Mate Bond(57)

Even so, there were enough people around to make Bowman's expedition  perilous. Groundskeepers and maintenance workers moved about the campus  on foot and in electric carts, department secretaries hurrying in to  open offices. A few students trickled into the just-opened library, and  one academic walked to a brick building, a briefcase in hand, head down  against the cold.

The Shifters didn't resemble anything but Shifters, and one had a broadsword on his back.

Bowman had considered leaving Pierce behind-for about three seconds.  Bowman knew he needed Pierce near, in case it became necessary for him  to do his job as Guardian.

The Fae woman, Brigid, accompanied them, though she'd started to feel  ill as soon as they'd left the woods. The Shifters had parked their  motorcycles and trucks at the arena-the arena's shored-up beams had iron  in them, as did the waiting vehicles.

Gil had stepped forward and solved the problem. He gave Brigid a  necklace with what looked like a coin hanging from it, which, he said,  would protect her from the worst of the iron sickness. Brigid took the  necklace distrustfully, but when she put it on, the greenish cast to her  skin disappeared, and she breathed better.

Gil handed another necklace to Bowman. "This will help."

"Help me what?" He was as suspicious as Brigid.

"Cut through any spells Turner has laid on to keep you from Kenzie. He  knows a lot of Fae magic. Half the crap Cristian and I found in his  trailer is about Fae spells and how to find the power, as a human, to  work them. He's figured out a lot-how to tap the ley lines; how to use  sympathetic magic-blood, hair, the like-to control people. He's  dangerous. This is a fairly general spell, but it should help."

Bowman would have preferred him to say, Here's the perfect weapon that  will take out Turner and free Kenzie without her and Ryan getting hurt,  instead of It should help. But Bowman had learned to take what he could  get.

They rendezvoused at a coffeehouse outside the university, a place that  didn't mind serving Shifters. The clientele was young, mostly students  and newbie executives. They gave the Shifters curious glances, though  Brigid stood out still more than the Shifters. She'd look otherworldly  even without the tunic and breeches, with her pale hair, long braids,  and black eyes. She gazed coolly back at the men who stared at her in  wonder until they pretended great interest in their coffees.                       
       
           



       

Bowman sipped his brew in the parking lot, for once having no enjoyment  of the rich, bitter liquid. They'd decided to keep the penetrating team  for the university small-Bowman, Pierce, Graham, Reid. Gil, who Bowman  wasn't going to trust by a long way, would stay with Cade. Cade had  orders to sit on him if he tried anything.

"I'm here to help," Gil said, undaunted. "Believe me, I owe Kenzie."

"Damn right you do." Bowman snarled at him. "But you take orders from me, got it?"

Gil raised his hands. "All right. It's your show."

"We don't even know if Turner's at his office," Pierce pointed out. "He  could be at his house in South Carolina. The university is only a  guess."

"Simple enough to discover." Cristian took out his cell phone and tapped  numbers. "Hello, is that the Department of Anthropology?" he asked when  a woman's voice answered. His accent became thick. "I am a colleague of  Professor Turner, an anthropologist from Romania. Is he in? May I speak  to him?"

Bowman heard the woman on the other end. "He's here, but he's over in  his lab. He doesn't like to be disturbed there. I can leave a message  with your number, or send you to his voice mail."

"It is no matter." Cristian managed to sound cheerful and bumbling, and  somehow stooped and elderly, though he stood next to Bowman as taut and  dangerous as a naked blade. "I take a chance. I call him again this  afternoon, yes? Thank you, young lady. You have a nice day."

He tapped the phone again and dropped it into his pocket. "He is there."

"I heard," Bowman said tightly.

Graham gave Cristian a look of reassessment. "You're a devious bastard. Why haven't I met you before?"

"Bowman does not let me attend the meetings of Shifter leaders," Cristian said calmly. "He keeps me, as you say, in reserve."

"And you just happened to know the guy's phone number?" Graham asked.

