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  The creature gathered into itself again and shot up, hitting the ceiling, and disappeared.

  “Oh, hell,” Jasper said. “That thing is gonna get loose.”

  “Gonna?” Temple’s eyes widened. “It’s already gone.”

  Chapter 35

  Jasper scanned the ceiling, locking the sights of his Glock with his gaze: nothing unusual and no structural damage. He peeked behind the dividing wall, where the Nephilim had forced through the stone. Ripples and striations glowed red like a network of exposed veins against the stone wall. The membrane hardened and the stone of the foundation became solid even as he watched. Had the other universe come into their own? Was an alien now loose on earth?

  He took a few deep breaths and faced his friends.

  Friends. Of course, Ed, and yeah, Temple and Vance were his friends, and Penny saved them all with her father’s hammer.

  Unreal.

  Vance cried out.

  Jasper ran over to the little man, but Temple had already dropped to her knees at his side. Ed was there also, hugging his friggin’ thermos.

  All Jasper saw of Penny was her backside as she bolted through the basement door and stomped up the stairs, presumably searching for the fleeing Nephilim.

  “He needs an ambulance,” Temple said. “Now.” She removed Vance’s hands from his left side and recoiled.

  Jasper’s eyes widened and his stomach roiled.

  Vance’s body sagged, suddenly unconscious, but he still breathed. His white button-down shirt and undershirt were shredded. His left side oozed pinkish fluid, the muscle and skin there were like ground-up raw meat.

  Heavy footfalls pounded above them; a crash and splintering wood followed, and then a squeal and screech. The building shuddered.

  “How in the—” Ed said, but didn’t finish the question.

  Temple and Jasper fixed their stares on the ceiling.

  “Lord, I hope the ceiling holds,” Temple said. Her eyes were wide, but not fearful.

  Strange odors filled the room. During the incident, Jasper hadn’t noticed them. He couldn’t put his finger on the smell, a mess consisting of copper traces mixed with cordite mixed with ozone and rotten air. The copper was likely the scent of blood and the cordite from him discharging his weapon.

  “Jasper,” Temple pushed his shoulder, “call an ambulance, now. You know, nine one one? I’m attempting to tend to Vance.”

  He snapped from his reverie and dialed immediately.

  After a brief conversation, he put the phone away. “They’re on the way,” Jasper said.

  Vance’s body shivered and convulsed. That was hard to watch.

  Stomps echoed into the basement and Penny appeared a few seconds later, hammer lowered.

  “The damned thing fled. I caught the Nephilim hiding up above and smacked it with a little earthly hell. Didn’t like my hammer one bit.” Penny smiled, but her gaze dropped to Vance, and her face soured. “Poor little guy. That’s a nasty wound, there.”

  Temple glared at her. Penny’s face reddened.

  “Sorry.” Penny shrunk in size from Temple’s withering glare.

  “He doesn’t need to hear things like that,” Temple said. “He may understand, you know, and it wouldn’t help him. Not at all.”

  Ed and Temple kneeled on the stone floor in silence over Vance, but unable to help the injured man. Penny stood tall once again, keeping watch and guarding them. Jasper got up and walked over to her.

  “Your hammer—” Jasper studied the weapon. The gleaming head had a large striking surface. “You forge that? Or is it an heirloom?”

  Remote sirens wailed, and would be at the hotel in a minute to treat Vance.

  “We have an heirloom hammer, goes back for generations. Does a fine job, too. But this one,” Penny smiled and patted the handle, “my father crafted himself. The head is entirely made up of high-speed steel.”

  “What exactly is high-speed steel?”

  “It’s an alloy. Outside of iron, the main elements are tungsten, molybdenum and vanadium.”

  Jasper nodded. “That fits with what we’ve been debating.”

  Penny’s head tilted.

  “The debate was on the mushrooms and sea creatures—”

  “Sea squirts,” Temple said.

  “Right,” Jasper said, “and now this hammer. They’re all ways of repelling or fighting Nephilim, right?”

