Agents of Order Read online

  Agents of Order

  Federal Agents of Magic™ Book Six

  TR Cameron

  Martha Carr

  Michael Anderle

  This book is a work of fiction.

  All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.

  Copyright © 2019 TR Cameron, Martha Carr and Michael Anderle

  Cover Art by Jake @ J Caleb Design

  http://jcalebdesign.com / [email protected]

  Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing

  A Michael Anderle Production

  LMBPN Publishing supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.

  The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  LMBPN Publishing

  PMB 196, 2540 South Maryland Pkwy

  Las Vegas, NV 89109

  First US edition, August 2019

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-64202-417-3

  The Oriceran Universe (and what happens within / characters / situations / worlds) are Copyright © 2017-19 by Martha Carr and LMBPN Publishing.

  Agents of Order - Team

  Thanks to the JIT Readers

  Dave Hicks

  Micky Cocker

  Diane L. Smith

  Misty Roa

  Shari Regan

  Larry Omans

  If we’ve missed anyone, please let us know!

  Editor

  The Skyhunter Editing Team

  Dedications

  For Dylan

  — TR Cameron

  To everyone who still believes in magic

  and all the possibilities that holds.

  To all the readers who make this

  entire ride so much fun.

  And to my son, Louie and so many wonderful friends who remind me all the time of what

  really matters and how wonderful

  life can be in any given moment.

  — Martha

  To Family, Friends and

  Those Who Love

  To Read.

  May We All Enjoy Grace

  To Live The Life We Are

  Called.

  — Michael

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Connect with TR Cameron

  Author Notes - TR Cameron

  Author Notes - Martha Carr

  Author Notes - Michael Anderle

  Other series in the Oriceran Universe:

  Books by Michael Anderle

  Chapter One

  Cara turned slowly to gaze out at the surreal landscape that stretched to the horizon in every direction. Above, too far to be seen clearly but nonetheless sensed as an urge to duck, an array of pointed stalactites hung, ominous and threatening. The ground beneath her feet was the cracked soil of a desert, its copper tint doubtless the result of the spilled lifeblood of those who had battled there before. The visible land faded quickly into darkness.

  She finished her full circle to face two figures—twins and opposites. On the left was an ebony-haired woman clad entirely in white-leather medieval armor festooned with matching bands and buckles from the colorless boots below to the thick collar protecting her neck. Her ears were pointed, her cheekbones sharp, and her lips soft and lush. The elf’s haughty expression suggested judgment. Cara shied away from it and turned her head to the being’s mirror image. He wore the same armor but all black, and his features were identical with only the slightest firmness to his features to convey masculinity instead of femininity. White hair stood in dramatic contrast to the rest of his appearance, as the dark mane had for the other. He, too, gazed at her condescendingly from above his folded arms.

  A hasty glance downward confirmed that she wore her most comfortable combat outfit—boots, tactical pants, and the tight black tunic ARES agents used as a base layer. The standard wrist-length sleeves were cut off at the shoulders to leave her muscular arms bare. The light wind that rippled through the area warmed her skin with its touch. She shook her head once and felt the weight of her long hair captured in a warrior’s knot at the top of her neck, ensuring it wouldn’t get in the way of the fight that was sure to come. The air seemed to vibrate with the imminent threat posed by the twins.

  So, apparently, it’s to be a battle.

  The woman on the left laughed, and it was less cold than she’d expected. “Indeed, it is to be a battle.”

  Cara groaned. Great, they can read minds.

  Now the man laughed, the sound identical to his twin’s. “Yes, we can read your mind anyway, bearer.”

  She squinted in confusion until the moments before she’d landed in this place returned to her brain. Nylotte and Diana had stood over her and tightened the straps to secure her to a table in the basement of the Dark Elf’s shop. She recalled thanking them and surrendering to the mental pressure of the paired daggers that comprised part of the Rhazdon’s Vengeance artifacts, then remembered nothing more before her appearance in that desolate place.

  She narrowed her eyes. “So, Angel and Demon, I presume.” She nodded to the light and the dark in turn. They returned the gesture with identical movements, obviously still amused. In response, she offered a sardonic grin. “I don’t suppose we’re here to chat about how our partnership will work?”

  The duo laughed again and now, it sounded like real pleasure was present. Angel tossed her black hair dramatically. “No, talking is not—”

  “— our preferred mode of conversation,” Demon finished.

