Realm of Darkness Read online

  One of Gray’s brows lifted by an inch; he was visibly doubtful about that last statement, with good reason. Daphne was twenty-two, and looked even younger. Jase seemed more engrossed in his video game than any adult ought to be. And she was just a weirdo with a medical mask. Still, he extended his hand. Tria shook Ralph’s first, but then she moved her hand to return the hottie’s greeting. Instead of shaking it, like a civilized, twenty-second century male, he lifted it and dropped his lips on the back of her palm, smirking against her skin.

  Tria didn’t say, or do, anything, because the instant their skin touched, her entire body froze.

  What the ever-fucking hell was that? Her mind raced through thousands of possibilities and settled on incubus. The man had to be an incubus to get that reaction out of her. He was also a prick who knew exactly what he was doing; she could tell from his annoying smirk.

  Ralph was rolling his eyes, and muttering something that sounded like, “here we go.”

  Glaring behind her glasses, she pulled her hand back, and cleared her throat. Eventually, she remembered how the whole speaking thing was supposed to work.

  “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  Alliances and Allegiances

  Andy started to speak, but Gray was not one to stand in the background; he cut off his boss, explaining, “Raph and I were on a simple mission this morning, and it went wrong. I was stung with demon venom.”

  She didn’t think anyone had ever said that in such a blasé, dismissive tone, just as if he’d been discussing the weather. Most people would be too busy writhing in pain on the floor to have a chat. Tria reluctantly attributed him a couple of badass points for that.

  “Where’s the wound?”

  She shouldn’t have asked. The guy shot her a dazzling smile before removing his compression shirt unceremoniously, revealing a lean, but absolutely ripped, upper body. Yep. She was really drooling now. Praised be the mask.

  The only problem was that the man knew just how pretty he was.

  Cocky isn’t your thing, Winters, she admonished herself as he turned, revealing large shoulders, taut muscles sculpted on his frame. There was a bandage around his left shoulder, and she concentrated on that.

  “I’m going to have to take a look.”

  Gray turned his head towards her, and said softly, “Be gentle with me, ma’am.”

  Tria shook her head, speechless for a second.

  “Does he ever stop laying on the charm?” she asked Andrew, out of curiosity.

  The Director seemed to think it through, but Ralph’s reply was immediate and final. “Never.”

  She sent the poor agent a pitying look. Working with him was probably torture.

  Slowly, carefully, Tria peeled the bandage back to look underneath.

  The wound wasn’t pretty, red and green, blotched and grained, betraying the demonic origin. It was healing though, and quickly, if he’d only been stabbed this morning.

  “It’s pretty deep, too,” she remarked, to no one in particular. “What kind of demon?”

  “One with tentacles,” Ralph replied, moving his fingers to imitate the creature’s creepy writhing. Gray winced at the memory. “Plus a few different heads. And he smelled like something dead wrapped in eau de shit.”

  “Sounds messy.”

  “I generally like messy.”

  Ignoring the flirt’s reply, she pulled the bandage back in place and stepped back. She took a long, relieved breath when she was out of his personal space. Damn him, but that man smelled way too good. Way, way, too good - which did support her theory that he might be an incubus.

  Not that it mattered. Ninety-five percent of the staff of the Paranormal Investigation Agency was, well, paranormal. The Agency employed vampires, wolves, djinns, nymphs, and everything in between. Humans were practically powerless against paranormals, so it made sense to fight fire with fire.

  “Looks like an Asmoderian’s claw mark. They’re minor fiends, and the usual antidotes should work out. I’m sure whoever took care of you gave you one. The only difference is, while the venom works its way out of your body, you’ll probably act a little rash, giving in to your instincts rather than managing them.”

  Gray and Ralph exchanged a glance that told her everything.

  “You’ve already started acting out,” she guessed. “That’s why you’re here.”