  “The Nephilim react differently to different types of steel,” Penny confirmed. “Iron doesn’t seem to interest them, but steel attracts them mightily. That’s why when you encounter them in our world it’s almost always in a place with a high concentration of steel. Stainless steel, however, seems to confuse them, disorient them. That’s why we work it so much in our shop. It acts as a shield, essentially.”

  She gave her hammer—the head of it, rather—a fond glance. “High-speed steel is what hurts them, though. It’s the only thing we know that does.”

  Penny looked back at Jasper. “So we have you believing Nephilim exist. Good.”

  “How could I not believe after what I’ve just witnessed here?” Jasper dropped his gaze to Vance. “And his wounds are real—you don’t have to be Thomas shoving a hand in Christ’s side. Vance’s wounds are real and he would have been a pile of meat if not for you, Penny.”

  Vance’s body convulsed. Ed held him down, preventing any further aggravation of the wound.

  “He’s so cold.” Temple pressed a hand against Vance’s forehead.

  The haze, a byproduct of discharging a Glock at and through the Nephilim, began to dissipate. Jasper reached in and felt Vance’s neck for a pulse. It was weak and distant.

  “I’ll head upstairs and guide the EMTs down here.” Penny spun and ran off. Ed trailed after her. The biologist’s expression was strained. He was unaccustomed to violence and feeling the effects, obviously. He’d held up quite well, though.

  The EMTs soon arrived with a litter and went to work on Vance. Jasper and Temple answered their rapid-fire questions as best as they could without revealing the true nature of the injuries Vance suffered. Jasper kept his right hand hidden as much as possible, since it didn’t hurt. In fact, he felt an unexpected surge of strength course through him. But his hand, and how red it was, would likely draw comment.

  They hovered as the EMTs prepped Vance, moved him to the litter, and strapped him down. Their faces were grave, and as they lifted the litter, one of them shook his head slightly.

  Temple kicked the wall, and a moment later, followed them upstairs, as did Jasper and Penny.

  “Are any of you coming with us?” one of the EMTs asked as they slid the litter into the ambulance.

  “I’ll come,” Ed said. “You’ll either have to let me ride in the ambulance or dig the keys to Vance’s car out of his pockets.”

  “We can’t,” Jasper said, “we’re in the middle of a sensitive investigation, but here,” he extended a business card, “please call me if you need one of us, or if Vance’s condition changes at all.”

  Temple thrust a business card on the EMTs as well.

  “If we’re not reachable, call the Merrillville FBI office,” Jasper said. “They’ll find a way to reach us.”

  “He may not have much time,” one of the EMTs said.

  Temple’s face filled with horror, and Jasper understood she believed all of what occurred was her fault. She took a step toward the ambulance’s back door, retreated, and repeated the motion again, the conflict within her regarding Vance and the investigation obvious. Ed came over to her and said something very softly. Probably something on the order of “you take care of what you have to do and I’ll look out for Vance.” She nodded and turned away.

  “What’s wrong with him,” Jasper asked, “other than the wound to his side?”

  The EMT shrugged. “He’s in shock and may have an infection coursing through his body—I’ve never seen this before, it’s odd.”

  Jasper bit his lip and wanted to tell them the truth, but they’d laugh
and probably call the local psychiatric hospital.

  “Look, someone from the hospital will call you,” one of the EMTs promised.

  “And I’ll keep in touch,” Ed added, holding up his cell phone.

  The ambulance’s lights lit up as did the siren, and the vehicle sped off.

  Temple covered her eyes, her shoulders convulsing. Penny draped an arm over her shoulder. Jasper wondered if he’d ever see the little man again. He’d come to respect Vance’s scientific and unfettered mind, as well as his enthusiasm for the work.

  The sky darkened, as if hastening the sun’s descent, but enough afternoon remained to rescue Steve and Carlos. Was there a deadline for the sacrifices? The thought sparked them into action, and they worked faster putting the pieces together. Right now, Steve’s and Carlos’s lives might be ending at the hands of the sick Câ Tsang people, or the Nephilim he’d witnessed breaking through the membrane and savaging Vance.

  Jasper’s phone buzzed; he glanced at the screen: his boss, Johnson. Now what? He ignored the call. The phone buzzed again. He didn’t answer.

