Jack tightened his grip, as if expecting Marshall to get angry again, but Marshall only laughed softly. “You’re more like him than you know, Cal.”
“I don’t know. I think he would have kicked your arse for what you just did.”
“And brought me in on charges, I imagine. You can, you know.” Marshall could feel Jack tense behind his back.
What would his friend do if Callum decided to take Marshall in? Probably something rash. For all his jokes and relaxed attitude, Jack could be unpredictable when someone he cared about was threatened.
Callum shrugged. “Now why would I want to be doing that over so little a thing? Too much paperwork involved for my liking. Besides, if the Guard prosecuted people over every tiny infraction, they’d never get anything done.” He slowly relaxed his fists, showing that—kind words aside—he had been rattled at how quickly and easily Marshall had called up the power to control him.
Marshall closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Your call.” Now that his temper had faded, all he could feel was a sweeping exhaustion gripping his body and mind.
Jack relaxed, dialing his protective stance back by half like he always did once a crisis had passed. Since that fateful day five years ago, Jack had been glued to Marshall’s side, ready to give Marshall the support he needed. Ever the watchful friend, ever faithful in helping him hold it together.
However, what Marshall really needed right now was for Cal to go away and leave him to his investigation in peace. It had been a long time since Marshall had needed the older man to hold his hand in the field. As long as he was around, Marshall would have to fight to stay in charge.
It had always been that way between the two. Even before the death of Marshall’s father, Cal had taken it upon himself to watch over him. Losing his mother moments after his birth, Marshall had attracted more than his fair share of parental figures, most of them benign.
Not Cal, though. Instead of letting him learn and grow, Cal tried to force Marshall along a path allegedly for his own good. His older sister Adelle had done the same at first, but when he had proven time and again that his judgment in the field was as unparalleled as his mastery over the Dreamscape, she had stood down from her self-appointed role as Marshall’s life coach. If she hadn’t, he never would have been able to work with her.
But, as annoying as Cal was, he was the only person other than Adelle and Jack who cared about how young Marshall was. Cal still pushed Marshall to be someone he wasn’t ready to be, but he planned to help Marshall once he became praetor. In the long run, that would be far worse than what the people who treated Marshall like the savior of the world were doing now.
Cal saw Marshall as a stand-in for his father and pushed him to take his place. But once he got Marshall where he wanted him, Cal wanted to be his regent. It would be done out of love, but he would never stop trying to coddle Marshall. If Marshall allowed Cal to do as he pleased, he’d have the man stepping on the back of his shoes for the rest of his life.
Sometimes Marshall felt so small inside, like maybe he should just sit back and let Cal and the rest of the Guard plan out his life for him. But whenever he was at his lowest and ready to give in, he would think about Jack and Adelle and the support they gave him. Their confidence in him was far more powerful than anything Marshall had magically. With them at his back, he could do anything.
Pulling together all the authority that the mantle of being a guardian had bestowed on him, Marshall looked at Cal. “When this investigation is over, I will come to you, and we will discuss this further, but I don’t promise that you will like the results.” He held up a hand to forestall the argument he saw brewing on Callum’s face. “Later. Right now, I have a case to solve.”
Only slightly mollified, Callum looked thoughtful for a time, his massive eyebrows furrowed in concentration, and then nodded. Finally, he reached out and clapped Marshall on the shoulder. “You’re a good boy, Marshall. You’ll do the right thing when the time comes.” He turned to look at Jack with skepticism. “You look out for him, you hear?”
“I don’t need you to tell me that, old man.” Disdain dripped from Jack’s words.
“Don’t start, you two.” Marshall jumped in to forestall the inevitable argument that occurred when Jack and Callum were in the same room together. As far as Marshall could remember, those two had never gotten along.
Callum leveled a narrowed eye at Jack, but after a moment, he shrugged and turned to leave.
As Callum walked away, Jack said, “I don’t know why I bothered to stop you. If I had waited another minute, you could have Crafted him a better personality.”
