Agents of Order Page 4

  She nodded. “Lisa says hello.”

  “Ah, gotcha.”

  Diana retrieved her purse and withdrew four items that, to a casual observer, appeared to be D batteries. She pulled off one side of each to expose the adhesive and stuck them on the walls. Two probably would have been enough to defeat most electronic surveillance, but she wanted to be sure. They would emit signals across frequencies that should deal with everything from vibration microphones to spies with stethoscopes pressed against the wall. Spillover would take care of the ceiling and floor, which had more natural insulation anyway, Kayleigh had assured her.

  She checked the app on her phone to ensure that all four were working properly, and the indicators came up green. Satisfied, she dug into her food and alternated chewing with talking. “So, we have a thing for you to do.”

  Bryant sipped his coffee and leaned back casually as if they were simply discussing the weather. Only the narrowing of his eyes revealed his concern.

  She nodded. “Yep. Kayleigh and Deacon have discovered a few things. We need you to get the oversight committee together.”

  “That shouldn’t be difficult.”

  “All the members of the committee.” She pointed the butter knife she was using to put raspberry jam on her toast at him.

  His eyes widened, and he leaned forward. “Now you have my attention. Not only Clarke?”

  She shook her head. “We’ve had other pings. Tomassi is implicated too. At this point, we have no way to be sure how deep it goes, so we need them all there.”

  “Damn. The idea of getting rid of Clarke has a lot of appeal. Even Cyphret. But there’s no telling how the makeup could change if more are involved.”

  Diana shrugged. “As long as the negative votes are the ones who lose their positions, it’s a win, right?”

  Bryant seemed unconvinced. “I suppose, but at least with Cyphret, Clarke, and Tomassi, you know which way they’ll break. If we replace them with others, who knows how crazy or how persuasive they might be?”

  She stopped eating and regarded him levelly. “If it gets worse, there are always options, right?” He’d discussed only the most superficial details of Project Adonis with her, but she was reasonably sure the oversight committee was no longer in the plans if that protocol was invoked.

  He nodded. “Yes, but it would be nice, for a while at least, to have a group of people who actually support us.”

  Diana laughed. “You’re so much more cynical than Taggart. You should quit being so enthralled with the trappings of power and give him his job back.”

  The inappropriate comment broke through his reserve, and he chuckled. “I would love to return Carson's office, desk, and responsibilities to him. In fact, when he wakes up—that very minute—I’ll get him a secure phone and tablet and go back to leading ARES DC.”

  “You’re in the big leagues now, buddy. Even if he does take the job again, you know you’ll never lead a single team again. Jealous?”

  Bryant rose, checked his watch, and leaned over to kiss her on the top of her head. “Entirely so. And now I need to go be powerful.”

  She stood and put her hands on her hips. “If you try to walk out of that door without giving me a proper kiss goodbye, I will shoot you.” Wisely, he complied. As he broke the lingering lip-lock, she murmured, “I would have, you know.”

  He grinned. “Shut up and kiss me again, or I will shoot you.”

  Diana obeyed, happy that their priorities were in accord where it counted.

  Chapter Five

  Dreven remained silent as the others filed into their places. The ruined courtyard around them seemed extraordinarily still, even ominous as he cast the shield to protect them from prying eyes and ears. The entire place was somehow more decrepit than the last time they had gathered. Or maybe that’s the empty place where Ushev’s presence used to weigh on me.

  The death of the underground gnome had been a shock to them all when Iressa had shared the news. She, of course, had been as unperturbed as always. Whether it was because she’d known for longer, having been present when it happened, or because she lacked any actual feelings, he couldn’t hazard a guess. She was a threatening presence to his right, and he avoided looking at her.

  Quiet reigned until Jakko initiated the discussions. “My operations were a success. The level of chaos in the capital city has increased considerably.”

