In the Midnight Hour [Mass Market Paperback]

1

CHAPTER

VERNAL EQUINOX

NEW MOON

Ryne received the assignment just past full dark. She muttered a curse as she yanked on her ankle boots, but it lacked heat. The timing sucked, but what else was new?

She shrugged into a jean jacket. The denim wasn’t warm enough for March, but she couldn’t risk being impeded by a heavy coat. Not when she never knew what she’d be facing till she was up close and personal with it. After drawing a few deep breaths to center herself, she chanted the spell to open a transit.

The gateway shimmered, but it was more mirror than window; she couldn’t see what waited on the other side. She stepped through the portal, and with a wave of her fingers, closed it behind her.

Icy wind slapped at her and she jammed her hands in the pockets of her jacket as she studied her surroundings. Crap, a cemetery. That just figured. Why did the uninitiated always feel the need to conduct black magic rituals inside graveyards?

She sensed a presence immediately, but he was one of theirs and not who she hunted. Her focus shifted. The cemetery gates were closed, the wrought iron seeming vaguely threatening in the muted glow of the streetlights. Fog hung thickly in the air, blocking her view inside the fenced grounds, but she couldn’t tell if it was natural or magical. She hoped for natural.

Satisfied that there was nothing out here to concern her, she stepped from the darkness and toward the gate. Another figure separated itself from the shadows and met her.

Zane Conners was enough to get any woman’s heart pumping faster. As she watched the wind tease his shoulder-length tawny hair, she tried to recall why she’d never accepted an invitation to go out with him. "Hey, Zane."

"Ryne. About time you got your ass here. You know, just because you’re some damn troubleshooter doesn’t mean your time is more important than mine."

Now she remembered. The bitterness. Most of the time he was a nice guy, but every now and then hostility seeped out. No man, no matter how attractive, was worth this bullshit. "I got the call less than five minutes ago. Don’t bitch at me about tardiness, talk to the council."

"Sorry," Zane said gruffly. "It’s been more than two hours since I sent the request." The roar of a jumbo jet taking off drowned out the final word, but she read his lips. She snuggled deeper into her jacket as she waited for the plane to pass.

"Tell me what you know," she said when it became quieter.

For a moment, it looked as if he were going to continue with the I’m-sorry speech, but he nodded and said, "Kid went in there ten minutes before the gates closed. He had a book with him, looked like one of the old ones, but it was hard to tell. It’s been eerily still since then. He wasn’t strong, but if he’s calling up things that are, you might be in for a rough night."

"One of the perks of being a damn troubleshooter. Anything else?" she asked quickly, cutting off another apology.

"That’s all I have."

She nodded, and with a silent incantation, walked through the barred gate as easily as if it were open. Within a few steps, she was engulfed by fog, making the night darker. Ryne paused and cast a quick spell to aid her vision. Another gust of sharp wind clawed at her as she spoke the final words. Why the hell couldn’t he have picked the summer solstice for this?

Row after row of neat, white headstones lined the ground in military order and the precision allowed her to walk without worrying about falling over a grave marker. She skidded across a patch of ice and bit back a curse after she caught her balance. The spring thaw made traversing the grounds dangerous enough.

A few more steps and she cleared the fog. That meant it was magical. Not a good sign. She couldn’t hear the sound of planes from the airport any longer either, another indication it was conjured. It acted like a wall, cutting off the cemetery from the outside world. She kept moving, being more cautious now.

Only moments later, the first wisps of power reached her and she stopped to identify them. A shiver went through her that had nothing to do with the temperature. Yeah, the kid was messing with the dark forces. Some damned powerful ones, too.

She zeroed in on his location and reinforced her protection spells. This was going to be ugly—she knew it. With a quick entreaty for luck, she crept forward, carefully avoiding the places covered with crunchy ice. There wasn’t much cover, but then if this thing was as strong as she suspected, there was no incantation, no physical object, that would hide her presence for long. Dread rose, but she pushed it aside. This was her job, what she’d trained for years to do. She’d handle it.

