Supernatural Security Force the Complete Series, page 61
part #1 of Books 1-5 Series
“Raguel is not the majority.” Her eyes glinted sharply.
“Azrael doesn’t involve himself in the politics of the council,” I said.
“That’s mostly true,” she agreed slowly. “He prefers to go around the system rather than through it. But the council has voted, and thanks to a majority, your charges have been dropped. You’ll be reinstated to detective. If you want it.”
“Voted?” I echoed. “But how? When?”
“The moment Selaphiel left, there was a special conclave. In secret. A vote made contingent upon your success tonight.”
My jaw dropped. “So everyone knew what we were doing, and they didn’t come to help?”
“The politics of Nephilim are complicated. You had Jophiel. And Raphziel. And Adrik,” she added.
But not Azrael. Not really. Unless you counted Z.
And certainly not Raguel.
I wasn’t surprised.
“I’ve been put in charge of SSF operations indefinitely,” she added, which only made me more curious about all I’d missed while in hiding. No wonder Rigo had taken her orders. “You’d report to me, ultimately. And you wouldn’t have to hide that anymore. Although, I do still have a few assignments I’d like you to do off the books.”
Of course, she did.
“You’d be a detective,” she added.
“I . . . don’t know what to say.”
“Say yes.” She shrugged. “Unless you have something better planned.”
For some reason, I felt like she meant Adrik.
But what did she expect? That we’d run off into the sunset together? Get married? Have two point five kids and a dog?
That future wasn’t mine.
Then again, I’d caught Dad’s killer.
Brought her to justice, in a sense.
And cleared my name. And his.
What was left for me at the SSF now? Especially knowing he’d never wanted me there in the first place.
“She’ll take it.”
Gran’s voice was loud in my ear as she landed on the brick ledge beside me.
“Gran, this is a private conversation,” I protested.
“Yes, and you were ruining it,” she shot back. She looked at Starla. “She’ll take the job.”
“No, I won’t.”
“The hell you won’t, child. Don’t be slow with me.”
“I’m not being . . . Look, Dad didn’t even want me to take that job in the first place. And now that his killer has been dealt with, there’s nothing for me there.”
“Bull shit,” Gran said. “Your father wanted you safe. He didn’t want you going to work for crooked people. He wanted better for you. And you’ve already made it better. Why stop now?” She glanced at Starla then back at me. “We both know there’s still corruption to be dealt with. And sometimes your father thought like a detective, but when it came to you, he thought like a dad. He would never want you in harm’s way—but if he were here now, to see what you’re capable of, he’d never tell you to walk away from what you’re meant to do.”
“How do you know I’m meant to do this?”
“Because I’ve watched you stand at death’s door and not even flinch. Hell, I’ve watched you walk right over the threshold. You get your crazy from me,” she added, and then more seriously, “Because you’re the bravest woman I know. And because even with half a dozen Nephs on this planet, you were the one that brought justice to your father’s legacy. Now it’s your turn to bring justice to someone else out there who needs it. Don’t waste that shit. Your father’s soul will understand.”
My heart swelled as I thought over her words.
Starla stood quiet as I mulled it over, but the answer came to me like a flash in the darkness. Gran was right. Not that I wanted to tell her so. Still, I couldn’t deny what I’d become. Besides, there were plenty more assholes in the chain of command to take down.
“Okay,” I told Starla. “I’ll do it.”
She smiled softly. “I’m glad to hear it. You can report Monday morning to the Delta building.”
“Thank you.” I started to turn away, a little shell-shocked by this turn of events. But Starla wasn’t finished.
“Gem, there’s one more thing.”
I turned back. “Let me guess,” I said. “My next assignment for the elusive Azrael.”
She nodded, but the pleasure had vanished from her eyes. Instead, she looked . . . wary.
“What is it?” I asked, not sure I wanted to hear the answer.
“As you know, the supernatural community has become quite stirred up by the recent rash of demon activity.”
“The demons are under control now,” I pointed out.
“Yes, but the aftermath of the threat they posed is not.” She cleared her throat and glanced at Gran.
“You can speak in front of her,” I said.
Not like Gran was going to leave if I asked her to.
“Very well. There is a small group of supernaturals who think the Nephilim have, shall we say, overstayed their welcome. That their very presence here is to blame for the demons who attack. There are whispers of an uprising. And we’re looking into several persons of interest who may be facilitating this uprising.”
“You’d like me to investigate these persons of interest?”
“Faith has a list of a few she’s already surveilling for us. There’s just one we’d like you to focus on for now.”
My belly tightened. “What’s the name?”
She hesitated, and that, more than anything, sent alarm bells ringing. Of all the dangerous, nefarious assignments Starla had given me, none of them had made her look quite so nervous.
“Starla, what’s the name?” I repeated, impatient to finish this and get back to my friends. To tell them the good news. To celebrate the fact that we’d lived through this night.
“His name is Jax McGuire,” Starla said. “And we’ll need you to spy on his every move.”