  Cara sighed and rolled her shoulders. “I assume it’s not one at a time, either, right?”

  Together, they replied, “What would be the fun in that?” With that, they attacked.

  Angel led the way and circled away from her twin as she stalked forward. Cara responded with her own evasive circle to increase the distance from her darker opponent and put his sibling in white between them. Angel was suddenly in range, her advance so fast it failed to register, and she swung a fist. The agent jerked her head to the side and the blow narrowly missed her left ear and she replied with a two-punch combination to the woman’s sternum. Both strikes connected, but the layers of belts and armor prevented damage to anything other than her knuckles. I wish I'd imagined myself some gloves. She barely ducked aside to avoid the spinning back fist that slashed diagonally at her face. Immediately, she countered with a leg sweep, but Angel skipped over it with ease.

  Midway through the motion, Cara caught a flash of black in her peripheral vision, and flung herself aside, and rolled as soon as she landed. Demon’s first kick missed
, but the next one struck her in the back and propelled her into a faster roll. She used the momentum to leap to her feet in time to catch his follow-up axe kick on crossed forearms. His eyes widened as she grinned and delivered a low front kick into his crotch that forced him to stumble back several feet. She frowned when he failed to drop in agony. He must’ve seen the question in her expression because he gave her a condescending grin. “Angels and demons are ill-equipped, to borrow a phrase, unless they choose otherwise. And, in battle, who would?” She fell back as Angel appeared beside him and they attacked together.

  Okay, they’re both fast, and body blows won’t work. It’s time to start breaking stuff. She backpedaled, blocked with the minimum required effort to conserve her energy, and waited for an opening. The duo fought as if they had battled together forever. They stayed out of one another’s way and used opposing attack vectors that challenged her ability to defend against them. For all she knew, they did have eons of battle time as a unit. Diana had explained how ancient magic users had transferred the spirits of great warriors—willing or unwilling—into objects of power. This pair certainly seemed to have been chosen for their martial prowess.

  Her distracted thoughts cost her as Demon delivered a punch into her shoulder hard enough to spin her around to the right. She planted her left foot and levered a sidekick at his chest, which he blocked with ease. Before he could retaliate, she drew her leg back and thrust it out again to smash his shin with her heel as he raised his limb to avoid her intended crippling blow to his knee. He cursed, hopped away, and limped in a circle to walk off the pain from the kick. If I’m lucky, I fractured something. But somehow, luck doesn’t seem likely.

  Angel abandoned finesse and rushed into a furious tackle that took them both to the ground. The woman was heavier than she appeared, and the elbow she drove into Cara’s sternum robbed her of breath. She raised her left hand for a punch, and the agent used the instant of freedom to drive a knuckle into the base of her foe’s throat in a single sharp strike. Her adversary gagged and curled to the side as involuntary panic at the fear of suffocation did its job. I guess I’m lucky they need to breathe. She rolled out of the way before Demon’s foot stamped where her skull had been a moment before. He assisted his twin—sister?—to her feet, and they faced her again. This time, the haughty looks were replaced with at least minimal grudging respect.

  Cara nodded. “Are we done here?”

  The woman shook her head. “We are not. This is merely a pause for you to regain your strength.” She straightened and clasped her hands before her. “In life, my brother and I were considered great fighters among the Light Elves. Most of our battles, of course, were like this. Training, playing. We mastered all the available weapons with ease, and our success and abilities afforded us the opportunity for a more advanced instructional regimen.”

  Without a notable interruption, Demon continued. “We chose daggers, for we judged ourselves the nimblest, the most agile, and the fastest. As such, we would study the weapons that would best make use of those skills.” He gestured, and a pair of long blades appeared in their hands. Angel’s shone with pure light, untainted by the red haze that suffused the landscape. Demon’s radiated darkness. Cara startled when she realized she suddenly gripped ones of gleaming steel. The mirrored surfaces reflected everything around. The hilts were longer than the knives she was used to, and the blades were as well. They felt perfectly balanced, however, and she imagined she could throw them accurately. Or, if not accurately, at least better than against the dude on the catwalk.

  Her opponents laughed. Angel softened her comment with a smile. “That was definitely a pathetic effort.”

  Demon tossed his own right-hand blade in the air and caught it cleanly without apparent effort. “You are correct, they will fly true. Although disarming yourself is rarely a good idea.”

  Cara grinned. “I’m never disarmed, though.”