  Pesharn, the towering Kilomea across the circle, nodded. “It is so in the city above Stonesreach, as well. And within the kemana, things advance as expected.” Dreven frowned as engaging with those in the underground community was technically not her prerogative to address, but he did not speak. To protest would seem weak and to congratulate her would seem like an endorsement.

  Iressa’s sultry voice spoke next. “Although the daggers are lost to us due to Ushev’s incompetence, I continue to seek the sword.”

  He winced. The blame game had begun the instant she’d returned alone, and he doubted she was being entirely forthright about the matter. Lacking any evidence to the contrary, there was little he could do to contradict her. Besides, there is little favor to be won here any longer. If ever we were truly a collective, we are now simply an arrangement of individuals whose purposes overlap at the moment. He smiled inwardly. However, perhaps it’s time to sow some animosity.

  With that in mind, he turned to confront the woman. As always, she was dressed in a tight black dress that covered her completely and still managed to be revealing. Her dark hair fell in luxurious curls to frame her pale face. A hint of makeup on her cheeks and a red tint on her perfect lips finished the look. Her wry grin revealed that she’d noticed him staring. Again. Damn her to the World in Between. He gestured with his chin. “Why should we believe that Ushev is responsible for the failure of the task you both shared? It’s rather easy to blame him now that he is no longer present to defend himself.”

  She laughed. “You have answered your own question. Had he not failed, he would be here with us. Since he is not, clearly, he is responsible for the humans’ acquisition of the weapons.”

  Dreven shook his head. “Perhaps you abandoned him. Perhaps you are working with the humans to undermine the rest of us.” Her look of shock was quickly banished but suggested she had something to hide. Maybe she did abandon him.

  Her face was beautiful when she smiled but shone with a far more cutting beauty when she scowled. “Do not throw accusations about, Dreven. How are we to know that you, oh noble leader, are not manipulating our efforts to your own ends? It seems very strange that your underlings have failed so many times, now, to eliminate the woman who leads our enemies.”

  He sighed. I knew it was stupid to challenge her, and I did it anyway. With a turn to face the Dwarf on his left, he changed the subject. “Let’s deal with reality instead of spurious accusations, shall we? Perhaps it is time we changed the roles. Jakko, Pesharn, are you willing to seek the sword?”

  They both nodded and looked surprised at the request but certainly prepared to accept the responsibility. The Kilomea asked, “As before, we will determine afterward who is to wield it?” Dreven confirmed that was the case.

  Iressa spoke before he could continue. “And what, pray tell, do you have in mind for me, wise one?”

  He grinned at her. “You and I have the same task since I would not want to risk our comrades’ wellbeing by putting them in the same situation as Ushev was in. We will both target the enemy leader and remove her from the field once and for all.”

  Iressa nodded, having no legitimate escape from the cage he’d dropped around her. He caught smirks on the faces of the others and hid his own. I may have signed my own death notice. He watched her walk away, the ever-present sway in her step no longer enticing. If that is the case, so be it. I’ve had enough of this illusory teamwork. It is time to finish with this ruse and claim the power that is rightfully mine. That will not be accomplished by playing fair with these fools.

  His master had chosen to speak virtually rather th
an in person, so Dreven portaled to his hidden chamber and awaited the mental prod that would indicate Lechnas’s readiness. He had abandoned the long robes he’d worn in the courtyard in favor of tunic and trousers of a soft material and walked barefoot on the warm wood that made up the floor and walls of the space.

  He had retrieved his meditation rug and knelt upon it in the center of the room. Before their first psychic meeting, Dreven’s intuition had told him that facing his master in a subordinate physical position would be a good idea, both to help him condition his responses and in case the scarred man was somehow able to see his surroundings.

  Unlike in previous encounters, where the summons had been a gentle pull that he had followed to find the man, this was a whirlwind that ripped him from his own mind and deposited him on a broad plateau of ebony rock with molten lava trickling in streams to either side. The acrid air made his eyes sting and water as he peered around for Lechnas.

