Defeat the Darkness (Paladins of Darkness 6) Page 2

  “Like hell you do!”

  Some of the steam went out of Devlin’s fury. He leaned back in his chair and stared at Hunter for a few seconds. “Maybe you’re right, but you need to understand that things are different for us. I hate those crazy fuckers that attack every time the barrier goes down as much as the next guy. But around here, we consider the Kalith warriors like Barak, Lusahn, and Larem our friends and allies. All of them have risked their own necks to save lives—Paladin lives.”

  “So what? It’s not like that evens the score.”

  Devlin shoved his chair back and stalked around to Hunter’s side of the desk. “Lose the fucking attitude, Hunter, or I will personally stuff your worthless carcass on the next plane back to St. Louis!”

  Hunter clenched his fists, but he held himself back. “Look, I’ll try. Just don’t shove them in my face.”

  “Shouldn’t be a problem. I’m shipping your ass north of here.”

  Devlin reached across his desk, pulled a folded map out of the top drawer, and spread it out. He pointed to a spot on the enlarged map of the city.

  “We’re here in our headquarters located in the Seattle Underground. The barrier stretches through under the city here and here. The closer you get to the volcanoes, the more unstable it becomes. And just to make things more interesting, we’ve got tectonic plates crashing into each other right offshore.”

  Where was all of this headed? “Thanks for the geology lesson.”

  “Smart-ass,” Devlin said with no real heat. “We do our best to guard the area, but you know there are never enough of us to go around. That means some spots are vulnerable.”

  He flipped the map over to show the entire state of Washington. “We’ve found out that there has been movement going in both directions across the barrier. Greedy bastards on both sides are making money at the cost of lives of our people and theirs.”

  Hunter didn’t much care how many crazy Others died—or Kalith warriors, for that matter. He kept that little bit of information to himself, figuring it wouldn’t pay to antagonize Bane any more than he already had. “Where do I fit in?”

  Devlin pointed at a second spot some distance north of Seattle. “You may not have heard that one of my men spent some time on the other side of the barrier. While he was there, he discovered a small stretch of barrier we didn’t know about. Evidently it’s barely wide enough for two men to pass through shoulder-to-shoulder. To make matters worse, we have no idea how unstable the barrier is along there. What we do know is there’s clear evidence that humans have been crossing there on a regular basis. But again, no idea how many or who. I haven’t had anyone to post up there to keep an eye on things.” Devlin looked up from the map with grim satisfaction. “But now I have you.”

  His phone rang again. While Devlin took the call, Hunter mulled over everything he’d been saying. They’d all seen Devlin’s pet Other when Devlin had brought Barak q’Young with him, back when Trahern had been in Missouri. If Jarvis had known anything about Paladins crossing to the other side of the barrier, he hadn’t said anything. What kind of crazy SOB would’ve done something like that?

  When Devlin hung up the phone, Hunter asked, “So you want me to drive up there and take a look around?”

  “No, we’ve done that. I want you to live up there for a while and assess the situation. You’ll report directly to me. If you can’t or won’t handle the assignment, maybe I can find something else for you to do at headquarters. Take tonight to think about it and get back to me in the morning.”

  Hunter already knew what his answer would be, but there was no sense in rushing things. Might as well let Devlin sweat a bit. Earlier he had taken Hunter on a brief tour of the underground complex, as well as the admin building where the Handlers and the guards were stationed. Hunter’s nerves were stretched to the breaking point from all those faces staring at him and pretending they hadn’t noticed his limp.

  The farther he got away from his own kind the better. Doc Crosby had warned him, though, that Paladins never fared well far from the barrier. This small bit of territory that Devlin was willing to cede to Hunter’s care might just help him hold it together long enough to figure out what to do with the rest of his worthless life.

  He gripped the wolf head on his cane and prepared to leave. “I’ll check in with you in the morning.”