  The twins exchanged glances and nodded in unison to her. Angel did the same knife flip as her brother had done. It seemed to offer them reassurance. “We are aware of your magical powers. They will not avail you here, but they are one of the reasons we permitted you to select us.”

  She was about to ask what the other reasons were when Demon growled impatiently. “Enough,” he said curtly and launched himself at her. He approached at a sprint and lashed out with his right blade when he reached melee range. Swiftly, she stepped to her left and pivoted to bring her own left dagger down in a sharp diagonal to deflect his attack downward. She maintained contact until he could no longer strike her with it, then swiped her own dagger out horizontally and aimed at the place where his skull met his neck. He halted, ducked in a smooth motion, and kicked back with his heel. She blocked with a raised foot of her own.

  Demon rolled forward and onto his feet, facing her as he twirled both knives. He waded in without hesitation and rained blows at her in a familiar pattern—down diagonal, sideways, up diagonal, then sweeping strokes from the top and the bottom. She recognized it from her own training, as the strikes followed the standard progression for basic practice. She scoffed. “You’re toying with me. Knock it off, asshole.”

  Cara caught his next attacks with outward circle blocks to open his guard, then delivered a straight front kick to his sternum. He fell back with a gasp, then stood, coughed once, and nodded at his partner. “Very well, then.”

  She barely had time to reposition before Angel’s blades whirled into an almost liquid attack. Where Demon had used straightforward attacks backed by raw power and with the potential to end the battle in a single blow, the woman was fluidity personified. Every move was arced and flowed and one motion led seamlessly to the next so that her approach resembled a dance as she closed. It was a style she’d never faced before, and Cara was hard-pressed to defend against the incoming daggers with no time at all to think of counterattacking.

  Despite her efforts, she missed a block and allowed one through to slice a shallow cut across her stomach. The ice as the blade parted her flesh was followed by the warmth of blood welling free, but there was no time to examine the damage as Angel continued to press her. Their blades rang against each other and Cara lost count of the exchanges in the haze of defending against them until finally, her attacker stepped back and nodded. Demon stalked to his normal position and regarded the agent, who focused on catching her breath before the next challenge.

  Angel looked satisfied. “Adequate. The raw skills are there, although a great deal of training will be required.”

  Cara frowned. “Yeah, well, maybe if I had lived through one of your long elvish lives, I might have gotten there.”

  Demon shook his head. “Seventeen. We were the human equivalent of seventeen when we were called to battle against Rhazdon. We will not speak of it further, but know that we were forced to slay many before we were overwhelmed, captured, and imprisoned.”

  She was amazed at how much they’d accomplished in a seemingly short time and horrified at the notion of teenagers as prisoners. Angel wore a grave expression as she continued the tale. “Neither will we speak of the tortures and torments endured during our captivity. We will only say that when the opportunity for release came, we took it, even though it was to this.” She gestured at the scorched world around them.

  Cara’s mouth dropped open. “You mean this is a representation of where you live or whatever it is that you do?”

  He chuckled. “Exist is probably the most appropriate word. Yes, the last bearer made it so.”

  A grin crept onto her face. “So, if I offered to give you the swanky sixties pad that was inside the bottle in I Dream of Jeannie, you’d be good with ending this now?”

  There was a pause before the pair laughed in unison, the musical sounds a perfect complement to one another. Angel nodded. “Your memories show amusement at the idea, but it would certainly be an upgrade.”

  Demon tapped his daggers together. “However, there is a final matter to resolve before such things can happen. You have n
ot yet proven yourself worthy of wielding us.”

  Cara groaned. “I was afraid you’d say that.” She tensed for an attack, but the twins turned toward each other.

  He sounded despondent. “I would take this burden from you, sister, if you would permit it.”

  Angel stepped forward and wrapped the dark being in her arms. Tears glistened on both their faces at some shared pain. “It is my turn, brother. You cannot protect me from the choices we both made.” They parted with an exchange of nods. When the woman turned back to Cara, her face was hard. “Bearer. Thus far, we have judged your skills. We have deemed you potentially worthy of wielding us. However, you must prove your strength a final time.”

  She nodded. “I assume it’s not like before, though, right?”

  The elf woman shook her head gravely. “It is not. Rather than test you, I will try to kill you.”

  Cara gulped. “And this is the only way?” She was confident that being killed there, wherever it was, would mean death for her physical body in Stonesreach, as well. Hopefully, if the cut had also manifested, Diana and Nylotte were tending to it.