Shadow Fall (27 page)

“Probably nothing you can use,” the banaranjan replied. “We will meet you atop the gilded towers of Gilead.”

Kira pressed the heel of her hand to her temple, which did nothing to relieve her headache. “Taking him to Gilead means you may all get your damn fool heads shot off, Bale!”

“Then I trust that you’ll send word of our arrival. I would hate for our party favor to be damaged because we’re not on the invite list.”

“Bale? Bale!” He’d disconnected. “Son of a bitch!”

“What is it?” Khefar asked, pausing at a traffic light.

“Get us to Gilead pronto.” Kira dialed Sanchez on her phone. “Section Chief, we’ve got trouble.”

“What sort of trouble, Solomon? Have you rendezvoused with the Special Response Team yet?”

“No, there’s no need to do that now. I just got a call from the leader of the banaranjan community. They’ve apprehended our suspect and are bringing him into custody. They’re going to drop him off—and I mean that in every literal sense—on the roof of Gilead East.”

“Dammit, Solomon! How did
that
happen?”

“Apparently the informant who gave me information on the other victims gave the banaranjans information about our prime suspect,” Kira said, making a mental note to twist wings and take names later. “We’re a minute out. I don’t know how long before Bale and his people get there, but it will be minutes, since they’re flying. Send a team up, but for the love of Light, don’t allow them to engage. Banaranjans feed off adrenaline, and the easiest way to get it on a roof is by throwing people off of it.”

Sanchez paused. “If they attack my people—”

“I’m not going to let that happen,” Kira assured the section chief. “Tell them to stand down and not engage. If any of them can’t keep their emotions under control, they don’t need to go out on the roof.”

Another choice expletive spilled through Kira’s earpiece. “I’m sending multiple strike teams to the roof as well as SRTs Two and Four. Get your ass over here now.” The section chief disconnected.

“Two hangups in a row,” Kira said, ripping her earpiece off to satisfy her need to do something. “If we don’t get to Gilead East in the next thirty seconds, all kinds of hell are going to break loose.”

“They need to be careful,” Khefar warned. “Banaranjans are dangerous even when they aren’t on an adrenaline high.”

Kira cut a glance at him. “You said something to Bale about them at the fund-raiser. I guess you’ve had experience with them?”

“Not the way you have. My experience was mostly battle related—like I told you before, I was there when Mehmed the Conqueror ruled the Ottoman Empire. The banaranjans served several sultans as their personal guards. From what I understand, they learn to be vicious and quick from the crèche.”

“The strong eat and the weak get eaten,” Kira murmured.

“Exactly. Their love of combat and inner dominance squabbles kept the population low. At some point, however, one of the viziers convinced the sultan that the banaranjans had outlived their usefulness.”

“I bet that went over well.”

“Like the proverbial lead balloon,” Khefar answered. “After all, banaranjans only have loyalty to themselves and whichever one is strong enough to lead. They … withdrew their support of the sultanate in a dramatic fashion. A lot of them died. The remaining banaranjans retreated to the mountains and the Empire continued its long march to dissolution.”

“They’ve adapted like every other race has adapted,” Kira said, watching the city whiz by her window. “Those who left Turkey seemed to adapt from participating in wars for harvesting adrenaline to using sporting events instead. Almost all of the banaranjans here in town seem more than capable of suppressing the more violent tendencies of their nature. Bale has a lot to do with that.”

“Yet he’s the one inciting a firefight by bringing a high-profile suspect of unknown power to Gilead’s doorstep,” Khefar pointed out. “Sometimes nature wins out.”

Kira fell silent. Unfortunately, when it came to fighting her inner demons, she had no idea which side of her nature would win.

What was fortunate was that Peachtree Street was nearly deserted, giving them a straight shot into Midtown and the glass and steel fortification of Gilead East’s headquarters. As Khefar pulled onto the ramp for the underground parking garage, Kira belatedly remembered the Shadowblade tucked in a second sheath under her left arm. “Crappity crap.”

“What now?” Khefar asked.

Rhino stood beside the security kiosk, the detaining arm already raised. He waved as he recognized Kira, and she relaxed. “I was worried about the layers of security that would trip with the presence of the dagger. Since Rhino’s waving us in, I guess they temporarily lowered the security level.”