  “Not so fast. I promised Laurel that I’d invite you over for dinner tonight. Trahern and Brenna will be the only other two there, if that makes a difference.” Devlin’s face flushed a bit. “I should warn you, Laurel can’t cook for shit, but don’t let that stop you.”

  “This Laurel, is she the same Handler who helped save Trahern from the needle?”

  “Yeah, she’s the one.”

  Laurel’s progressive attitudes had filtered their way through to other Handlers, including Doc Crosby. “Then I’ll come. For her, I’d choke down dog food with a smile on my face.”

  Devlin nodded, muttering something under his breath that sounded a lot like “you might have to,” then scribbled down directions and his address. “We’ll eat around six. Call if you need a ride.”

  “Thanks. I’ll see you at dinner.”

  It was only early afternoon, leaving Hunter with hours to kill. He’d spent most of his time on the airplane studying a guide book of Seattle that Jarvis had bought for him. If memory served, he was only a few blocks away from the waterfront. The walk would do him good and get him away from the prying eyes of the Paladins and everyone else who worked for the Regents.

  Eventually he might have to get to know them, but not right now.

  Trahern popped the cap off his beer and took a long drink. “Think Fitzsimon will show?”

  “I don’t know. He did seem more interested when he realized Laurel was the Handler who helped save your worthless ass. He might stand you and me up, but I suspect he’ll show up for her.”

  “Last time I talked to Jarvis, he was pretty closemouthed about Fitzsimon’s problems.” Trahern looked at Devlin, obviously waiting for him to fill in the blanks.

  “All I can say is that this guy’s problems make Penn Sebastian’s seem like a walk in the park.” Devlin adjusted the controls on the grill. “I know more. I won’t say more.”

  The sliding screen door opened. Hunter glared at Devlin and then Trahern as he stepped out onto the deck. “It’s nice to know you’re a man of your word. My business is exactly that—my business.”

  “Fine by me.” Trahern leaned over to snag another beer out of the cooler, then held it out. “Here.”

  Hunter accepted the drink and sat down. “Nice view.”

  “Thanks. I’m going to hate putting this place on the market.” Devlin busied himself with straightening his barbeque tools.

  “Why do it then?” Hunter picked up a handful of chips.

  “Eventually the neighbors are going to notice that I haven’t aged in all the years I’ve owned it. It’s bound to draw unwanted attention.”

  Trahern looked around, a thoughtful expression on his face. “I’ll probably have to do that myself one of these days.”

  Time to change the subject. “How do you like your steak, Hunter?” Devlin asked.

  “Bloody and still mooing.”

  “That makes three of us. Brenna and Laurel like theirs a little less raw.”

  The screen door opened a second time, and two women joined them outside. “Talking about us again?”

  Hunter studied them. Both were attractive but in different ways. As soon as Laurel got close to Devlin, the Paladin leader slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her in close. Lucky bastard, he was the first Paladin to ever dare date a Handler. When Hunter had first heard the rumors, he’d been surprised that the Regents had allowed the relationship to continue. Now that he’d seen the two together, he realized the Regents must have figured they’d stood to lose both Devlin and Laurel if they’d pushed it. The two were very obviously in love.

  The same with Brenna and Trahern, but Hunter had alre
ady seen them together back in Missouri. She’d fought tooth and nail to drag her man back from insanity. Hunter liked that about her. He wondered if she know that Jake had a bit of a crush on her. Hunter figured it had started when from the two of them had been shot at the same time.

  Laurel smiled at Hunter. “As soon as the steaks are done, we’ll be ready to eat.”

  “Sounds good.” He wasn’t much for etiquette these days, but for Laurel and Brenna he’d make the effort. “Thank you for inviting me over.”

  “You’re welcome.” Brenna gave him a warm smile. “How are all the John Does doing these days?”

  It took him a minute to remember that was the name Jarvis had told her to call all of the Paladins in Missouri when Trahern had breached security and brought her inside the compound without any authorization. Even if her late father had been one of the Regents, outsiders weren’t allowed in the underground facility.