  He stood with his back to Dreven, gazing out at an empty horizon. His formal black attire was missing this time, replaced by elegant black chain mail and plate. A sword was sheathed at his right hand. Dreven rose to his feet, hunched in self-defense against the brutal wind that ripped through the space. It seemed to not touch the other man and only swirled around him before it moved on to the other available target.

  The other man’s voice was deep and angry. “Dreven.”

  He bowed his head and yelled over the noise of the wind. “Master.” Lechnas gave an irritated wave, and the gale vanished. He stumbled forward as the resistance evaporated, then rose to his full height and clasped his hands behind his back. “Thank you, master.”

  “Your failures are becoming too many to bear.”

  He stiffened his muscles to control their trembling. “With respect, master, we agreed to let the others seek the blades.”

  Lechnas shook his head but did not contradict the statement. An unknown amount of time passed while he waited for the other man to speak again. He calmed his mind by planning the many ways he could act against the enemy leader. Finally, his master turned to face him. His expression was as neutral as always, and yet there was deep anger beneath, only visible in the depths of his eyes. Dreven saw it and felt twinges of fear in his core. He harbored no doubt that his superior could kill him with a word, regardless of the fact that they were not physically near one another.

  “Other matters hasten toward their conclusion, and this ongoing resistance to our efforts on Earth has become more than a simple nuisance. If your people are inadequate to the task of quashing it, then you must handle it yourself.” Dreven opened his mouth to speak, to defend himself but was halted by an upraised hand. “Whatever you are about to say, I do not wish to hear it.”

  The other man strode forward, and his spirit quailed. With each step, his superior seemed more threatening, more powerful, and more capable of instant and brutal violence. He stopped when his breastplate touched Dreven and gazed down at him. “Let me put the matter as simply as possible for you. If your underlings fail again, they and you shall all die. It is therefore to your benefit to ensure they do not fail.”

  He paused, searched his eyes, then stepped back with a nod. “It seems to me that the best way to accomplish this is to handle it yourself. I will not speak to you again until you have success to report. If it is failure that you would bring to me, I recommend that you run, far and fast, as it may prolong your life for a day or two.”

  His master waved a hand and Dreven sprawled on his back in his own chamber. His head smacked off the wall that had been a half-room behind him when he’d knelt to commune with Lechnas. He paused to let the fear that had built up in him trickle away, only to discover a large portion refused to leave. With an effort of will, he pushed himself up and ran his hands through his disarranged hair.

  “Fine. If you wish to abandon subtlety, that’s what we’ll do.” He muttered to himself as he cast the spells to warn his subordinate on Earth that he wished to speak to her. A separate corner of his mind compiled a list of the items he would need to bring when he went to the other planet to take matters into his own hands.

  Success you shall have, my master, or my underlings’ blood shall flow to appease you. And, one day, when the tables have well and truly turned, you will have cause to regret threatening me.

  Chapter Six

  The warehouse was as crowded as he'd seen it since the earliest days of “Tommy Ketchum’s” involvement with the Remembrance gang. The populations of both the magicals and the human contingents had been bolstered by aggressive campaigning after the attack on Wysse and the other witches.

  Sloan had been a part of the latter group’s strategy sessions with Marcus, thanks to his connection with Mur. Each time they noticed a different magical face added to the mix, they responded with three or four humans, ensuring the balance of power remained tilted in their favor. The human leader had beamed with pleasure when they’d realized Sarah would not name a new top witch or wizard for the arcane side of the house and perceived it as an acknowledgment of her diminished status with Dreven in charge.

  Sloan wasn’t so sure about that. Of course, I might simply be paranoid. Each minute I spend in that woman's presence makes me more worried. The madness in her eyes that had been ever-present since her return from the World in Between seemed more volatile lately as if she could snap at any moment and kill everyone around her for the simple joy of it. He’d shared that worry with Marcus, and the other man had laughed. “Let her try,” he'd said, “and she’ll be dead before she has time to cast a second spell.” Mental note—stay out of the way of the first spell.

