“You are an artist.” Rune sat beside me. “You just didn't know my mark was something special. And it is a mark, not a tattoo. They bind us to Hades and that connection gives us a little of his magic.”
“I see,” I murmured.
And then Merrick walked in, wiping his hands on a towel. Because they were covered in blood.
I looked from Merrick's hands to his face. His lips, already on the thin side, pressed together into a razor line. His hair was drawn back in a ponytail, throwing his features into stark relief. Everything about him looked sharp. I didn't ask what he'd done to that man. Honestly, I'd seen so much violence in my life that it didn't shock me. And I knew when it was necessary. That man was going to hurt me. I wouldn't cry any tears over him.
Merrick looked as if he were waiting for a reaction from me. When he didn't get one, he tossed the rag on a side table and fell into an armchair. “I got nothing from him.”
“Nothing?” Braxen asked in surprise.
“Well, we have his wallet. I got his name and address. I can run them.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “It's been a while since I've seen someone hold out like that. I'm impressed.”
“We're dealing with zealots.” Braxen settled into a lean against the mantle. “They can be resilient.”
Merrick rolled his eyes. “Yeah. He thinks he's fighting for God. All his pain is earning him a spot in Heaven.”
“Which god?” I asked.
Merrick snorted. “That's why I asked him. He said the one true God.”
“Ah, him,” I said. “That would be the one who doesn't exist.”
“That's the one.” Merrick's lips twitched.
“So, you've got your prisoner. He isn't talking. Maybe you could talk to me now?” I suggested.
Rune looked at the other men.
Merrick shrugged, and Braxen nodded.
“There's a soul who's learned to jump bodies after possessing someone,” Rune said.
“They normally can't do that?” I asked.
“No. Once they possess someone, that's it until we take them out. Souls generally don't leave a healthy body,” Merrick said. “But this guy has already eluded the Portland Cerberus, tricking them into believing they captured him and took him back to the Underworld. He's cunning.”
“How did he do that?”
“By jumping bodies, like we just said,” Merrick snapped.
“Hey!” Rune snapped back. “Don't talk to her like that.”
“No,” was all Braxen said to Merrick, as if he was chastising a bad dog.
Merrick rolled his eyes, then went on as if he hadn't been interrupted, “The soul was in one body and holding a second possessed person as his prisoner. The Portland team chased him into the room the possessed woman was being held in, they saw him jump out of the first body and assumed he went into the woman, but he actually left. They didn't think to track his spirit because they saw him head for his prisoner. When they found her possessed, they assumed it was by him. They pulled the soul out of her and took it to the Underworld.”
“Uh-huh,” I said. “So, this guy can jump bodies and he doesn't need his next body to be close. He can fly away and pick someone new at his leisure?”
“Pretty much,” Braxen said. “Makes him difficult to catch.”
“Nearly impossible,” Merrick muttered.
“He's holed up somewhere in Seattle,” Rune said. “And it gets worse. He's enlisted humans to build himself an army. He warned the Portland Cerberus to back off, or he'd start a war. They didn't back off. They couldn't. And now he's brought that war to us.”
“How does he get humans to fight for him?”
“He tells them he's the Archangel Michael, come to Earth to fight demons—us.”
