The agent shoved those thoughts aside as he rode the elevator to the second floor before stepping from the car and following the room signs to the target area. If he allowed himself to become amped up in preparation for a fight, he would unconsciously present himself in a similarly combative manner. That would very likely cause the fey to become wary and defensive and possibly afford him the chance to either escape or fight. By the time he reached room one-eleven, Zucker was once again calm, level, and had run the name of the occupant through the FBI’s fey database. It wasn’t any surprise to the agent that the name wasn’t in the system since Zucker had already assumed the fey had used a false name to check in. Of course, that meant the fey could be somewhat on edge and anticipating problems, so the agent schooled his expression to be professional but not standoffish. Instead of using the card key he’d been provided and simply going inside, the agent merely knocked lightly on the door.
“One sec,” he heard called out from behind the door. From the way the occupant spoke, unhurried and without any signs of tenseness, Agent Zucker gathered the fey wasn’t anticipating any trouble. Clearly, the hotel management hadn’t done anything to tip him off that the FBI had been contacted. When the door opened, a man in his mid twenties appeared with a warm, welcoming smile. “Hi,” he greeted, “can I help you?”
“Mr. Jones?” Zucker asked, using the name the man had signed the registrar with.
There was a moment, a split second really, where the man seemed confused before his smile returned. “Yes, what can I do for you?”
Reaching into his inner coat pocket, Zucker withdrew his leather ID and badge holder and flipped it open. “Agent Zucker, FBI, we need to have a conversation. You’re not in trouble,” he assured the fey as the man began slowly backing away, “I just need to talk with you about your… good deeds.”
Sighing, the man turned and walked back into the room, allowing the agent to follow and close the door behind him. “Look, I know I’m not supposed to be using my power to heal people like this, but I’m just trying to help folks that can’t afford to go to a doctor or a hospital. I mean,” he said as he turned back to Zucker to look at him imploringly, “you can’t fault me for…”
By the time he realized the agent had drawn, armed, and aimed the tazer, the two electro conductive prongs with their attached wires were already piercing his chest.
****
As the elevator door with its characteristic arrival chime that it seemed every elevator manufacturer was required to include, Adam Gerard watched as the FBI agent ‘escorted’ the man from room one-eleven from the car and through the hotel’s foyer. At least, he assumed it was the occupant from one-eleven since the opaque black bag currently over the man’s head obscured his face. Based upon the well-muffled grunting and completely garbled words, Gerard also assumed the man had been gagged as well. With his hands secured behind his back in thick, black, plastic restraints, there was no way for him to remove the visual and vocal obstructions. “Goodness,” Gerard said in surprise, “I hope you didn’t have any trouble.”
“It’s fine,” the agent said as though he wasn’t currently holding onto a bound, gagged, and blinded man, “we’re trained to handle fey like this. You’ll be happy to know that there didn’t appear to be any damage to the room, so all that’s probably needed is a visit from housekeeping.”
“Thank you Agent Zucker,” the manager said gratefully, “we really appreciate your quick work on this.”
“No trouble at all,” the agent said as he led his prisoner towards and then out the front door.
After listening to his clerk’s inane chatter about how exciting this had been and thinking how a change in staff might now be needed, Gerard excused himself to his office with orders that housekeeping should be contacted to clean up room one-eleven. Once he was sure of his privacy, the man unlocked the bottom drawer of his desk, opened it, and removed a cell phone from within. After powering the device on, he quickly went about composing and sending a text:
Target acquired. No complications. En route to FBIFD.
With the message sent, Gerard powered down the cell phone and replaced it within the drawer. There was no need to wait for any kind of response since there would be none. The message was sent; the receiver would take the necessary action to take custody of the fey from Agent Zucker, and the paperwork would get lost in the system.
Now, he needed to find a new occupant for room one-eleven. Maybe this time he would use kind generosity. Considering how many runaway fey there were in New York, it would be rather simple to find one in a homeless shelter and pretend the hotel was only trying to help someone down on their luck. Other cities had had good success with that route thus far, so maybe it was time for Gerard to try it himself.
Picking up the desk phone, he dialed the first shelter on his list.
Dominion Grocery Store, Corner Brook, Newfoundland
“Well, what if…”
“Ashley,” I said to her gently, yet firmly, as she pushed the large shopping cart through the sliding front doors of the grocery store, “there’s no point in trying to predict the future. You’re worrying yourself sick about this.”
“Well why shouldn’t I be worried?” she defended hotly. “It seems like it’s all that’s on the news these days, not to mention it’s all over the Internet. It’s spreading Aiden,” she finished in a frightened whisper.
Sighing, I moved to the smaller girl’s side and slipped a comforting arm around her shoulders, giving her a gentle squeeze. “It only seems like it because it’s the current hot news topic,” I explained rationally. “Pretty soon they’ll be focused on something else, and then, that will be all over the news and Internet. Back me up here Kit,” I said, lifting my eyes to our gorgeous friend on Ashley’s other side.
