge to lean against the wall.Someone was bound to be watching on the security cameras.
There was another long trek after he exited the elevator, and midway he had to stop and catch his breath.Normally he could run for miles without being winded; he wondered if he would manage to achieve that level of fitness again.Maybe he’d always ache when he moved.
Finally, he flung open the door to the reception area of the chief’s suite.Probably with a little more drama than necessary, which caused him to pull his stitches and hiss with pain.He hurried inside… and faced a demon.
“Where’s Holmes?”Achilles demanded.Victor Holmes had occupied the chief’s outer office for as long as Achilles could remember.Not that Achilles particularly missed the guy—he was terrifying—but the absence threw him.
The demon Tenrael sat on the desk, black wings neatly folded.He would have looked almost demure if he weren’t naked.But at least that meant Achilles wasn’t the least professionally dressed person in the room.
“Agent Holmes is on assignment.”Tenrael’s face didn’t betray any emotion.
“But… he’s in a wheelchair.”And had been for years, ever since he’d been injured on assignment.Very much like Achilles, except Achilles could still walk.
“Agent Holmes is a valuable Bureau employee.”
“Of course he is.But whatever.I need to see the chief.”
Tenrael’s red eyes didn’t blink.“My master is busy.”
“I’m sure.This’ll be quick.”
After a moment, Tenrael shrugged and gestured to the closed inner door.“He is not in a good mood.”
“Is he ever?”
Without waiting for a response, Achilles limped to the door, knocked once, and entered.
When the previous chief had been in residence, the office had always smelled strongly of cigarettes and whiskey.Those scents had disappeared with the new tenant, who brought instead a medley of sweet aromas.Today the office smelled like a donut shop.The chief sat behind his battered wooden desk, gaze fixed on the open pages of a thick book.“What?”he barked without glancing up.
Achilles set his badge and gun on the desk.“I quit.”
Now Chief Grimes did look at him.His eyes were an odd green color that always unsettled Achilles for some reason.“You’re too young for retirement,” he said.
“Not retiring.Quitting.”
“The doctor told me you’ll be fit for duty in a week or so.I’ll give you some less active assignments for a while.”
Achilles started to cross his arms but had to stop and readjust the makeshift toga.All of which spiked a sharp pain through his chest.“Iquit.I wish to no longer be employed by the Bureau.”
