Chapter Sixty-One
Jake had known something was up with Angel. When those mental walls of hers stayed up even after he mentioned them, it was a signal to him that he had to be extra vigilant.
It was when he found her in Gabriel’s office with the file on Michael Clemens that puzzle pieces began to slide inexorably closer together in his head. Using vampire vision, he read the entire file as she held it up in her fury. He didn’t even have to directly see the next few pages to be able to “read” them all; he only had to peer at the first page and use his inherent Crow magic to absorb the information contained in the stack of documents.
There was a name in the file that he recognized, though he wouldn’t lock onto the name’s dark significance until later. It was a “business associate” that Michael Clemens had been seen meeting with. The problem was, that particular business associate was a colossally powerful warlock. And the only thing he ever traded in was magic.
But Jake pushed it aside. A lot of people who weren’t mages traded in magic these days. They bought and sold potions or enchanted items. They were middle-men for those who actually could use the items, or for those who wanted someone else to.
It wasn’t until Angel insisted she needed that White Russian that Jake’s mind kicked into overdrive, and in that mode, the puzzle pieces finally slid close enough to click. As if they were magnetized, they snapped together, and Jake began to figure it all out.
Angel appeared to sincerely want the coffee, so he let her out of the bed while his mind was spinning. There was something he wasn’t seeing, something he was missing, but it was right there. The puzzle was coming together, and he just had to pull back far enough to make out what it was.
Suddenly, it was done. The first half of the puzzle became clear.
Angel was going to try to leave. He just knew it. She was going to go to Dmitri and try to end all of this before anyone else was killed.
Angel hadn’t yet been made privy to the knowledge that every single one of Dmitri’s victims over the years had been a scumbag criminal. It was something Jake had barely learned of himself. Cain had filled him in while they were interrogating the Terror. Not a fun business, that. Cain had probably wanted to give Jake something else to think about, and it was information Jake needed anyway.
Angel didn’t know that Dmitri wouldn’t kill anyone innocent. She only knew he was a killer, and she was only interested in stopping the bloodshed once and for all. But worst of all, she was probably going to realize that this, right here, was her only chance at getting away from Jake or Gabriel long enough to call up a transport spell.
So the second Angel was in the hall and out of range, Jake leapt out of bed and pulled on his clothes. Then he crept into the hall and listened, preparing for things to go pear-shaped.
He was close enough to the kitchen to peer through it at an angle and see into the dining room. And that was when the second half of the puzzle snapped together, and it hit him. He looked at the map on the wall with its circles. He remembered the warlock name in Michael Clemens’ file.
That was when everything hit him.
The man Clemens had met with was Darryl Maelstrom. The first Withered.
Michael Clemens had most likely met with him because Clemens bore a scythe mark. The scythe mark was a birthmark shaped like a half-moon, or as some people preferred to think of it, a scythe.
David Sharpe had one. When Sharpe had died, he’d become Withered. In other words, he’d returned to life once more, but changed. In a nutshell, he was immortal and he was “blessed” with quite a few upgrades. The problem was, he was also “cursed” with a few Withered-specific downsides.
One such downside was that a Withered was incapable of being near anyone they “desired” if they were hungry. If it had been too long since they’d fed – usually on blood, but other body parts would do as well – then being near the person they had feelings for, even if those feelings were pure lust, would cause that person to suffer ill effects.
Weakness, light-headedness and disorientation. These were the effects a hungry Withered unwittingly bestowed on someone they craved.
Jake stood there in the hallway and stared at the map and thought of the strange feelings Angel had been having lately. He’d read them in her thoughts, the feeling that she was being watched, the dizziness, the weakness. They were different from the symptoms she’d suffered during her anemic attack. They were different because they were completely unrelated.
It wasn’t an illness causing Angel to feel this way, and it wasn’t even exhaustion. It was the bi-product of being under the watchful eye of a Withered. It was all him. It was his nearness, his desire, and his hunger.
The hunger and desire of Michael Clemens.
Everything made sense now.
Michael’s file detailed a vast underground criminal empire, and the man who ruled it all by the time he was in his early thirties had been ruthless and exacting, cruel in the extreme. No one had been capable of defeating him in any business venture, and his personal life exhibited similar tendencies toward displaying a ruthless demand for control. He was uncompromising and pitiless. He was the perfect warlock.
When Michael had died at Dmitri Voronin’s hand fifteen years ago, he hadn’t stayed dead for long. He’d come back. Whether that was planned or not, Jake may never know, but the result was the same. Michael’s genes kicked in, the dormant magic was activated, and he changed. He became Withered.
Michael wasn’t back to haunt Angel after having gone away – he’d never left in the first place. For fifteen years, he’d watched over Angel, and in the meantime he’d grown stronger. For fifteen years, he’d planned this out.
Those circles on that map were not there because circles were pretty. They were there for a spell. And at the center of that spell was Angel.
Jake ran a hand over his face with the realization – and froze when a third realization hit him. It had been really quiet in the kitchen for a really long time.
Jake’s heart slammed against his chest. He ran around the corner and skidded to a halt. The kitchen was empty. Angel was gone.