“It’s usually how things work,” Kitty said in that tone that indicated she was entering professor mode. “The way corporate news networks make their money is by presenting a story in its most shocking form. That gets more people to tune into the broadcast, which gets the networks more money from advertising, and so on.” She paused briefly to toss back her hair, which I noticed got the attention of more than a few male eyes. “This is especially true when the networks compete against one another. Ratings usually go up when one network airs a dirty laundry story about another network, usually of differing political or ideological slants, after which that network typically fires back with a controversy of their own. Half the time the stories probably aren’t even true,” she said with a laugh before leaning down and dropping a light kiss to Ashley’s temple. “So, don’t worry about it, okay? TV always makes things seem worse than how they really are.”
“All right, all right,” our redheaded friend said with a sigh before a gentle smile re-appeared on her lips and she started seeking out the best produce in the section. Kitty and I stayed with her, of course, but we shared a look behind her back that made it clear neither of us believed a word of what we’d just said. Actually, that’s not entirely true. I had no doubt that what Kitty had said about how networks blow things up to gain ratings was probably correct. What neither of us believed was that the anti-fey beliefs in the states would be going down anytime soon. Even taking into account the inflammatory methods used by the media in all forms, there was no denying that there was a noticeable uptick in violence against pro-fey supporters or even fey themselves.
Just the other day, I’d seen a news article about how a young fey woman in Arkansas had been brutally beaten to within an inch of her life. She had been walking home from her job as a waitress when some kind of mob had jumped her. There hadn’t been any words or threats or demands she get out of town. There had only been fists and feet and metal pipes crashing down on her over and over again. It was really a miracle that she didn’t die on the street that night. What was worse, there were lots of credible accusations flying around that the outspokenly anti-fey police department did only the absolute minimum of investigation into the attack. Translation: they p
robably knew who did it but didn’t arrest their anti-fey brethren.
I kept that news story secret from Ashley. Yes, she was a strong girl; I didn’t doubt that for a second, but she had a lot more ghosts in her past that were just aching to start taking fresh chunks out of her. Would she be able to cope with this fear that simply didn’t want to leave her? Yeah, in time I thought she would. That didn’t mean I planned on doing anything to add to that fear. I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep her from hearing about every anti-fey news story, but I damn sure didn’t have to actively throw them in her face either.
While we hadn’t discussed it, I knew Kitty was on the same page as me about this. By an unspoken agreement, we severely limited any discussions about this topic. Our actions might make you think Ashley was a fragile little flower that was prone to breaking down at the drop of a hat and needed constant protection. That couldn’t be further from the truth. Ashley had shown a level of courage that I doubted many people could match. Regardless of how scared she might have been, that girl had taken down her own kidnapper/torturer, faced down a lust demon, and didn’t even hesitate to take on a terrorist hijacking to try and broker some kind of peaceful outcome. You can say whatever you want about Ashley being fragile (after which I’d probably rip your throat out), but she was one of the strongest people I knew…
…And she was currently calling my name in exasperation. “Aiden!” she said, her tone indicating this was easily the fourth or fifth time she’d done it.
“Huh?” I said dumbly, blinking myself into the here and now.
“I said do you prefer lean or select meat?”
“Ummm.” I could do nothing but shrug, since I had no idea what the difference was. “The fattier the better?” I suggested.
Nodding, Ashley walked over to the selection of meats and went about making her choices. “That’ll go straight to your ass you know,” Kitty said with a mischievous grin.
“Question, Ms. Know-it-all,” I challenged, “how many fat wolves have you ever seen?”
“None,” she replied, clearly not understanding where I was going with this… which was odd considering how often she was on top of, well, everything scientific.
“That’s because they use the fat in the meat they eat for energy, energy they use to hunt, play, and fuck.” I didn’t bother mincing words since this was Kitty I was talking to, sex fiend extraordinaire. Okay, that wasn’t really fair since she’d been that way because she’d been under someone else’s influence. Still, she maintained a rather impressive repertoire when it came to knowledge about sex. Hell, she could probably make me blush long before I could get her to.
“But you’re not a wolf,” she pointed out.
“Blasphemy!” I gasped jokingly.
“You know what I mean,” she chuckled, “you’re not always in wolf form, so you shouldn’t be able to maintain that kind of a diet and not blow up like a blimp.”
“Even when I’m in human form,” I explained, “I still need to maintain a pretty high meat diet. It’s one of the few ways I can keep my wolf in check so she doesn’t basically take over when she hasn’t been able to get out for a while. As far as not having to worry about going all lard ass…” I merely shrugged, “benefits of being a werewolf?”
“I guess so,” she said as Ashley dumped several packages of meat into the cart and lead us on to the next section.
“Plus, you forget I don’t only cook you guys meat,” the redheaded beauty said without looking at either of us. When we both looked at her in surprise she giggled. “I may not have wolf hearing,” she said, nudging me with her elbow, “but it’s still pretty good.”
“Wiseass,” I grumbled affectionately, lightly bopping her on the head.
“So,” Kitty said as she snagged a few items and dumped them in the cart, “how are your guy’s power classes going?”
“Pretty good,” Ashley said with a confident nod. “I’m not rushing it, but I’ve been able to increase the flow of my power a little bit so it’s not working at a snail’s pace. I’m up to about turtle speed now.”