"Of course. When we began to research Professor Turner, I learned  everything about him-where he lived, where he worked, and who he worked  with, and I stored it here." Cristian tapped the side of his head.  "Better than a computer."

Pierce tried to hide his snort and didn't succeed. Cristian gave him a chilling look, and Pierce quickly drank coffee.

Jamie, Cade, and a few other trackers broke from the main party, Gil in  tow, as they left the coffeehouse. They would keep watch, alert Bowman  of any trouble, and be ready to assist when needed. Cade grumbled that  he didn't like it, but he acknowledged that secrecy, not a direct  attack, was the answer here.

Cristian accompanied Bowman's group with Brigid back to the campus, then  he and Brigid walked away together. They'd been assigned the task of  distracting campus security while the other Shifters and Reid slipped  inside the building that housed Turner's lab.

Cristian, with his salt-and-pepper hair and tall body, and Brigid,  nearly as tall as he was, her white braids brushing the backs of her  knees, were certainly distracting. They drew the gazes of not only the  lone security man in his cart, but also every other person they strolled  past.

Bowman signaled the others. They opened the unlocked door of the small  building Cristian had told Bowman housed Turner's lab and walked inside,  one at a time. Following the directions Cristian had given them, they  went down a flight of stairs and through another heavy door at the  bottom.

The basement of this building was silent, dim, and empty, and made  Bowman's wolf growl in unease. The place, as Ryan would say, creeped him  out.

The scent was wrong, a strange combination of dry, sterilized air and  dust. The hall was long, the tile institutional white, the walls painted  off-white and needing a touch-up. No pictures lined the corridor,  though bulletin boards hung outside each door. These boards were filled  with photos, photocopied articles with circled paragraphs, and small  posters with sayings like You don't have to be crazy to work here, but  it helps.

The metal doors between the ordinary ones unnerved Bowman most of all.  These were stainless steel and massive, like the doors of giant  refrigerators. Large chains hung across them, locked with padlocks.

Reid touched a door. "Ordinary metal," he said. "Not spelled. But it makes you wonder what they're keeping in there."

Bowman sniffed but caught no scent. The chilled, dry air dampened all smells.

They walked on in silence.

Turner's lab lay right where Cristian said it would. The word "lab"  conjured in Bowman's mind rows of test tubes and flaming alcohol  burners, but then, he'd never seen one outside of TV or movies. This lab  was nothing more than a large room of tables, a desk and chair, a ton  of dusty books on shelves scaling the walls, and trays that held shards  of pottery or skulls and bones.                       
       
           



       

The Shifters tightened at the sight of the bones. Most were human, and  ancient-any life that had clung to them was long gone. Even so, these  humans should not have been disturbed from their rest.

Reid stopped before one glassed-in tray that sat by itself. "These are Shifter," he said.

Bowman went quickly to him, and the other two Shifters closed behind  Bowman. Three skulls and several piles of bones occupied the case.  Unlike the bones in the other trays, these weren't labeled.

"You see," Reid said, pointing, "the shape of the skull is slightly  different, the bones a little thicker than those of a human. These bones  that look animal are the right size to be Shifter."

They eyed the remains in disquiet. "How do you know what Shifter skulls  look like?" Graham asked in a low voice. "We don't let people look at  them."

"People, no. Fae, yes. Some of the hoch alfar still have Shifter skulls  as trophies in their halls. Passed down through the generations."

Bowman felt sick. Whoever those ancient Shifters were, he said a prayer  to the Goddess for them, hoping their souls had managed to escape.

"Pierce," he said.

Pierce knew what Bowman wanted. He drew his sword, went to the case, and brought the hilt down, shattering the glass.

Reid and Graham helped Pierce clear the shards away while Bowman stood a  little apart, his heart thumping. The skulls were very old, he could  tell by the scent, or lack of it, but the fact that they existed at all  infuriated him. Turner could only have acquired them from Shifter  hunters or from Fae.