Chapter 10 #4
In a rapid-fire motion, I cast two more leash spells; with one, I ripped the gun free from his hands and lashed it to the ceiling, and the other I wrapped around his body, locking his arms and legs together before sending him tumbling to the floor.
I hoped it hurt like hell.
Ginny’s screech had me looking up—just in time to see Cathy lunging at me with a knife.
I pushed back hard, then grabbed the nearby chair and pulled it down between us.
The blade sank into the padded cushion rather than my flesh, but Cathy didn’t get a chance to pull it free and strike again.
Ginny had silently shifted shape behind her and wrapped a hand around the other woman’s neck while keeping out of stabbing range.
“Lose the weapon now,” she said, in a flat, deadly voice, “or the talon that sits at your jugular will rip your fucking neck apart.”
The knife clattered to the ground, but Ginny didn’t immediately release her, her gaze meeting mine. “You okay?”
“A bullet clipped my right calf, but other than that, yeah.”
“Good. You want to leash her?”
“I won’t—” Cathy stopped and gulped as Ginny pressed her claw a little harder into the woman’s neck. Blood trickled from the wound.
“Why on earth would we believe you, given my partner here saved your stupid life and you repaid the favor by trying to kill her? You’ll be fucking lucky to get out of jail before you’re ninety.”
Cathy’s eyes widened, but she didn’t say anything. I cast another leash spell, wound it up her body, then motioned for Ginny to release her. Once she had, I wound the rest of my leash up Cathy’s face, magically gagging her—a neat trick Samuel taught me years ago.
“Okay, she’s leashed and silenced. You want to call it in? I’ll check on the felon missing the eye, then go through her files upstairs.”
No need came Atticus’s comment. I have taken care of the third fellow—
“Did you smite him?” I asked aloud, as he was broadcasting wide again. “Because that sure was one hell of a magical battle going on up there.”
He is not dead, though he may wish to be right now.
“Why?” Ginny said. “What did you do?”
I may have sunk a claw or two into his more delicate parts.
I laughed, pushed to my feet, and almost immediately went down again as pain shot up my leg.
The only reason I didn’t end up on the floor was because I grabbed the edge of the desk.
I hissed and glanced down at my leg; the back of my jeans was sodden with blood, and every nerve ending burned.
I swore, sat down on the desk’s top, and reached into my handbag for the souped-up painkillers the hospital had given me, but I hadn’t really used.
“How about you sit there, keep that leg elevated, and call it in while I head upstairs and help Atticus search her files?”
I nodded and swallowed the tablets dry. Ginny walked around the desks to check the two men. The one I’d bound was alive and kicking—or at least trying to—but the other... he wasn’t moving. Didn’t seem to be breathing, either.
Ginny knelt beside him, pressed two fingers against his bloodied neck, then grimaced. “Looks like I got a little too deep with a claw. DOA, I’m afraid.”
“It’s not your fault. They were trying to kill us, after all.”
“Oh, I know that. I’m just thinking of all the paperwork.”
While it was lightly said, I knew her well enough to understand the death would haunt her. Hawks were by nature killers, but they were also very deliberate in their kills, and this unintended mistake was one she would replay and worry over.
“This death is not your fault,” I repeated softly. “And your actions saved my life.”
“I know. It’s just—” She shrugged, gave me a quick, slightly tense smile, then rose and headed out of the room.
I sucked in a breath, silently wished the painkillers would hurry up and kick in, then started making calls.
I didn’t bother removing Cathy’s gag and trying to question her—it was pretty obvious she couldn’t be trusted—but I did search the few desk drawers I could reach.
Unfortunately, there was nothing to be found other than the usual business invoices for lights, heating, etc.
, as well as invoices and payment receipts for the legit part of her business.
Obviously, the receipts from the other half of her contracting business were kept hidden in the upstairs office.
Cathy was making frustrated sounds by the time the medics and the Society team turned up, but I continued to ignore her.
“Hey Hanna,” Tony said as he, Leonie, and a third man I didn’t recognize but who was clearly with them came through the broken back door. “What are we dealing with this time?”
“Three captives and one dead man.”
“Crime?”
“You been briefed on the recent attack on Monica?” When he nodded, I added, “Cathy here is the agent responsible for arranging the contract for the two men to become demon fodder. The dead man, and the two other men—one of them is unconscious upstairs—were sent by the contractor to kill Cathy and destroy any evidence.”