  “I may or may not have tied a regular who summoned some djinns to a chair this afternoon. And locked him in with a hellhound. In my defense, it was a perfectly well-trained hound - and the guy needed a wakeup call.”

  Tria concentrated on the most important piece of information there. “You have a trained hellhound?”

  Gray gave her his very first real smile - not the charming crap he liked to dish out, and he nodded. And, another five badass points for the hunk.

  “The point is, that was completely out of character. He insists that he’s fit for work - I’d like you to confirm that.”

  The answer was, no, he wasn’t fit for work, not even a little bit. He was going to tie more idiots to chairs, and possibly put a dildo up Andy’s ass if he stepped out of line.

  Tria smirked.

  “Sure. He’ll be just fine,” she lied.

  The two agents stared at her, speechless and suspicious.

  “Really? Because he has another two missions out, around civilians, and we can’t risk…”

  Tria rarely looked anyone in the eyes; right then, she did, meeting the Director’s gaze through her tinted lenses. “I’m sure. Talking about slightly imbalanced agents in public, I put a request through last month. I don’t think we’ve had an answer yet.”

  Poor Andy tensed, with good reason.

  Tria had asked for her team to get out of the compound; not on an assignment, but for a night of fun.

  “Come on, Andy. Nothing has happened these last five years.” Another lie. Just a couple of months back, they’d snuck out to lend a hand to a bunch of shifters during an all-out war. But he didn’t need to know how many messes they’d gotten themselves into, because all of them had been successfully covered up. “It’ll be good for the morale of the team.”

  If he said no, they’d just sneak out again, but Tria preferred to go the official route if they could. She intended to set up a precedent; after a few outings, they might manage to negotiate a little more freedom.

  A bead of sweat ran down the Director’s forehead. He’d looked right at her for too long now. Which explained why he caved.

  “Alright. You can go this weekend. But you have to keep them in check, Tria.”

  She smiled underneath her mask, before turning on her heels and heading back to her alcove, wordlessly dismissing them.

  Andy, and the rest of the high-ranking officials in the Agency, often forgot one simple fact. Grayson – venom-bit or otherwise – and other agents like him, weren’t their worst problem. Nor were humans summoning demons, or pathetic fiends roaming the cities, living for their next mischief.

  She was.

  She, and the rest of her team.

  Just before they walked out, Gray turned and mouthed a silent thank you. She shrugged it off. She hadn’t lied to help him; she’d lied because she didn’t give a damn what he did to the Agency. If it burned to the ground today, her version of helping out would be pouring gasoline on the pyre.

  “Those were two incredibly hot asses,” Daphne said, the moment the door had closed. “And a frumpy one, but let’s concentrate on the positive.”

  “Would you stop objectifying my sex for one goddamn second?” Jase growled, without taking his eyes off the screen, shooting zombies.

  “Hmm.” The woman pretended to consider it. “Nope, I don’t think I will. Your sex has done it to mine since the beginning of time, so I get a pass. Plus, did you see their biceps?”

  Had she ever.

  Jase rolled his eyes, mumbling something about his muscles being firmer. Which, admittedly, was true. However, he was Jase, so neither Tria nor Daphne cared.

/>   “Now that that delightful distraction is out of the way, we can either go back to kicking each other’s asses, or finish discussing our issue. The one who calls himself ‘the Master’ wants our answer, and I got the feeling he isn’t the patient type.”

  Tria sighed at Daphne’s words. They’d talked about it for over a week, and today, they’d sworn to come to an agreement. That was how they worked: together. Their parents had made the mistake of going against each other and everyone knew how that had ended.

  That didn’t mean they always agreed. Daphne was all for joining the Master. Jase was vehemently against it. Tria…

  “Everything he says makes sense,” she admitted. “The Agency has either controlled, enslaved, or incarcerated people like us for the last decade, and it needs to end. But, I don’t trust him. I don’t trust his motives. And I sure as fuck don’t intend to swear my allegiance to anyone. Anyone but us. This guy contacts us and asks us to call him ‘Master’? Please. I’m out.”

