Free Destroyer of Worlds by Jordan L. Hawk Page A

was simply the way of things.
    He’d never felt such peace.
    “ Of course I love you. You
are my other self.”
    A name came back to him. Gray.
    “ Yes.” Regret. “It has been too long since
we fed. Our healing has been slow. I am afraid this will
hurt.”
    It’s okay. He
didn’t know what would hurt, but he knew the other—Gray—wouldn’t
let him come to any real harm, if he could prevent it.
    “ Are you ready?”
    For what?
    “ To breathe.”
    Aren’t we breathing?
    “ No.”
    We probably ought to, don’t you think?
    “ Yes. Hold tight. As I said,
this will hurt.”
    The protective cocoon of love and warmth
began to peel back, and the light grew brighter. Agony spiked
through his head, pieces of his skull grating against each other as
they shifted back into place, and Caleb—
    — drew breath.
    He jerked off the floor with a gasp, his
lungs desperate for air. His entire body ached, as if he’d
overexerted every muscle and left it screaming for oxygen. When he
blinked, his lids scraped over corneas gone dry from exposure to
the air.
    “ Fuck!” Caleb blinked rapidly, tears
washing over his eyes for lubrication. Vision blurred, a smear of
colors, then came slowly into focus.
    A pair of women’s shoes stood on the filthy
floor in front of him. He lifted his gaze slowly, past dark-skinned
calves and an expensive skirt, to find Tiffany Ward staring back at
him with shocked eyes.
    “ Never mind,” she said into the cell
phone against her ear. “The situation has changed. I’ll call you
back.”

Chapter 8
     
    “ Agent Ward?” What the hell was she
doing here? For that matter, what was he doing here?
    She watched warily as Caleb shoved himself
first to his elbows, then to his knees. He was in a house, warped
boards beneath him, the stink of mold mingling with the savory
scent of ghouls to make his stomach cramp.
    God, he was hungry.
    The house. Right. John planned to exorcise
him. But John had disappeared. There was only Tiffany. And blood—a
big pool of it on the floor. His mouth tasted of rust, like he’d
been sucking on one of the iron gates surrounding the houses in the
historic district. Raising his hand, he touched his face, found
something congealed and tacky against his skin. “What
happened?”
    “ A bullet entered our skull
at the base. We sustained a great deal of damage, and it took time
to heal, especially as we have not fed for a while.” Shame. “I do not know what happened
otherwise. Keeping you with me took all of my concentration. I am
sorry.”
    “ Somebody shot us in the back of the
head,” he said numbly. Fuck, his pronouns were slipping, and in
front of an agent, even.
    An agent. A SPECTR agent. Oh hell.
    “ You did this!” he accused, scooting
back from her. “Where’s John? If you’ve—”
    “ Having your brains scrambled must have
taken off a few IQ points,” she said, lip curling slightly. “Sean
shot you.”
    “ Sean?” No way. “He and John are best
friends. He wouldn’t.”
    Tiffany shrugged, her long braids whispering
against the expensive fabric of her suit. “Forsyth must have gotten
to him. Once we heard you broke out, we tried to put a tail on
John, but he was already gone. I knew if he’d told anyone else
about his plans, it would be Sean, so we watched him instead. Sure
enough, he led us straight here. A few minutes after you three went
in, SPECTR vans surrounded the place. They dragged John out at
gunpoint. Sean wasn’t under guard, and climbed in one of the vans
without any signs of coercion. Make of it what you will.”
    Caleb rubbed at his eyes. A part of his mind
babbled over and over again he’d been shot in the fucking head. He
shoved it aside; turning into a gibbering heap wouldn’t help anyone
right now. “John. Where did they take him? Is he okay?”
    “ He just saw his best friend shoot his
boyfriend in the back of the head. If he’s okay with that, you
seriously need to trade up.”
    Oh, God. Caleb sagged against the