“At the rate you’re going,” Leonie said, kneeling beside the leashed shooter and quickly cuffing him, “we’re not going to have any room in the cells. You want to release him?”
I did so, and once Cathy was also cuffed released her as well. The minute the gag came off, she started abusing everyone. Tony raised an eyebrow and glanced at me. “You want to re-gag her? I really don’t fancy having to listen to that shit all the way back to the office.”
“How long will it take you to get back? I’ll add a time frame to the spell so you can question her later.”
“Make it an hour. Gives us time to process her. We’ve another team coming in to process the site and gather evidence. You might need to get that leg looked at, too—you’re bleeding all over the floor.”
I glanced down and saw that it was true. “It looks worse than it is.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” the third man said and motioned me to shift around so he could properly examine the wound.
He placed a medical bag on the desk, then grabbed a pair of scissors from it and sliced my jeans from cuff to knee. After exchanging the scissors for hand sanitizer, he began his examination, his touch light but electric, making my skin prickle and burn.
It was a reaction to the magic he was using rather than his touch, and surprise rippled through me. “You’re an energy healer?”
Energy healing—or energy medicine, as it was more formally called—was a rare and much-sought-after ability that allowed the healing of wounds with a combination of the witch’s empathic, astral, mental, or spiritual energy.
“I am.”
It was absentmindedly said; his attention was more on the wound.
“Why the hell are you working for the Brisbane sub-office?”
He glanced at me, his smile reaching his silvery-blue eyes, a stark contrast to his dark skin and hair.
He might be a Sarr witch, but there was human deep in his background somewhere.
“I work for the head office rather than the Brissie sub, and was sent up here by your brother with strict instructions to patch you up and keep you going.”
“Seriously?”
“I wouldn’t be up here if I wasn’t. He said you’re obviously having one of those weeks, and he wanted to keep you in one piece so you could attend the twins’ birthday next week.”
I smiled. Big brother was worried about me, in other words. “None of that explains why you’re working for the Society in the first place. Energy healers can practically name their own price, and hospitals, private or not, would pay it.”
His magic was digging deeper into my skin, making my muscles twitch and dance, but he nevertheless looked up again, the smile in his eyes deeper. “If I say I feel it’s my patriotic duty, would you believe me?”
“If it’s the truth, yes.”
He laughed and returned his attention back to my leg. “It is, but the money is also a factor—the Society is extremely generous, and not just payment wise. I’m Gerard, by the way.”
“Hanna, as you obviously know. Why haven’t I seen you about before now?”
He half shrugged. “I’m only one person, and I’m generally sent to the investigations where the casualties are mounting up. Obviously, despite what your brother implied, your previous missions have not resulted in too much bodily damage.”
“Bruising and sprains not being counted as damage, I gather?”
“You gather right.”
“Huh.”
He continued to work, and, after a few minutes, the pain eased to a dull ache. He sat back on his heels with a sigh. His skin, I noticed, had taken on a slightly ashen hue, suggesting healing my wound had taken a lot out of him. Which, by association, meant that it had been worse than I’d presumed.
“Okay, you’ll need to take it easy for the next few hours—no walking about on it too much—to give the healing time to stick, but you should be right after that.”
“Thank you.”
“Pleasure. Let’s hope we don’t have to meet again.” He hesitated. “Michael bid me to pass on the warning to not rush in where fools dare to tread on this one.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m a field agent—rushing in when the situation warrants it is what we do.”
“Which is exactly what he said you’d say, and why I’m sticking around for the next few days.”
“Well, let’s just hope that your services are not required.”
“From your lips to God’s ears.”
With a smile and a goodbye nod, he grabbed his kit, then walked over to the two regular medics. More Society people arrived just as Ginny returned. She gave them a brief rundown of the situation and then walked across to me. “Come on, let’s get you back to the car.”
I accepted the hand she gave me, rolled upright, and hopped down onto my good foot. With her help, I made it to the car, but I was damn well sweating and slightly nauseous by the time I got there. Either the healing had sapped my strength, or the blood loss had.
I collapsed into the passenger seat, did up my seat belt, then, once Ginny was in the driver’s seat, handed her the key fob. “So what did you find upstairs? Anything of use?”
“It wasn’t Lanie who contracted the men. It was Stephan.”