He could also see why Priya wanted to give him this case. Spencer’s ability to break souls meant he could exorcise demons. He was also in no danger of being possessed himself due to his kind of magic and Fatima.
“All right. Mirror that can call forth the denizens of a hell to possess people. You’re sending me to Seattle, so I’m assuming that was its last known location?”
“There’s rumors it found its way through a black market auction house to a coven in that city, we just don’t know which one, though the local field office has its suspicions. You can take an office here for the next few hours to familiarize yourself with the case file. You leave for Seattle tomorrow.”
He closed the Eyes Only file and left it on her desk before getting to his feet. “Understood.”
Priya looked at him from her seat, a faint smile curving her lips. “Welcome to the Supernatural Operations Agency, Special Agent Spencer Bailey.”
As far as options went, it was better than being dead.
CHAPTERTWO
Spencer gotoff his cross-country flight to Seattle with Fatima digging her claws into his wool coat, clinging to his shoulders like the monkey she wasn’t. Her hind legs were pressed against his lower back, and she shifted her balance as he reached up to drag his carry-on out of the baggage compartment.
“You could walk,” he muttered under his breath, glad for the earbuds that made it seem like he wasn’t talking to himself.
I don’t want my tail stepped on.
Flying economy definitely left them both cramped, but an upgrade hadn’t been possible. Once they were in the jetway, Fatima jumped off him and landed with a soft thump on the floor. From there, she kept pace with him as he hurried through the midday crowds in Seattle-Tacoma International Airport for the passenger pickup bus stop outside. The bus took them to the rental car facility, and Fatima sat on his lap for the short ride, no one paying her any attention.
Considering the March weather, Spencer opted to upgrade the economy car that had been reserved for him to a midsize SUV when they arrived at the facility. Fatima was pleased with the heated passenger seat once they were in the vehicle, curling up on it for a nap while Spencer navigated his way out of the airport traffic toward the WA-518, which fed into Interstate 5.
The drive to the SOA field office in Downtown Seattle took about forty minutes. The sky was overcast, drizzle coating his windshield often enough that he needed to use the wipers from time to time. The field office was one of many skyscrapers that towered over the waterfront, offering up a view of Elliott Bay that was probably gorgeous on a sunny day. It looked downright dreary on the drive in.
Fatima finally woke up from her nap when Spencer pulled into the public parking garage connected to the field office. That structure wasn’t warded, but the skyscraper the field office was located in definitely was. The protective wards hummed at the edge of his senses when they eventually walked into the lobby. Spencer approached the security desk, work bag in hand, and pulled out his badge from his back pocket for identification. “Here for the SOA.”
The security guard nodded and tapped away at their computer. “I have you right here, sir. Take elevator G up to the thirty-second floor.”
Spencer was buzzed through the security gate and took the indicated elevator up to the SOA level. The doors pinged open, and the reception area they stepped into was clean and bright, with colorful Northwest Coast artwork hanging on the walls. Fatima swiveled her head to look at a particularly detailed one of a whale, tail swishing in the way that meant she liked something.
Half the walls in their tiny San Francisco apartment were covered in art reproductions Spencer had bought from the countries they’d traveled through together. Fatima had always been drawn to geometric shapes, and the Northwest Coast style was something they didn’t yet have hanging on their walls.
“I’ll buy you a print while we’re here,” Spencer said.
Fatima trotted after him with a low little growl, catching the attention of the receptionist. The woman’s eyes widened at their approach, fingers going still on her keyboard. “Uh, hello.”
He lifted a hand in greeting. “Special Agent Spencer Bailey. I’m with the SOA’s Rapid Response Division, here for a case. I’m supposed to meet with Deputy Assistant Special Agent In Charge Maricela Sanchez. Is she available?”
“Ah, you’re her next meeting. Wait a moment while I call her office.”
Spencer loitered near the desk, trying not to eavesdrop as he stared down the hallways on either side of the reception area that led farther into the floor. Mostly offices, he figured. Fatima sniffed along the edge of the desk, whiskers twitching as she slunk around the corner. Spencer didn’t call her back, well used to the way she’d go off on her own. Fatima’s curiosity with the living world usually ended up helping him in some way while in the field. Her ability to allow him to see through her eyes and vice versa when the need arose had gotten them out of more than one sticky situation in the past.
Footsteps had Spencer looking to the left, watching as a slim Hispanic woman strode toward him in a gray pantsuit. She was shorter than him, her straight black hair falling past her shoulders and styled in loose waves. When she smiled, it caused faint wrinkles to appear at the corners of her brown eyes. Her aura, when Spencer briefly looked at it, had a brightness to it only magic users retained, but she wasn’t a mage.
“You must be Special Agent Spencer Bailey. Welcome to Seattle. I’m Maricela Sanchez, the deputy assistant SAIC for this field office,” she said.
She held out her hand in greeting without hesitation. Physical touch wasn’t something Spencer always received from those he worked with, but he shook her hand in return, finding her grip firm but not overbearing. “Luckily, my flight wasn’t delayed.”
“It might have been if you landed later in the day. We’re due a storm tonight. Let’s head to my office and continue our conversation there.”
Spencer glanced over his shoulder and let out a low, soft whistle. Fatima came trotting around the reception desk back into view. Maricela arched an eyebrow at Fatima’s appearance but didn’t appear startled in any way. “Hello. Fatima, is that correct?”
Fatima gave a raspy little growl in greeting as she pressed up against Spencer.She feels nice.
“She says hello,” Spencer said.
Maricela nodded, waving her hand at them. “This way.”