DEAD TO RIGHTS
CHAPTER ONE
The male security guard glanced at my badge, frowned, and looked back at my face again. I focused on the Delta insignia sewn into his uniform and tried to look like I was supposed to be here. I’d never seen him before, nor did a single face in this bustling lobby look familiar, but nerves left me trembling where I stood. Level ten demons could storm the damn place, and I’d be less terrified of fighting them than I was of making it past the turnstiles just ahead.
If my racing heart put him off, the security guard didn’t react. After another cursory look at my picture, he grunted, handed me back the official SSF ID card Starla had messengered over to me last night, and waved me forward.
I exhaled.
Not a single word had been exchanged between us, but he’d just given me the keys to the kingdom. Just like that, I’d become the thing I’d wanted to be most in the world.
An SSF agent.
Okay, maybe not “just like that” when you considered the months of training, the whole being on the run thing, and vanquishing a bitchy Nephilim who stood in my way.
But I was here.
I’d made it.
Feeling like a damned winner, I marched through the metal detectors that weren’t so much about detecting weapons as they were spelled to strip glamours or anything magic-and-nefarious.
I hesitated out of habit. But, unlike last time, nothing happened as I crossed the barrier.
Then, with an exhale of relief and a bit of gut-tightening as I remembered my last visit here, I pushed my way through the turnstiles and hurried for the elevators.
It was hard to believe only days had passed since sending Selaphiel through a portal to Hell. Okay, honestly, I had no idea where we’d sent her, but I was hoping for someplace terrible. The days since had been quiet by contrast. Too quiet.
After all that time running and fighting, maybe I needed the rest. But all it had done was wind me up even tighter. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. And in the meantime, that terrifying moment kept playing on a loop in my head.
Jax ripping out Adrik’s throat.
Sure, he’d done it to save me. Or that’s what he’d thought. But I couldn’t make myself see past what he’d done. I’d woken from nightmares about it every night since. And being here now, in this place where an enemy still lurked, only set me more on edge.
This wasn’t over yet.
But we’d made progress.
At least, this time, when I visited the upper floors of the Delta building, otherwise known as the headquarters for the Supernatural Security Force, I would do it as a legit employee. No warrants. No Nephilim trying to kill me.
Just Gem Hawkins, detective, reporting for duty.
The whole thing seemed so normal after everything else, though a little bittersweet.
I stepped inside the elevator, crowding in with others who were mostly dressed in the SSF patrol uniform, and thought of my father. Vic Hawkins, senior detective. He’d walked these same halls every day of his career. Probably knew some of the people I was currently forced to cuddle with inside the cramped space.
Everything I did today, he’d already done.
And now I was here, honoring his legacy. And cherishing his memory.
My chest swelled and ached as I thought of him.
Loneliness hit me, and I sucked in a sharp breath that pricked at my ribs. My father’s death—no, murder—had set all of this in motion. But I was no longer angry about it. Too much good had happened, too. I’d found his killer. And I’d found Adrik.
That might have made me feel better if he’d actually called me since the other night. But, so far, nothing.
At first, I’d chalked it up to healing. Of course. Jax had done a number on him. Even with Raphziel’s Nephilim healing power bringing him back, he’d been weak. Tired.
He needed rest.
But that was days ago. What the hell was his excuse now?
The possible answers terrified me. What if he’d decided not to call me anymore? What if he’d changed his mind about me?
I was too much of a coward to find out, and so I hadn’t called him either.
Finally, the elevator doors opened on the sixteenth floor, and half the occupants spilled out. When I finally managed to wedge free and step out into the hall, a familiar face waited for me, scowling in his trademark douchebag glare.
“Good morning, Rigo,” I said with all of the fake, sugary politeness this moment deserved.
“You’re late,” he said flatly. “Let’s go.”
“Whoa. I’m not going anywhere with you,” I said, planting my feet as the last remnants of my excitement melted away. His was not the face I wanted for my welcoming committee.
He turned back, his scowl pinching his brows and mouth. “Don’t start with me, Hawkins. It’s too damn early for your petulance.”
“Petulance?” I huffed. “You have some fucking nerve. Listen, just because I’m a detective, despite your best efforts to the contrary, does not automatically mean I have to take orders from you.”
“And that’s where you’re wrong.” His eyes gleamed with fresh enjoyment. This dude was pure fucking douchebag, professional level. “As I am the head detective for the Quarter, and you’ve been assigned to my division, that’s exactly what it means.”
My jaw dropped.
No fucking way. Of all of the supervisors I could have been assigned, Starla had put me with Rigo, the guy who’d heard the phrase “copping a feel” and taken it so literally he’d gone into law enforcement? There had to be some mistake.
“I need to speak to Starla,” I growled.
“Be my guest. She’s waiting for you in orientation now.”
I took a deep, steadying breath that would hopefully center me enough that I wouldn’t nut-punch this asshole right here in the foyer of my new workplace.
“Where is that happening?” I asked through clenched teeth.
He waved his arm in the direction he’d already tried leading me. The gesture was dramatic and smug as hell. “Right this way…cadet.”
I rolled my eyes, cinched my bag higher on my shoulder, and followed him into my career.
