Richelle Mead - Gameboard of the Gods

Do you feel that? Horatio suddenly asked, snapping Justin out of his thoughts.

Feel what—

Justin could feel something, just the slightest prickling along his skin. He would’ve ignored it if the raven hadn’t pointed it out. It was the same sensation he occasionally got around strong practitioners.

Where’s it coming from? he asked.

Where do you think? asked Magnus. Dominic certainly hasn’t found religion.

Justin didn’t wait to hear more. He opened the car door and swung his legs out, earning a cry of surprise from Dominic. “What are you doing?”

“Something’s wrong.” Justin took off at a sprint across the grassy field, and Dominic closed the distance easily. He grabbed Justin’s shoulder.

“You’re just going to go right in? You don’t know what you’re walking into.”

Justin glared in the darkness. “I know it’s one of two things. Either nothing’s wrong, and there’s no harm done, or something is wrong, and we can help.”

“I think it’s a little more complicated than that.”

“You were the one who thought this was too dangerous in the first place.” Justin turned back toward the warehouse. “Are you coming along or not?”

Dominic came along.

They immediately found signs of Mae and Leo’s passing. The front door was ajar, and the inside security panel had been set to daytime mode. Other than that, the huge building was dark and silent. Dominic led the way, scanning the space and keeping protectively near Justin in a manner almost identical to the way Mae moved. Suddenly, Dominic stopped and pulled Justin behind a stack of crates with him. Justin’s eyes had adjusted to the poor lighting, and he saw Dominic point ahead. Peering around the boxes, Justin could discern a spot of light shining on the floor near the far side of the warehouse and the dark shape of a man standing nearby who clearly wasn’t Leo. He was pacing, standing guard, but hadn’t seen them yet.

Justin was about to whisper and ask Dominic what they should do when Dominic surged forward without warning. The man by the hole in the floor spun around in surprise but was too slow. Dominic threw him to the floor and cut off the man’s oxygen until he passed out.

“Holy shit,” said Justin, hurrying over to look. The unconscious man wore a crow pendant. “What was that?”

“Quiet,” whispered Dominic. “There could be more.”

As Justin peered down at the staircase in the floor, he felt that prickling sensation increase. “Yeah. And they’re down there.”

Dominic did a quick check of his ego, as though hoping Leo might have sent a last-minute message that would fix all of this. His glower said no such message had arrived. “Wait here,” he told Justin, who promptly followed him down the stairs. Dominic shook his head in exasperation but said nothing more.

They crept down, winding around the spiral stairs. Dominic slowed even more as they neared the bottom. A doorway came into sight, and he quickly gestured Justin over to the side so that they wouldn’t be seen by those inside. Dominic stiffened, fists clenching.

Although the majority of his work really did consist of interviews and paperwork, Justin had still seen his fair share of deranged religious hideouts. And as he’d told Mae, he’d witnessed other incredible things that defied explanation. None of them compared to the shrine to death and blood that stretched before him. It was the kind of thing movies portrayed when trying to create the most terrifying images of religions they could.

But the décor paled beside the actual activity within. Two Pan-Celt men stood near a stone altar, while a woman in the room’s corner pointed a gun that looked suspiciously like Mae’s at Leo. Three other Pan-Celts tended some wounded, though one looked like he was past help. Most horrible of all, Mae herself was sprawled out on the altar, eyes staring blankly upward as her body shook. Dominic took a deep breath, forcing control.

“Fucking epinephrine,” he muttered.

“What?”

“Epinephrine. They shot her full of it.”

“Epinephrine’s adrenaline,” said Justin. “Not a poison.”

“Might as well be for a prætorian,” Dominic explained. “It’s the main neurotransmitter in fight-or-flight. The implant shoots up production if it senses even the slightest increase in the body. Can you see that dart in her chest?” He pointed. “That is not a slight increase. It’s a major dose that’s sent the implant into overdrive. Not even her body can handle the amounts that are churning out.”

Justin stared in horror, unable to believe he was seeing invincible Mae so debilitated. “Will it kill her?”

“No, but it’d give you a heart attack. Eventually, her implant’s going to realize it doesn’t need the body to make any more and will start eating it up.” He grimaced. “It’s a very neat way to incapacitate a prætorian with an easily obtainable substance. Actually more effective than using a true poison.”

“How do you even know all of that?”

Dominic ignored him. “I think you’ve got more than enough evidence to request assistance.”

He was right. Justin pulled out his ego and entered the quick code that would send local law enforcement to his location. Slipping it back into his pocket, he turned once more to the grisly scene ahead. The two Pan-Celt men by the altar were deep in conversation. Below them, Mae was still clearly out of action, but her spasms had slowed and were growing more irregular.

“I wonder why they’ve kept her alive,” mused Dominic.

“So they can kill her,” said Justin, seeing a flash of silver in the taller man’s hands. “But they have to do it in a ritualistic way.” The pieces fell together. Ordinary enemies of the Morrigan—like Callista—could be killed in whatever manner was most efficient. But these wayward creations…they required something special, he realized. Silver through the heart, on the day of the full moon, by one of the other prized servants. Those whom the Morrigan had created couldn’t be killed haphazardly, even if it meant a slow rate of one a month. “They seem to be taking their time, though.”

“They probably think they’ve got her put down for a while.”

“Don’t they?”

Dominic shrugged. “Probably not as long as they think. That’s what I meant about prætorians being so dangerous. Even when you find a way to stop them, they don’t stay stopped for long.” His eyes flicked to Leo with concern, but mostly he still seemed to be a hostage. “As long as they don’t try to kill anyone soon, we should just be able to wait for the police.”

Don’t wait, said Magnus.

The raven had barely finished speaking when the tall man suddenly turned to the mural in the back of the room and raised his arms up high. “Great queen, we do your bidding and return to you one who has betrayed you.”

And with a speed that caught both Justin and Leo by surprise, he spun around and turned the silver dagger, point down, toward Mae. He raised his arms in a killing blow and thrust downward—but then froze. It was as though he’d hit an invisible wall that he couldn’t penetrate. Clearly astonished, he removed one of his hands from the dagger and lightly touched Mae’s chest with no problem. But when he tried to bring the dagger to her again, he couldn’t touch her.

I guess you aren’t worthless after all, said Horatio.

“There’s some spell on her,” said the tall man incredulously. His brow furrowed in thought as he turned to his companions. “Do you have another blade?”

Someone else handed him an ordinary hunting knife. The man tentatively touched Mae’s cheek with its tip, finding no resistance. He nodded in satisfaction.