“I’m still trying to get the guys in my class to stop thinking like people,” I sighed.
Thankfully, I’d already explained what my assignment had been, so that wasn’t nearly as confusing of a statement as it could have been. “Well remember,” Ashley said, “they don’t have the benefit of basically being part wolf and all of the instincts and knowledge that goes with it. It’ll take some time.”
“Yeah I know,” I admitted, “and I probably wouldn’t be so impatient about it if it didn’t count for a major chunk of my grade.”
“I’m sure Mr. Earnest and Dr. Wellman wouldn’t have given you the assignment if they didn’t think you were capable,” Kitty said with a confidence I was having a hard time experiencing myself.
“Maybe,” I murmured doubtfully. “I mean, I know Mr. Earnest didn’t do it just so he wouldn’t have to teach the class, since he’s still going to be doing that for the most part. I’ve actually got a session with him in Caim tomorrow.”
“Caim?” Ashley asked, raising a curious eyebrow at me. “Why would you work there? From what Kitty described, it’s primarily for combat and emergency rescue training.”
“It also has some incredibly strong wards and protections built into it,” Kitty clarified. “Neither my knives or Link’s arrows could even touch anything outside of the training room. They just vanished the moment they touched a wall or the observation room’s glass.”
I was still trying to work out the mystery of my training location tomorrow, as well as the fact that it would be a solo affair, when as usual Ashley beat me to the punch. “It’s a safe place,” she said in quiet realization. “No matter what anyone throws at it, no one outside of the training area can be harmed.”
Understanding clicked into place, along with my eyes going pretty wide in surprise. “You think he wants me to…” My mouth snapped closed before I could do something stupid like reveal to any civilian walking by that I possessed the ability to turn into a giant, rage-filled, unstoppable killing machine.
“It would make sense,” Kitty confirmed with a nod as we steered down an aisle, “it’s probably one of the few places on the planet that would allow you to really cut loose without worrying about hurting anyone.”
“And,” Ashley said, taking my hand and giving it an encouraging squeeze, “it might also let you be able to start understanding it in some way. Allow you to control it instead of the other way around.”
With the knowledge that this was an opportunity to better myself instead of some kind of punishment or freak show display, I slowly nodded in consideration. “You could be right,” I allowed, snatching a big bag of Reese’s peanut butter cups off the shelf and tossing them in the basket. “I just don’t really want to let everyone know about it. People are already pretty cautious around me, which I’m totally good with. I don’t want that to change into outright distrust, fear, or even hate. What if one of the students found out about… you know?” I said, my eyes flicking about to the various other shoppers around. “They could justifiably make the case that I’m a danger to everyone there. I already lost control once when I fought with Eddie. It was only because my wolf seemed to understand what was happening that she just taught that asshole a lesson instead of tearing out his throat and using him for a meal. I thought for sure I was getting kicked out for that one, since the school’s got a pretty strict zero-tolerance policy on that kind of thing.”
“Then, simply tell Mr. Earnest that you want that part of your abilities to be kept private.”
Blinking, I looked over at Kitty as though she had just babbled out a bunch of nonsense. She hadn’t, of course, but things had become so complicated in my own head that such a simple solution hadn’t even occurred to me. “You really think him and the school’s administration would be okay with that?”
“Why wouldn’t they be?” Ashley asked as she selected several pasta styles, including lasagna trays, and placed them in
the cart. “Other than the teachers and staff needing to know about your abilities for safety reasons, there’s nothing that says the students of Tearmann have any right to know what you can or can’t do. I actually think it’s probably illegal for them to force you to-oof!”
Her surprised grunt had me spinning around, every instinct in me going on instant combat alert. This might have supposedly been a town friendly to fey, what with a school for them existing just outside its border, but it wasn’t out of the question for there to be a few anti-fey outliers.
Immediately, I relaxed when I saw the only danger our gentle friend was in of being squeezed to death by the pint-sized hugging machine currently with his arms wrapped around her waist. While Kitty blinked in stupefied surprise, Ashley laughed softly and reached down to gently pat the little boy’s head. “Well hello there,” she greeted, clearly charmed by the innocent, beaming smile the child cast up at her.
Reaching up, the little boy of perhaps five or six stroked his hand along the bottom length of her brilliantly red hair. “Pretty,” the little boy said, and between his scent and his voice, I recognized who he was. I still hadn’t gotten to the point where I was able to memorize every single scent I encountered, but I was at the point that it usually triggered a kind of scent-memory that I was able to work out in a reasonable amount of time. When you added in another factor like someone’s voice or how they looked, it went a long way in helping.
As Ashley knelt down so she was eye-level with the boy and he began petting her hair like she was some kind of a cat or a dog, both Kitty and I started looking around for the worried mother or father we knew wasn’t far behind. Sure enough, a mildly haggard woman with medium-length brown hair came around the entrance of the isle we were in and called out, “Gabe!” before racing down the isle towards all of us.
Marking Territory: An Awakened Novel (The Rising Storm Book 1) Page 13