She could feel his eyes on her, as if he knew it wasn’t a complete answer. It was the truth, though; she just wanted him to believe she meant the Dagger of Kheferatum and not the new blade she’d acquired.

She had no idea why she had brought it with her. It seemed important that she have the blade on hand. Besides, she always had at least two other blades on her person in addition to her Lightblade. Now she had an extra one that was forged with Shadow magic.

Khefar braked to a stop, rolling down the window as Rhino gestured to them. “Security’s already waiting for you at the elevator, Kira,” he told her. “The last lift at the end of the bay will express you up. The chief’s waiting too.”

“Thanks, Rhino.”

At Kira’s direction, Khefar made a couple of quick turns lower into the parking deck, passing through another barrier waiting open for them. He parked the Charger between two black SUVs. Kira had her door open before he killed the engine, moving quickly to the waiting freight elevator and the pair of officers in black tactical gear.

“Chaser Solomon,” the male said with a nod as the female keyed a code into the data panel on the left side of the elevator doors. “I suggest feet shoulder-width apart but not locking your knees. This is going to be a fast ride.”

She complied, noted that Khefar did the same. The female officer placed her palm against the panel. It flashed blue as it scanned her hand. As it flashed white, the elevator lifted off smoothly, but Kira could feel the tingle along her arms as it magically gathered speed. Pressure increased with the speed of her ascent, pushing her down and making her want to lock her knees. She was grateful the energy bars were the only things in her stomach as her equilibrium went haywire.

Gilead East was typical of the buildings in Midtown: tall, glass, modern. Gilead’s building encompassed more than twenty-five floors aboveground and at least five below. It would normally take several minutes to traverse the elevator’s route even without stopping on every floor. They were traveling fast—faster than Kira’s brain wanted to account for—causing her to shut her eyes and grit her teeth as magic and physics fought, scratched, and crawled to a draw.

Her stomach leapt to her throat as the elevator car abruptly slowed before stopping. The male guard murmured something into his earpiece, and nodded to the other guard. She tapped a code into the panel. The doors slid open onto a long utilitarian corridor painted discount gray and lit by a row of fluorescent light bars running down the center of the ceiling.

“I never want to do that again,” Khefar finally said, slowly stepping out of the elevator.

“Most people don’t,” the male guard said. He pointed down the corridor. “The way is safe now. Follow that to the end. There’s a short flight of stairs leading up to the roof access. Rigger will be waiting to guide you the rest of the way.”

“Thanks.” They made their way down the hall, their heavy boots loud on the polished concrete floor.

“Should I even ask what he meant by that whole ‘the way is safe’ thing?” Khefar asked.

“I’ve only been up here once or twice. I know there are usually lasers on when no one’s up here. Maybe they’ve installed something nastier that would activate if we don’t make it off the roof or if Gilead East is ever attacked from above. Hopefully Bale and his people won’t give us cause to find out.”

The corridor made a sharp ninety-degree turn before abruptly stopping at a reinforced door of heavy steel. Another guard in full black combat gear waited there, assault rifle pointed at the floor. “Ma’am, sir,” he said, “if you would please step on the mat.”

Khefar raised an eyebrow, but complied. Kira stepped onto the mat beside him. The guard punched a string of code into the data panel beside the door. A swoosh of powerful energy swept through Kira, prickling her extrasense like a cotton sock fresh from the dryer. She could sense the defense grid filling the corridor with a fine mesh. Since the guard had them stand on the mat, it obviously didn’t matter whether someone from Light or Shadow stepped into the corridor. If anything dared walk down the hallway, that pattern of energy would rip them to ribbons.

The guard pushed the door outward and raised his gun. “Please follow me.”

Frigid air rushed down at them as they climbed the steep concrete steps up to the rooftop proper. Kira had a feeling the below-freezing temperature would be the least of her problems.