Rigo led me down a short hall that quickly opened up into a large, open space that made up almost half the floor. The outer walls were floor-to-ceiling glass and overlooked the city, offering a view high enough to show only the shiny parts of what awaited below.
But I didn’t linger too long on the view out there. It was the view inside that mattered most to me today.
As the sunlight caught on chrome clipboards and swivel chairs, I stopped and stared at the sight before me. Gleaming linoleum and rows of utilitarian desks as far as the eye could see. This was it. The sixteenth floor. The big leagues. I’d finally made it. I inhaled, anticipating the scent of victory, but all that filled my nostrils was the stale smell of burnt coffee and a faint whiff of animal.
“Are you coming, or should I ask the head of the SSF to hold your orientation meeting here in the doorway?”
My gaze snapped over to where Rigo waited impatiently.
“Keep your panties on,” I muttered and resumed my little game of follow the pervy leader.
In my head, I thought of all of the creative names Gran would call him if she were here. It hadn’t been easy to make her promise to stay home today, and I knew she wouldn’t stay away for long.
Gran’s commentary was distracting at best. At worst, she’d head right into danger alongside me, and I’d put my loved ones at risk too often lately.
One day.
Hopefully, she’d give me that.
At the back of the room, Rigo stopped and gestured for me to enter the office where the interior view was currently obscured by closed blinds. The layout reminded me a lot of Division 13 and Harvey’s smokey, stale space where he’d first welcomed me into the SSF. Except cleaner, fresher, and with slightly more violence coursing through me than before. Probably because Rigo kept looking at my chest.
I ignored him and looked over at my new boss.
Starla sat behind a large, glass-top desk, her plum suit and charcoal heels definitely a contrasting look to Rigo’s wrinkled slacks and faded polo. It might have been empowering, seeing a woman at the helm of an agency as large and important as the SSF, but Starla wasn’t just a woman. And we weren’t here to fight the patriarchy. No, we were up against something a hell of a lot worse. And I still wasn’t entirely convinced I could trust her.
“Good morning, Gem. Have a seat.”
Starla gestured to a trio of chairs, one of which Milo already occupied.
“Hey, partner,” he said brightly.
Rigo didn’t wait for his own invitation before dropping into the one closest to the door. I took the middle spot, scooting it as far from Rigo as possible before perching tentatively against the seat.
Milo held out his hand for a fist bump.
“Where were you? I thought we were driving over together?” I whispered, tapping my knuckles with his.
“I made a friend last night. Stayed in the Quarter,” he said with a wink.
I shook my head. Was it a tradition with Milo to have a one-night stand the night before starting a new job? It was a question for later—if I dared even ask it. Maybe I didn’t want to know.
“Feels good to be on the inside looking out, eh?” he added.
“I have lots of feelings,” I muttered, aiming a disdainful glare at Rigo. “Not all of them good.”
Milo snorted, but I looked up at Starla, half-hoping this was all some kind of ruse to lure Rigo to his own firing squad. But when our eyes met, Starla’s smile flashed quickly and then was gone.
She was all business.
And none of it seemed to be about putting Rigo in his place.
“Welcome to you both. I know you’re anxious to get to work, but this won’t take long,” she began. “As you’re both aware, since the agency’s inception, the detective branch of the SSF has operated as an elite division of justice enforcement and peacekeepers among the supernatural community,” Starla said, her voice taking on a sort of historian-lecturer quality. “It’s both an honor and a great responsibility to be selected and promoted to the position of detective. In fact, there is no higher honor at the SSF than that of the protector.”
I settled into my chair, sure this was going to turn into a full history class now.
Rigo already looked bored.
“Because we employ only the most skilled agents within the walls of this department, we take on only the most urgent and important cases,” she went on, and something about her tone sharpened my attention. This was going somewhere—and with Starla, probably somewhere I wouldn’t like.
“Does that explain why no one wanted to investigate my dad’s death?” I asked. “It wasn’t important?”
Starla blinked.
Rigo muttered something I decided not to decipher.
“Uh, Gem,” Milo began, “I don’t think that’s what she—”
“As a matter of fact.” She reached over and picked up a file from her desk, holding it out to me.
“What’s this?”
“See for yourself.”
I took the file and read the name. Victor Hawkins.
My gaze snapped back to Starla’s.
“I’d like you to do the final paperwork on this one,” she said.
“Seriously?” I asked.
She shrugged. “You know the case better than anyone.”
I looked back and forth between her and Rigo.
“It’s paperwork,” he said smugly. “On a closed case. Not exactly the big leagues.”
“A closed case you couldn’t solve,” I pointed out and earned myself a scowl. I looked back at Starla. “Thank you for this.” I took the file. “And while I do appreciate it, what’s the trade-off?”
She laughed, clearly not offended. “You know me well.” But her smile vanished quickly, and I noted the tension lining her expression. If I hadn’t worked with her before, I might have missed the barely-there worry in the line of her brow. “The fact is, Selaphiel’s disappearance hasn’t gone unnoticed. Nor have the diminishing numbers of true demons. Our people know something went down, and they feel deceived.”
“They know there’s a cover-up,” Milo said.
