Page 28 of Soulmarked
“And if I don't agree?”
He turned to face me, all traces of humor gone. “Then you can walk. I'm not letting your stubborn pride get us both killed.”
I matched his stare. “Funny, I was about to say the same thing about your shoot-first approach.”
For a moment, we stood there in tense silence, each waiting for the other to back down. Then Sean's radio crackled.
“So unless you two want to make out right there in the garage, maybe move your asses?” Skye said over the radio.
Sean muttered something that sounded like Irish profanity and yanked open the driver's door. “Get in. And touch nothing.”
“Wouldn't dream of it,” I said, sliding into the passenger seat. The interior smelled of leather and gun oil, with a hint of something herbal that was probably protective magic.
As we pulled out into the night, I couldn't help but think about Skye's comment. The tension between Sean and me was... complicated. Professional rivalry, sure, but also something else. Something that made our arguments feel more like foreplay than actual hostility.
But that was a problem for another time. Right now, we had a church full of supernatural energy to investigate, a corporate conspiracy to unravel, and probably several things trying to kill us.
Just another night in New York City.
At least this time I had silver bullets.
7
BLOOD TRAIL
The church loomed before us like a wound in the night, its Gothic spires reaching up to claw at the low-hanging clouds. Even from across the street, I could feel something wrong radiating from the building. This wasn't just another abandoned house of worship. Something else had made its home here.
“You feel it too.” Sean's voice was low, barely a whisper as we approached from the shadows. It wasn't a question.
I nodded, scanning the perimeter with practiced efficiency. CITD's intel had flagged this place, one of several historic churches Phoenix Pharmaceuticals had quietly acquired through shell companies. The official story was urban renewal, preserving architectural heritage. But the millions they'd poured into this particular building hadn't gone toward restoration.
“Back entrance,” Sean murmured, already moving. “Amateur mistake to go in the main doors.”
I followed, noting how he moved. The hunter didn't hesitate or second-guess, just flowed from shadow to shadow with lethal grace. I had to admit, however grudgingly, that there wassomething impressive about his certainty. Even if it made me want to punch him sometimes.
The air grew heavier as we approached, carrying a sharp metallic tang that made my stomach clench. Blood. Fresh blood. My mark pulsed in response, a deep ache spreading through my chest. Something about this place was setting it off worse than usual.
“You okay there, fed?” Sean glanced back, eyes narrowing. “You're looking a bit peaky.”
“I'm fine.” I kept my voice steady, professional. “Focus on the job.”
He studied me for a moment longer than necessary, like he was trying to solve a puzzle. “Right. Because you're always fine when your hand keeps touching that spot on your chest. Very convincing.”
I forced my hand away, not even realizing I'd been doing it. “You always this chatty on a hunt?”
“Only when my temporary partner is hiding something that might get us both killed.” His smile was sharp enough to cut. “But sure, let's pretend everything's normal.”
We reached the back door. It wasn't forced as the heavy oak stood slightly ajar, like something had been invited in. A security camera mounted above had been deliberately turned away, its red light blinking steadily into empty space.
“Well, that's not suspicious at all,” I muttered.
Sean drew one of his many knives, silver-edged, if I had to guess. “After you, fed. Since you're so fine and all.”
I shot him a look that could have frozen hell, but moved forward anyway. The door opened silently on well-oiled hinges, revealing the church's cavernous interior. Moonlight filtered through the stained-glass windows, fracturing into shards of crimson and azure across the stone floor. The effect should have been beautiful. Instead, it felt like stepping into the maw of adormant predator, the silence too complete, the shadows too deliberate, as if the very architecture was designed to lure rather than welcome.
The pews stretched toward the altar in neat rows, covered in a thick layer of dust except for recent footprints cutting through the grey film. The air was dense with the smell of blood now, fresh enough that I could almost taste it on my tongue. My mark burned in response, sending tendrils of heat through my chest.
That's when I saw the body.