  “They’re all fine; Jake sends his regards. He said to tell you that his computer game is about to be released. He’ll be sending you one of the first copies.”

  He eyed Trahern briefly before adding, “The dragon Jake named after you is a real beauty. It even has your coloring.”

  Her face lit up. “He shouldn’t have done that.”

  She was clearly pleased, even if Trahern wasn’t. He grabbed Brenna’s hand and tugged her onto his lap. “That’s right. He shouldn’t have.”

  Devlin laughed and pointed his tongs at Hunter. “You might want to warn your friend that Trahern doesn’t share.”

  Laurel rolled her eyes. “For Pete’s sake, it’s just a dragon. I think it’s sweet.”

  Devlin planted a quick kiss on her cheek, then started piling an obscene amount of barely cooked beef on a platter. “These are done. Let’s eat.”

  Hunter followed them inside and took the place at the end of the table, uncomfortably aware that he was the odd man out. He’d been feeling that way a lot lately.

  Tate Justice pulled back her lace curtain and looked outside to check the weather. It was misty and cool. Perfect. Maybe it was selfish of her to wish for light rain every day, but her business thrived when the weather drove people inside. When it was hot and sunny, she sat inside her tea shop all day by herself. On the other hand, that gave her more time to work on her book.

  She poured herself a second cup of coffee, her secret sin. She might run a small tea shop, but she liked a good French roast with her morning granola. Sometimes she thought it was a bit sad that her worst vice was coffee. However, living as she did in the small community of Justice Point, there weren’t all that many opportunities for sin.

  Her daily to-do list was filled with the mundane activities of a small business owner and wanna-be writer. She read over today’s list: check stock and call in an order for more tea, sweep the hardwood floors in the shop, do some laundry, and write her daily allotment of pages. Oh, yes, and pay the bills.

  That last one had been carried over from the day before and the day before that. She’d run out of both excuses and time. She knew she had enough to cover all the bills, but after the past few weeks of particularly nice weather, it was a tight squeeze.

  If only a tenant would magically appear for the furnished apartment over the garage. She’d posted it for rent a month ago, but so far there had been no takers. Most of the locals were too elderly to handle the stairs, and the village was too far from the bus route to the nearest college town to make it convenient for a student.

  Someone would come along eventually. She didn’t absolutely need the money, but it would give her budget a bit more breathing room. Sighing, she reached for the stack of bills and her checkbook. As painful as it would be, at least she’d be able to start her day with a clear conscience.

  When Tate unlocked the front door of her tea shop on the first floor of her Victorian home, three of her favorite customers were already waiting for her. Collectively known as the Auntie Ms, Madge, Margaret, and Mabel were three elderly sisters who lived down the road. No one in Justice Point knew exactly how old they were, and Tate wasn’t about to ask. Two of them were twins, though all three women looked enough alike that sometimes it was hard to tell them apart.

  “Good morning, dear. Here are some of those cookies you like so much.” Mabel shoved a plate into Tate’s hands before heading for the sisters’ favorite table in the shop.

  “You shouldn’t have.”

  She meant it. The sisters had to pool their limited resources just to get by. But no amount of arguing would stop them from making cookies for everyone in town. Tate made it up to them by sending them home with soup and other staples as often as they would let her. She understood pride and tried her best not to offend them.

  The twins filed in behind Mabel, moving a bit slower with their matching walkers. When the trio was settled, Tate brought them a pot of their favorite tea and the morning paper. As usual, the Auntie Ms squabbled over who got first crack at the front page.

  Tate swept the large front porch and fluffed the cushions of the wicker furniture scattered along its length. The checkers box was looking a bit ragged, and she made a mental note to bring out one of her empty tins to replace it. Nothing flowery or she’d get complaints from the two gentlemen who spent their afternoons trying to best each other at their favorite game.