  Tonight’s gathering was a scheduled one, the twice-weekly meeting where assignments for petty thefts and territory-grabs were handed out. Marcus was vocally supportive and excited about the concept of sowing chaos, and the human side of the house secretly engaged in its own additional illegal and chaotic activities on the side. Sloan wasn’t sure what became of the loot they stole as Murray and Marcus took control after the jobs and drove off on their own. His best guess was that they fenced the merchandise quickly and built up cash to fund some secretive plans of their own. Well, of Marcus’ own. Murray wasn’t really the type for secretive plans.

  He made a slow circuit of the human side of the room, exchanging fist bumps and greetings with the people who’d been around long enough to know him. The newbies were a different breed, young and hard with things to prove. Marcus called them soldiers and a condescending laugh usually accompanied the term. It seems like he’s willing to sell people’s lives cheaply to get what he wants. I suppose that’s not particularly out of character.

  When his travels brought him into the tight circle formed by Marcus, Mur, and a couple of others, he was greeted warmly by all and warmest by Murray. Even though he’d kept up as much of a wall as he could, he had to admit that he liked the awkward lieutenant who’d carried Sloan with him as his own fortunes improved. The bald man now wore immaculate black suits—a far cry from their first meeting, which seemed like years ago. His gruff voice was filled with goodwill. “Tommy, great to see you. How you been?”

  They’d seen each other only days before, but that was for one of Marcus’s side jobs. While in the warehouse, appearances needed to be maintained. “Good, Mur, really good. Chilling. Living the life, you know?”

  “Nothing better.” He nodded at Marcus, who was engaged in an animated conversation with one of the new bloods. “The big man says that this will be an important meeting for the gang.” Sloan’s eyes narrowed. It was an odd thing to say, and he took it as a warning that he’d need to stay on his toes. He gazed around the warehouse with a more discerning eye and his scrutiny revealed patterns in the arrangements of people. The groupings that had appeared random now seemed intentional. Humans and magicals each separated themselves into small units that paralleled one another across the invisible centerline of the space like opposing teams guarding against an attack from the other.

  Shit. If a battle is about to go
down, I am completely under-equipped. He carried only his pistol, an unreliable automatic Murray had provided some time before. Sloan put a blank expression on his face and sent out his magic in the vague hope to get a flash of knowledge or intuition from someone more in the know. All it returned was a number of people feeling the same anxiety over the unknown as him. He turned to return to Mur’s side when a blast of rage struck, so powerful that it almost overwhelmed him.

  His talent was unpredictable at best and fickle and undependable at worst. He often thought of it as a sentient being that thrived on mocking his needs, which is why he’d trained himself not to depend on it. But when it worked, it really worked. He knew instantly that he had landed inside Sarah’s mind. The ominous presence of her memories of the World in Between threatened her sanity, locked away behind a door that was far thinner than he would be comfortable with. The fear and anger that boiled there was now the fundamental layer of her personality, and it pushed eagerly to slip free of its confines.

  Above it lay strata of anger, each directed at different people. Dreven, who he’d heard of but never seen. Marcus. Mur. Vincente, even, for creating the portal that had landed her in the nightmare she would seemingly never escape. Mixed fury and remorse for Wysse’s failure to stay alive. The only positive thought seemed to be a hint of future happiness wrapped around a generic image of a woman. Herself? Someone else? A girlfriend? He had no way to tell.

  Sloan felt her determination and realized she was about to emerge from the office above. He pushed the sensations deep inside and faded into the background to the left in a casual saunter, away from Marcus, away from Sarah, and away from any of the magicals who might somehow sense his own powers being used. It had never happened, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t.

  The door above banged open with a metallic clang that echoed through the warehouse and stilled conversations almost instantly. The one chucklehead soldier who continued to speak was quickly shushed by his comrades as every eye raised to the entrance at the top of the staircase. Sarah stepped into the anticipatory silence as if onto a stage and paused to sweep her eyes over the collected audience before she descended halfway, a single ringing step at a time.