The kid stood beneath one of the few lights in the cemetery. He looked to be about seventeen, and he used the marble wall that encircled the flagpole like an altar. She noticed the black pillar candles first. They weren’t lit, but it was evidence of dark magic. A book was open between the candles and the pages fluttered in the breeze. A glint caught her eye and she focused on the athame. Seeing a ritual blade in this situation was bad news. Ryne edged closer to hear what the boy was chanting.

It wasn’t English.

It wasn’t any language she’d heard spoken before.

Which meant only one thing—something was inside the kid. Whether or not the teenager was alive was anyone’s guess; she wouldn’t know until she forced whatever inhabited his body out into the open. Staying deep in the shadows of a nearby tree, she let her senses probe, trying to discover what she’d be facing.

She couldn’t read a thing.

That made it tough to come up with a plan of action.

Ryne ran through what she knew and made a guess. The boy was a dormant and had probably always had an interest in the arcane. When he’d found the book, he’d started fooling around with it—and he’d called forth something that wasn’t playing. Something strong enough to compel the kid to this cemetery.

Whatever it was, it must be confined to the grounds. For now. No doubt the teen had been summoned to change the situation and it was up to her to prevent it from getting loose.

The conjecture, however, didn’t give her any idea of how to handle the task. Lots of things that operated on the dark side would behave this way. The chanting stopped abruptly.

"I see our guest is here."

It was the boy’s mouth moving, but it was evil speaking. The voice made her feel as if she’d fallen into a pit with rotting corpses, but she shook off the revulsion and concentrated on the situation. The kid, or rather whatever was in the kid, stared directly at her. So much for the element of surprise.

She didn’t have time to brace herself before he attempted to force her to the altar. The push was strong, the energy fetid, and it gave her a feel for what she’d be facing. Whatever this was, it was old, experienced, and corrupt, but she didn’t think it realized what she was. Not yet.

Ryne shifted, balancing her weight evenly, and prepared herself for another prod. It came immediately and was much more potent, but it didn’t affect her. She smirked, trying to piss the thing off. The idea was to goad him to attack and hope he gave something away, since she still didn’t know what was inside the boy.

Although she’d expected a probe, she thought it would come head-on. He surprised her by using a more roundabout path. She blocked it at once, but it was too late. Stupid, stupid mistake.

"Gineal." The word came out more breath than substance, but she heard it and would bet he’d had a run-in with another enforcer.

A rock flew at her, hurled with such velocity that she barely managed to leap clear. It showed her, though, that he had tele-kinetic ability and that he was drawing on outside power. She couldn’t pinpoint the source, but she needed to cut it off.

She was at a distinct disadvantage. Because the thing was using the teen as a vessel, she was limited in how much force she could use. She didn’t want to hurt the kid if he were still alive, but it meant there wasn’t much she could do until the boy was freed. Sometimes it sucked to be the good guy.

Ryne blocked another missile—a large tree branch—and started searching for what he used to bolster his strength. To give herself time, she called on fire, encircling the boy’s body in a prison of flame. She added a containment spell, but doubted it would stay in place. It would take a full-fledged binding ritual to hold him and there wasn’t time for that.

The text. It emitted energy. That could be the outside source. Too bad she couldn’t destroy it, but it had its own protective shield. Ryne checked, saw that the wall of fire continued to keep him captive, and started toward the altar.

She gasped when she was picked up and pitched backward. The landing knocked the wind from her, but Ryne immediately scrambled up. He’d bypassed her spells. She had to get the book.

Her second approach was more cautious, but every bit as quick. There was no time to waste. The field she’d thrown was weakening and he’d be free in moments.

It ended up being more like an instant.

Ryne hit the asphalt, narrowly avoiding an arc of flame. She scraped her palms, but the burning was a minor irritation. What pissed her off was that he’d used her fire. Rolling to her feet, she sent out her own burst. Not enough to harm the kid’s body, but enough to demonstrate she wasn’t defenseless.

"You are weak, Gineal," the creature said.

She wasn’t going to exchange insults. It was nothing but an attempt to distract her. A creak of metal captured her attention and she saw one of the flagpoles sway. She diverted it, but it crashed...