  Satisfied that everything was in order, she went back inside and started checking her inventory and making out her supply order. When that was done, she pulled out her laptop to edit the pages she’d written the day before. The hero was about to ride in and rescue the heroine from the villain. As a reader, she hated wishy-washy women and made sure the heroine was on the verge of saving herself already.

  “Tate, dear, I think you have a customer.”

  Normally, Tate would’ve finished the sentence she was working on, but the excitement in Mabel’s voice jarred her completely out of the story, derailing her train of thought.

  Whatever had caught the attention of the Auntie Ms had them all sitting up straight and staring out the window. Tate couldn’t quite hear what they were saying, but they reminded her of a flock of house finches twittering over the approach of a cat.

  Tate came around the counter to get a better look but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Before she could ask what was going on, the back doorbell rang. That was odd. The locals all knew to come around to the shop entrance.

  “I’ll be back, ladies,” Tate told the sisters.

  “Take your time, dear,” Margaret said.

  “Yes, all the time you need,” Mabel added with a definite twinkle in her faded blue eyes.

  “We certainly would.”

  That last remark came from Madge, which set all three of them off in a fit of giggles. What on earth had gotten into them?

  The bell rang twice more before she made it to the door. Somebody was in a hurry. She turned the old-fashioned key to unlock the door and opened it to find nobody there. She stepped out on the back porch to look around, wondering if some tourist’s kids were playing around.

  Then she saw him. That was definitely no child. A man, easily several inches over six feet tall, was walking around toward the front of the house. She noticed he favored his right leg, but it didn’t detract one iota from the impression of overwhelming masculinity.

  She tried to speak, meaning to call him back, but all she managed was a squeak. Evidently that was enough, because he immediately spun around and headed straight for her, radiating aggression as he stalked back to where she stood. She instinctively backed up a step, but then stopped and held her ground.

  He smirked at her reaction.

  She’d see what the jerk wanted and then send him on his way with good riddance. “Can I help you?” she said.

  He stopped a few feet from the porch. “That depends. Are you the owner?”

  His voice was painfully hoarse, sounding like rough sandpaper, sending shivers through her. “Yes, I’m Tate Justice.”

  “Then you can help me. I saw your ad for the apartm
ent. I want to rent it.”

  Oh, no. The first serious looker she’d had, and it had to be this guy. “You haven’t seen it yet.”

  He quirked an eyebrow. “Are there any other places for rent in town?”

  “Well, no.”

  “Then it doesn’t matter what it looks like, does it?” He reached for his wallet and pulled out a wad of cash. “I believe the ad said first and last months’ rent.”

  Visions of a balanced budget with a bit of cushion danced through her head before common sense took over. This guy was hardly what she’d had in mind when she’d run the advertisement. Even so, what grounds did she have to refuse him?

  “Do you have any references?”

  “No.”

  She studied his ragged jeans and the faded flannel shirt he wore unbuttoned over a white T-shirt. “Do you have a job? Locally, I mean.”

  “I can pay my bills.”

  That didn’t exactly answer her question. Then she noticed he was carrying a cane. “I’ll show you the apartment, but I fear it may not be suitable for you.”

  “And why is that?”

  Now this was awkward. “The stairs are steep.”

  His eyes flashed with anger. “I can handle a few steps. Now show me the place if you insist, so I can get moved in.”

  It all boiled down to the fact that she needed the income and he needed the apartment. Her decision made, she met his gaze head-on and nodded.

  “I’ll get the key.”

  Chapter 2

  It was obvious that her new tenant hated being stared at, but there was no way to avoid it. Considering the small size of Justice Point, Hunter Fitzsimon couldn’t have been shocked that his moving a handful of boxes up a staircase would draw a crowd.

  However, her neighbors had spent more than enough time ogling the newest resident. Tate waited until Hunter was inside the apartment, then she shooed everyone back around to their own yards. When Hunter came back out, he found himself alone, but if he was surprised, it didn’t show. With the same look of grim determination, he returned to his truck for another load of boxes.