“You stopped me because you’re a good friend. He means well even if he is irritating.”
“Where does he get off calling you boy? You’ve been a guardian for years.”
“I think at his age, everyone looks like a child. He was born in the sixteen-hundreds, after all.” And as much as Marshall liked to think otherwise, he was still considered a child by the Guard’s standards. The fact that Marshall had his own team was unheard of at his age.
Jack snorted but said nothing. The scowl on his face spoke volumes.
A tall woman with long, honey-colored curls entered the hallway. Her hazel eyes matched Marshall’s as well as the large, round pendant she had hanging from a chain around her neck. The rest of her attire was tight, black, and functional, befitting a guardian in the field.
“Adelle, where have you been?” Marshall snapped.
“Dearest, I saw Callum on the stairs, and I’m sure he rattled you just now, but there’s no need to be snippy; it’s not like you.” Adelle kissed her brother on the cheek and asked Jack, “How bad was it?”
Jack shrugged. “Cal could have been more controlling and obnoxious. I mean, he left when Marshall told him to, so that’s something.” His words were light, but his eyes told a different story.
Adelle nodded like she understood exactly what had happened.
Marshall hated it when they did that. For the most part, all three of them worked together seamlessly. Their skills and personalities complemented one another so well it was like the gods had created them to work as a team. Then there were other times when it felt like the two of them were only doing the job because Marshall was and that their real job was to support him and keep him from going insane or losing control.
Marshall was starting to suspect they weren’t wrong to behave so. Under specific circumstances, his control over his temper wasn’t what it should be. The burden of too much power on young shoulders had left Marshall far less stable than he should have been.
Aside from that less-than-minor detail, Marshall was a master in his field, so Fire was always called in to handle the big cases. If a situation had gone completely pear-shaped, Marshall and his team were the ones to get called in to fix it, and it was beginning to look like this might turn out to be one of those cases.
Their original investigation would have to be put on hold for the time being while Fire sorted out this new mess. Which was a shame, because Marshall had put a lot of research into creating the persona he was planning on using for that mission. If he finished this case quickly enough, he might even remember it when it came time to use it, though he wasn’t holding out much hope for that.
Marshall had a hunch Callum had been incorrect in his assessment of this assignment. While it was true that ninety-nine percent of the time, the discovery of demonic energy during an investigation ended up being nothing more than an ignorant witch delving greedily into magic he or she didn’t understand, and that it was simple enough for a single guardian to take care of without a team, it would be foolish for Marshall to assume so.
Marshall had empirical knowledge that, on rare occasions, it turned out to be something much, much worse.
Pain flared in Marshall’s hands as his fingernails bit into his palms. He unclenched them slowly, trying not to draw attention to how close to the edge he still was. Taking in a slow, deep breath, he centered himself. If there were nightmares, or—his breath hitched—demons about, he was going to need every bit of calm he possessed to deal with them.
After another steadying breath, he turned his mind back to the present moment. He looked at the white spots on either end of the hallway. Even if they were made from ignorance, rather than intent, they could still be harmful to any unsuspecting person who got too close to them. When demon magic was used, it left a thin spot between dimensions. If those spots were thin enough, something nasty could reach out from the Demon Realm into the Real and treat itself to a free lunch.
“Jack, I need you to check on the officers I passed on the way up here. If any of them came in contact with these spots, they could have been possessed and will need to be purged.” He touched Jack to show him the essence of the officers he needed to find.
Communicating through touch was the easiest form of telepathy, but most dreamwalkers preferred not to. It was such an intensely personal experience that the majority of dreamwalkers chose to spend their time and energy setting up a remote link even though a simple touch would give them instant access. Marshall had been through so much with his teammates that such intimacies were second nature to them. It conserved energy and was a more precise method.
With a cocky grin and an ironic salute, Jack left to carry out Marshall’s order.
Marshall made his way to the nearest stain of demon energy, gesturing for his sister to follow. “Addy, what do you make of this?”