  As far as the Agency was concerned, she was the leader of the research team, mainly because she was the only one with enough patience to play nice with their authority. In actual fact, they were each the corner of a triangle - equal to one another and working in perfect balance. Her word didn’t have more weight than Daphne’s or Jase’s.

  But as she happened to be right, her cousins nodded.

  They would bow to no one.

  Otherness

  “Who was that?” were the first words out of Gray’s mouth, as soon as they’d left the mysterious basement he’d never seen or heard about before.

  After the little incident with the regular he’d locked in with Remus, Ralph told him to go report it to Dotty. Unusual, to say the least; normally, Gray was the one preaching protocol. He dragged his heels to his boss, who fawned over him and babied him until he agreed to having it seen by a specialist.

  Only, everyone qualified to come up with a prognosis had been off today, or out on assignments. Gray believed that should have been the end of it, but Dotty actually reached out to the big boss upstairs on his behalf. Andrew brought him to the weird basement, visibly anxious about it.

  He could feel the boss’ nervousness through the entire conversation downstairs. Although he was working with sups, Andrew wasn’t one to give in to fear, generally.

  Fascinating, mused the unwelcome voice that wouldn’t shut up today.

  “I told you: Tria, Jase and Daphne.”

  “I know, but who are they? I’ve worked here for three years and I’ve never seen any of them.”

  Andrew brushed his fingers through his balding hair. “They’re specialists. Need to know only. And we did need to know if there was anything to worry about – potential demonic possession, on a man as strong as you, is a serious matter.”

  Gray had a hard time preventing himself from snorting. Don’t I know it, he could have said.

  He was about to ask another question, but Ralph stopped him, elbowing him in the flank, before shooting him a warning glance. Then he mused out loud, “Man, that blonde was hot, though. Endless legs. Perfect figure.”

  Andrew chuckled. “Quite. But I’d advise caution, there, Mr. Daniels. Daphne is as dangerous as she is exquisite. You’d do well to stay away.”

  Gray hid a smile. He was normally the one laying on the charm; he might have thought of it, if he hadn’t felt so out of sorts and impulsive today. Playing nice was always a better way to get information; asking questions was pointless when someone didn’t want to answer them.

  Ralph sighed. “Too bad the good ones are all crazy.” Then, as though the thought had just occurred to him, he added, “What is it with the medical mask, though? Are we likely to catch something contagious?”

  Andrew frowned and shook his head. “No, not that I know of. Tria wears it all the time, since I started, anyway. My predecessor says it’s some sort of protection. They do analyze most of the harmful artifacts agents bring through the door downstairs; I guess she must wear it to make sure she doesn’t catch something nasty?”

  That made zero sense. No layer of paper would help against a charm or a hex, unless it was heavily spelled, and Gray doubted it was. He could feel magic, and it had seemed like a normal sick mask.

  What weirded him out was the fact that, despite that mask, although he hadn’t really seen anything of her so far, he felt a strange and potent pull towards her. Not just mere curiosity; the sort of attraction only the hottest, sexiest women he’d met had made him feel. He wanted her; how fucked up was that? There was something peculiar, mysterious about her, and he intended to find out what. If she’d tried to bespell him, he would have known, so it wasn’t that.

  Thankfully, Ralph had managed to fish for some more information: they analyzed artifacts.

  Suddenly, he smiled, an idea crossing his mind. It took a while to execute it. Ralph and he had two other missions that day, then he got to his place, completely beat for the night. He managed to sleep soundly - a rare occurrence. In the morning, though, Gray opened his safe, not very well hidden behind a street art painting, and waved his hand to unlock the spell protecting it.

  He grabbed one of the many trinkets he kept inside. Nothing here was of real value, to him at least - some money, gold, and a few spelled items he had no use for. He kept this safe obvious and fairly accessible as a security, ensuring that no intruder would think to look for anything he really valued.