  “We need to get going,” Jasper said. “Penny, thank goodness you showed up here. We wouldn’t have lived.”

  Penny tilted her head in acknowledgement. For someone whose father was missing and had her business trashed, she appeared calm—but maybe she was in a state of denial. Maybe she figured her father, Steve, was tough, and they’d still find Steve and Carlos alive.

  Temple snapped out of her trance—watching the ambulance as long as she could. “We have information that may lead us to your father.”

  Penny’s eyes softened and watered. “Let’s go, then. I’ll follow you, and on the way, I’m calling for backup from some of my employees—all of them are guild members. Give me the address.”

  “No argument from me,” Jasper said, and Temple shrugged, as if saying, do whatever you want.

  Once in the Charger, Temple reclined the passenger seat and draped her arm over her forehead.

  Jasper’s phone buzzed.

  “Damn it. My boss won’t leave me alone,” Jasper said. Temple remained silent.

  This buzz wasn’t a phone call, but a text: CALL ME!

  A few seconds later, another one followed: NOW!

  And then a few seconds after: YOUR JOB DEPENDS ON IT!

  “Fuck.” Jasper smacked the steering wheel. “Management’s function seems to be getting in the way of real work.”

  “Call him, he won’t stop until you do,” said Temple.

  “I’m about to pull over, get out of the car, and throw this stupid phone on the asphalt as hard as I can.”

  “Great idea,” Temple’s voice remained flat.

  “Fine, I’ll call Johnson. I won’t be surprised if ASAC Masters is behind this somehow.”

  “You’ll never know until you call.”

  Jasper dialed and took a few calming breaths.

  Before he could even say “hello,” Johnson lit into him:

  “What in the hell are you doing?”

  “What do you mean?” Jasper bit down on his anger and typical wiseass retort.

  “Are you kidding? You were attacked at your apartment and didn’t report the incident. Instead you try to have your friend, Pedro, a local cop, cover it up. Guess what? It didn’t work.”

  “Really? You think?”

  A long silence. In the old days, this would have been the time Johnson yanked a flask from his drawer and took a healthy pull of whisky.

  “Don’t push it. This only gets worse. A few minutes ago I received a phone call from the hospital—”

  Shit.

  “—and I’m told an agent of mine is in the hospital and in critical condition. When they tell me the name—Vance Ravel—I don’t even know who in the hell that is. And then it dawns on me—he’s part of this HQ group of yours, and—”

  Jasper held the phone away from his ear for a few seconds.

  “—Agent Wilde, get your wiseass into the office right now, we have much to discuss.” The heat of his boss’s anger screamed through the phone, as if Johnson’s red face and hot temper transcended the normal means of heat transference.

  “Doesn’t seem like there’s anything left to discuss.”

  “Wow, you’re really pushing it, aren’t you?” Temple popped her seat upright, coming back to life a little.

  Jasper grinned. He actually enjoyed the exchange with Johnson more than he figured, given the circumstances.

  “You’re purposely causing problems in our AOR, and circumventing established Bureau procedures. Get in here now!”

  “I’m sorry, but last I checked I was on TDY to SAG, so you’re not the boss of me.” Jasper suppressed a chuckle.

  Temple’s eyes widened, then she laughed. “Did you really just say that? You’re not the boss of me? Wow.”

  “Remember the time on the bricks ASAC Masters and I promised?”

  “Boy, you’re really posing some tough questions, Johnson. Sorry, I don’t care right now. I’m busy saving some lives, but what would you know about real work, you pencil-pushing desk jockey?” He shut off his phone and tossed it into the back seat. “Well, so much for my sterling career in Federal law enforcement, huh?”

  “As true as your comments were, well—” Temple covered her eyes and propped an elbow against the doorframe. “I’m not sure even my boss can rescue you from the grave you dug for yourself just now.”

  “Whatever. I’ll deal with them after we rescue Steve and Carlos. I swear, Vance better make it, or I’m a nudge away from going all vigilante.”

  “I’m gonna start calling you Bronson.”

  Jasper grinned. “Nicely played.” His grip on the steering wheel eased.