She strode to the center of the helicopter pad, hand on the hilt of her Lightblade to keep her anger from boiling over. The banaranjans usually kept their night flying to the upper atmosphere or heavily storming or cloudy nights. This frigid early-December morning was neither. Sanchez wasn’t happy about the banaranjans intercepting their suspect, and Kira completely understood. Gilead didn’t have to follow mundane protocols when it came to their investigations, but they did have rules. If Bale and his clan ruined their chances to get useful information out of Hammond …

She huddled in her battered trench coat, shoulders tightened against the cold and the tension. Twenty-five stories up in the wind tunnel of the Midtown Atlanta corridor was not the way she wanted to spend a night. Then again, being called to the hospital wasn’t a stroll in the park either.

She surveyed the rooftop again. Sanchez stood to her left, Khefar to her right, slightly ahead and a little apart so they could both draw their weapons if the need arose.

The section chief’s demeanor, cool, authoritative, and composed, spread out from her—an invisible mist blanketing the support personnel arranged around them. The subtle and overt energies of command were magical in their own way as Sanchez held her subordinates steady and in place by the sheer force of her will. It made Kira wonder how far the section chief’s military career would have gone if her niece hadn’t been killed by a Shadowling during summer camp.

A heavily armed security team, some thirty in all, formed a half-moon behind them, weapons ready but lowered. Sharpshooters had stationed themselves behind the HVAC units to provide cover fire if need be. Kira couldn’t see them now, but she’d noticed a pair of snipers in night-vision goggles and anti-detection gear settle into place, their surface-to-air weapons trained on the frigid night sky. For an emergency deployment, Sanchez had assembled an oppressive force.

Kira hoped the section chief wouldn’t have cause to open fire. For banaranjans, adrenaline was like catnip. Fear, excitement—any emotion that caused a surge of human adrenaline—would be exploited and metabolized into an intoxicant. The last thing they needed was the murders of stoned banaranjans landing on the roof.

There was an ace in the hole, Kira realized. With the helicopter pad empty, she could clearly see the steel graphic swirled into the concrete roof: one large circle outlined by stone pillars that stood over three feet high. They weren’t ordinary pillars, though: instead of reinforced concrete, rock crystal, quartz, and salts composed the cylindrical structures. The minerals were good power conductors, and being exposed to the constant barrage of the elements, charging up on sunshine and moonlight, they would make excellent boosters for someone looking to enhance their magical strength.

Kira had no doubt the power generated by the mineral pillars would be incredible. It also made her wonder who Gilead East had at their disposal who was capable of harnessing that much energy with any sort of cohesive direction. It would take a highly trained Light Adept to be able to survive channeling that much raw power through their magical filters, let alone manipulate it.

A tingle of awareness along the outer reaches of her extrasense alerted Kira. “We’ve got incoming,” she murmured to Sanchez.

Tension ramped higher as heads swiveled to catch a glimpse of the descending banaranjans. The security teams had their work cut out for them. Despite their size—banaranjans were slightly larger than humans in their native form—and their penchant for flying in raging storms, banaranjans were stealth flyers. In full flight and high on human adrenaline, they had a knack for tricking the eye.

“How many?” Sanchez asked, scanning the darkness above them. A few clouds hung in the chilly night sky, the only thing keeping the temperature bearable. Yet even with the thin cloud cover and a sliver of moon high in the sky, the winged hybrids couldn’t be seen.

“Three.”

Sanchez relaxed. Kira didn’t. Neither, she noticed, did Khefar. The section chief might believe outnumbering the hybrids ten to one gave her an advantage, but Kira knew better. At least tonight, they had a common enemy. Because of that, the power plays and displays would be nonexistent or at least kept to a minimum.

The heavy thump of wing beats cut through the wind whistling over the rooftop. Several of the team members stirred. Kira groaned. It looked like there was going to be some posturing going on after all.

“Solomon.” Sanchez’s voice frosted the night air. “You better do your damndest to keep your friends in line. They have blatantly interfered with an ongoing Gilead investigation. I am not happy.”

Kira grit her teeth. When the section chief was unhappy, that crap rolled downhill real fast. She and the chief had been getting along as well as any bureaucrat and someone who acted first and apologized later could; Kira didn’t want back on her shit list.

“It will be okay,” Kira said as the sound of beating wings grew louder and closer, as if coming from right above them. “Think of this as a Special Response Team making a delivery. A very special team making a very special delivery.”