  Still, his things were unique, and to anyone who loved artifacts, probably fascinating. Smirking all the way, he walked in the head office an hour early, and headed right to the basement.

  Bribe

  She wasn’t surprised to find the field agent at her door. Why wasn’t she surprised?

  Tria was contemplating theories to answer that mystery, holding the door open, and Gray must have taken it as an invitation, because he walked past her, getting in the office.

  “What is he…” Daphne started, but Tria tuned her cousin out, because the idiotic, suicidal stranger took a step towards her, getting right in her personal space, and bent down. His face was so close to hers, she could feel his breath on her cheek. Daphne could very well be screaming about a shark in a pink tutu, Tria wouldn’t have given two fucks about what she was saying right then.

  “Brown,” Mr. Suicidal said, pulling back. “You have brown eyes.”

  What the…

  Did he realize she could very well have beheaded him for taking her by surprise like that?

  Probably not.

  “Black, actually,” she mumbled, before summoning the right amount of indignation and glaring at him. “What are you doing here? You know it takes special clearance to come to us, right?”

  “I lead the First Alpha unit.”

  He shrugged it off like it was nothing; it wasn’t. Not at all, in fact. There were thirteen units in the Alpha squad reporting to Patricia Dotts, and all of them were known to be redoubtable. The First was the best, pointblank. That meant he had clearance for whatever he wanted in the head office, if he asked for it.

  Her eyes narrowed, and she attempted to see past the highly distracting facade. Was he some sort of spy? To test their loyalty to the Agency? She would have thought the possibility highly plausible, if the Director hadn’t been so damn stupid and naive. Andrew really believed she and her cousins were happy at the Agency.

  Andrew had replaced his predecessor a couple of years prior; he hadn’t seen Daphne in her youth, before she’d learned to hide her feelings. He’d never really seen Jase or Tria lose it either. He had their files, of course, but he’d dismissed their previous behavior as their excessive version of teenage rebellion. He also believed he had an ally in Tria. As far as she could see, he genuinely thought she’d help him control Daphne and Jase. What a joke.

  Tria was the least problematic out of the three of them, and there was a simple reason for that. She was the only one who wasn’t a prisoner.

  Ten years ago, her mother’s parting words told her to get to the newly formed Agency. “Yo
u aren’t alone, Tria.” She hadn’t known what she’d meant then, but she’d obeyed. It wasn’t like she’d had many options, at fifteen, without any documents proving her identity.

  The agents had greeted her like a goddamned Messiah because they’d just caught a kid they couldn’t control – or kill, for that matter. They’d tried. Daphne, younger than her by four years, had been found shoplifting; she injured the two policemen who tried to arrest her, one of them fatally, before running for it.

  When the policeman died, the Agency sent their best after her. They found her, and the shit hit the fan. Daphne killed over half of them before they managed to restrain her, and shot her with a sedative strong enough for a horse.

  Tria only read the report, but she could imagine it all. How frightened the kid must have been, how alone she’d felt.

  Their meeting was forever branded in her mind. At first glance, she recognized Daphne for what she was. Her kindred.

  Jase might have had a similar story, if things had gone differently. He had only joined them four years back. Jase had been a twenty-year-old ex street kid, with a job bussing tables, keeping his head down. He’d lived in a rough part of the city, and some human gang members were stupid enough to try to corner him one night.

  To his credit, he didn’t actually kill any of them, although Tria doubted they’d regained their motor function by now. Still, his actions caught the attention of the PIA, and he, too, lost his freedom. If asked, Jase said he didn’t regret a thing; he’d also gained something he’d never had. A family.

  It took them a while to confirm that they were actually related, but eventually, Tria managed to sneak into the lab upstairs, and test the liquid gold blood running through their veins. Now they knew it, without the shadow of a doubt.

  And it couldn’t be a coincidence. Three of them, of the same age, alive at the same time, in the same place? Their parents were playing some games.