  Chapter 36

  Jasper glanced in his rear-view mirror and saw the lights of Steve’s truck lit up, with Penny behind the wheel. The sky had darkened drastically and the sun had all but disappeared behind low-lying clouds, projecting a suffocating green pall over them.

  The air had cooled drastically also. It was as if the opening of the portal—the elastic membrane between worlds, whatever the hell it was—at the Euclid had sucked the heat from this world into whatever was on the other side. He half-expected a plague—locusts smashing the windshield, or frogs falling from the sky. He shivered.

  “You okay?” Temple’s hand touched his arm.

  “Yeah, well, I think so.” Jasper licked his lips. “Actually, no. This is bleak. Do we have any chance of getting to Steve and Carlos in time? And if we do reach them, what about the cult? There could be a hundred of them waiting at the petrochemical plant we’re headed to. I’m not even mentioning the Nephilim in the room.”

  Temple smiled. “You know how to maintain your sense of humor, at least.”

  “There’s always that, though I’m not sure my boss appreciates my jocularity at the moment. He’ll likely send people searching for me, shoot, he may already know where we’re heading if he got to Mandy.” He shivered again. “Are you cold?”

  Temple shook her head. “No, now I’m warm, but then, I doubt you and I will ever agree on the temperature.”

  Jasper pulled his right hand off the steering wheel and made a fist.

  “Your hand. It’s reddish purple, almost like the sky is right now. Does that hurt?” She reached for his hand, but he held it close to his body.

  “No, it doesn’t hurt, not even a tingle or pins and needles like I’ve been sitting on it. It’s a weird sensation, though.”

  “Want me to drive?”

  “I’m okay, I can still wiggle my fingers and all that—my grip isn’t weak, quite the contrary.” Jasper glanced at Temple. “I feel as if I could rip the steering wheel off or crush something with my hand.”

  “Oh. That’s interesting. I’m sure Vance would—”

  “Yeah,” Jasper said, “hopefully he’ll get the chance.”

  The abandoned plant wasn’t far from the Euclid Hotel, and they soon approached a ten-foot tall chain-link fence surrounding a sizable com
plex of buildings. Grass, weeds, and shrubs encroached upon the fence and the edges of the property. A well-worn patch of pavement remained free of growth and the gate appeared as if it’d been used quite often.

  Night had fallen on them faster than Jasper expected and with it came a sense of foreboding. He switched off the Charger.

  “What if this isn’t the right place?” he said. “What if we missed something and we’re at the wrong building?”

  Temple touched his arm again. “And what if this is the right building and we’re sitting out here screwing around while Steve and Carlos are dying inside?”

  He glimpsed movement on the other side of the fence. A man ducked down, but remained visible despite the dense foliage.

  His mind was instantly made up. “Okay,” Jasper said, “let’s—”

  A roar filled the Charger’s interior from behind. Jasper whipped his head around and saw—

  Steve’s pickup truck sailing toward the fence. Penny was inside gripping the wheel with both hands, bracing for the impact.

  “Oh, Christ. I hope she—”

  The gate collapsed under the truck’s weight and momentum, metal clanking and screeching amidst the roaring engine. So much for a stealthy approach. The man who’d tried hiding behind the fence popped up and ran toward the opening.

  “I’m getting out and grabbing this clown—Temple, start the—”

  But Temple leaped from the car before he finished the sentence, closed on the man within seconds, and drew down on him with her Glock.

  Jasper started the Charger, and punched it for the gate. He exited and assisted Temple with the man she shoved down on his knees—his hands clasped together on top of his head. The man’s appearance resembled other cult members they’d encountered so far. Plain in appearance and wearing variations on a white robe theme, but this man wore what amounted to a martial arts uniform, a gi of some sort. Hopefully he didn’t fancy himself a real martial artist.

  “You have cuffs?” Temple asked sheepishly.

  “I’ll cuff, you cover.” Jasper grinned, then turned to the cultist. “Hey, asshole, spread those knees apart. Now, bring your hands to the small of your back, knuckle to knuckle, palms out.” Jasper approached, cuffs in hand while Temple moved off to the side, triangulating on the man. At least her time at headquarters hadn’t eradicated arrest procedures from her mind.