Priceless

through me.
    “Hang on, India, just a little bit longer,” I whispered as I ran back to the crack in the wall. Slipping in, I put my hand on the door.
    *-*-*-*
    His flashlight didn’t give as much light as he would have liked, and the mineshaft was darker than anything he’d ever dealt with before. If he’d had his way, they wouldn’t have separated, but on this front, Adamson knew what she was doing, and for the first time in his life he was starting to trust his partner.
    Wow. Trust and partner in the same sentence; how had that happened? And with Adamson, of all people? There was no longer the driving lust he’d felt from the spell, though he could admit she was a beautiful woman; now it had more to do with her dedication to finding this kid, even when the case was so obviously similar to her little sister’s. She didn’t get distracted by anything. Once she decided a kid needed rescuing, even he and the FBI couldn’t deter her. That was worth something to him. Not to mention she had saved his ass a number of times already.
    Something on the wall caught his eye. Lifting his sword and light up, he was shocked at the symbols etched into the stone; and it wasn’t just one, it was hundreds. Chills swept him, a visceral response to something his body knew was dangerous. Deadly.
    She had to see this.
    *-*-*-*
    “Adamson?” O’Shea called out softly.
    I cringed as his voice echoed through the cavernous space. “Here.” I didn’t want him to get suspicious.
    “I think I found something.”
    What the hell? He couldn’t have found anything, unless . . .
    “It’s a trap!” I spun on my heel and ran toward his voice. Shit, I hadn’t even considered he’d be able to set off booby traps. They should have been keyed only to supernaturals, one of which he definitely was not.
    I sprinted toward the tunnel I’d sent him down, cursing myself for my idiocy. I should have checked first, should have made sure it was safe. His death would be on my shoulders.
    Breathing hard, I sped toward the small pinprick of light I could see, knowing it would be too late.
    O’Shea turned to face me as I skidded to a stop in front of him, fear making me sweat more than the run, my face damp with perspiration. He looked okay, the planes of his face were sharpened by the way the light hit him, but I didn’t see any wounds, no gaping holes or the smell of spells being prepped.
    He motioned to the wall, not noticing I was totally freaked out, for which I was grateful.
    “Check this out; do you know what it means?” He shone the flashlight on the wall.
    I sucked in a large gulp of air. It was a hieroglyph that looked eerily like the pictures India had been drawing all her life. There were stick figures, their bodies neither male nor female, surrounded by orbs. As O’Shea followed the picture’s progression with the flashlight, the orbs grew more and more numerous until they completely covered the stick people.
    I could guess at what it meant, but didn’t really want to. Seeing it like this and not in a child’s colourful crayon drawings made me re-think what exactly was going on. Possession was an ugly thing, and if those orbs weren’t the kind and loving souls of those who’d gone on before us, then they were the souls who’d been cast down into darkness and were looking for a second chance.
    “It’s bad. That’s what it is.” I suddenly didn’t want to cross the veil without O’Shea at my side. It had been a long time since I’d been really afraid, but the idea of being possessed, or dealing with people who were possessed, was a hard one for me to swallow.
    “Come on, I found the way in.” I jogged back the way we’d come. He followed and I felt him pause as I headed toward the crevice in the wall.
    “What are you doing?”
    “You have to trust me. This is the entrance,” I said, slipping into the crack.
    He followed right on my heels. “You were going to go in without me.” His accusation hit the mark, but I didn’t flinch.
    “You have no idea what this all is, the supernatural is something you don’t understand, which makes it dangerous not only for you, but me and India.” My anxiety grew and it was apparent in my voice. This was taking too long. At any moment, we could be dealing with more of the Coven members, looking for their missing people. “If you’re going to come with me, you’re going to do what I say, when I say it. Got it, Agent O’Shea?”
    Jaw clenched, he gave a curt nod, but