by T. S. Snow
“I….I don’t remember?” I sought to unscramble my brain, trying to recall his exact words, but it was all just sort of a blur. So much had happened between now and then, and I honestly had not been paying that much attention to the driver. “Why, what’s wrong?”
“Carter… Sidney is dead. It’s not common knowledge yet, but he was killed when Ricardo Illudere made his escape after he lost his duel with Andres Illudere.”
“WHAT?” My yell had Blaze barging into the room, glaive at the ready.
It took me a second just staring at him to process…everything.
“Agent Futhark, put the weapon down.” Christian’s order was more exasperated than anything. Which was a good thing for Blaze, really, because he’d just broken a bunch of different protocols.
But. Like.
“Sidney is dead?” I asked, my voice reaching some high octaves that probably could only be heard by dogs.
No.
Sidney couldn’t be dead. I knew it had been a hot minute since the last time I saw him, but Sidney wasn’t a field agent.
He was a driver.
I mean, clearly he was an agent since he worked for AMIA, even if, as far as I knew, all he did was drive me around. But. Like.
How?
I hadn’t realized I spoke the question out loud, until I heard Christian sighing.
“Futhark, if you’re going to be here, close the door and sit down.”
Blaze blushed slightly, but he steeled his resolve and did just that, closing the door and sitting in the chair by my side.
More power to him.
I tapped my foot. “So. You were about to tell me about Sidney. Go.” Seriously, the focus of some people.
Christian didn’t even bother giving me one of his admonishing stares.
“Sidney was driving the car that was set to take Ricardo out of the country. He was killed on-site after the collision, probably as collateral damage. So were the other agents with him, except for the one we suspect was a mole we hadn’t caught during the first purge. Since then, I’ve personally looked through every single agent, and I’ve been able to get rid of the remaining worms, but the cost was too high.” Christian tried to sound dispassionate, to just give me the facts, but his tone was angry. Not to mention, there was a vein on his neck that looked about ready to jump out and say hello.
I couldn’t properly process my emotions. I should be curled in a ball, crying right now. Or raging at the world for taking a good man. Raging at the resistance for continuing with the senseless deaths.
But I just felt…numb.
I loved Sidney; he’d been one of the first friends I’d made after I’d become a Carter. Yes, he’d been stuck with the role of my driver, but while Christian was like a father of sorts to me, Sidney had always been the cool uncle who would sass back. He’d bring me coffee and sometimes even some baked goods, making sure I ate because he knew half the time I was called to AMIA at the last minute, and didn’t have the time to grab food before I went to work.
He’d been a great guy.
“Char, are you okay?” Blaze asked, squeezing my hand where I’d been gripping the arm of the chair, offering me some not-so-silent support.
“Yeah.” I cleared my throat, trying to make my voice sound firmer. “I’m fine.”
Christian gave me a look that said he didn’t believe me, but he didn’t call me out on it.
“So. What can we do?”
If they found the change in topics abrupt, neither of them mentioned it, and I was thankful for that. For now, I wanted to focus on what I could do, what I should do. I’d unpack all my feelings later, probably armed with some comfort food.
Right now, however, there were things I had to do.
29
Blaze
I frowned at Charisma, even as she continued her conversation with the Director, asking him what had happened at the resistance’s warehouse after we left.
I was starting to get worried about her. Char was asking the right questions, getting the full scope on the situation, but there was something…off about her.
Like she’d flipped off some kind of switch in her mind, and gone full robot. There was no inflection to her words, no emotion on her face. I’d had no idea she was able to shut herself off from feeling quite this well, and it was concerning.
Yet, when I asked, she said she was fine. I couldn’t just call bullshit in front of the Director, however, even if he looked like he believed her lie even less than I did.
All I could do was wait, and hope this change was temporary.
Not that I wanted to see Char suffering, quite the contrary really, but I knew that if she kept her emotions bottled up and shoved in tiny boxes inside her, it would be worse for her health long term. Right now, she needed time to mourn for her friend.
“So you have no idea where Cara and Ricardo are hiding?”
Christian sighed at Charisma’s question.
“No, Carter, we don’t. I sent Agent Blair Illudere with a small team to follow the trail Ricardo left behind. What we do know is that wherever your cousin is, she’s no longer with Ricardo. I have an agent looking for Cara, and his last report said he was close to finding where she is. We’re hoping once we do, if we can keep watch, she’ll do us all a favor and lead us straight to Ricardo.”
I almost snorted. Somehow, I didn’t think Ricardo would be that dumb. If he were, he’d have been caught by now, and the resistance probably wouldn’t have lasted quite this long.
Cara, on the other hand…it wasn’t that I thought she was dumb, but she was cocky.
Cocky got you caught.
“Will you need me to work on their case?”
The Director brushed her off. “No. What I want from you is to go down to tech and help them comb through the computers we found at their headquarters, and what we found in some of their other bases. It should keep all of you occupied for awhile, and if there are any more places for them to gather or hide, we want to know, so we can shut it all down.”
Charisma nodded, and I wasn’t going to lie, part of me was glad she wasn’t going to be sent out in the field with Blair. She’d taken too many risks already.
“What will happen to the rebels?” I chimed in. I’d been wondering about that ever since we stormed the building where they’d been keeping Char and the others captive. And while part of me wanted to see them all punished for life for having taken my girl, and for having fucked with my family home, risking the lives of the people who lived and worked there, I wasn’t entirely sure I could condone all of them receiving the same fate as people like Ricardo and the man Char had referred to as the creepy one.
Truth was, this was probably a crappy thing to decide all around, because AMIA would be doomed if they had to imprison everyone who was involved with the resistance—the backlash with the mage population alone would be a PR nightmare—but they also couldn’t let everyone just go without some kind of punishment. If they did, nothing was stopping the people from going crazy and committing all kinds of heinous crimes knowing they wouldn’t be punished for it.
It would shake the very foundation of our society, and we’d lose the one thing the Council could not afford to lose: the support of its people.
Doomed if you do, doomed if you don’t.
The Director stared at me for a moment, as if only just remembering I was in the room, but I knew better.
He’d known I was here all along, he’d probably just hoped I’d stay out of it.
Probably would’ve been smarter of me to do just that, but while I was an agent, trained and ready to do what was right and what the agency wanted, I was a Futhark first.
And I needed to ensure the safety of my people. Whatever that meant.
“Are you asking this as an agent, or as the heir?” The Director’s question was cold, professional.
I raised an eyebrow at him, but it was Charisma who answered.
“Can’t it be both? It’s not like he’s two separate entities. He is, after al
l, Agent Futhark.”
I smiled at the little bit of sass that bled from what had so far been an almost robotic response.
Maybe I didn’t have to worry too much about my Little Spitfire after all. She’d be okay.
At the end of the day, she was Charisma-fucking-Carter, mailbox opossum, and nerd extraordinaire—her words, not mine.
“Very well,” the Director conceded, before looking at me. “Right now, all the rebels we could find are being put in the system and we’re taking their statements. It’ll be a long, boring process, but once that’s done, I’ll hold a meeting with the necessary people to decide what will be done about them. Most will probably be let go, under specific circumstances. Others will not be that lucky. That’s all I’m going to say on the matter for now.”
I nodded. So long as the Council of Six was made aware, and maybe even got a say on what would happen, I was sure a good compromise would be made.
Hopefully.
“And Jess?” Char asked at last, and the Director’s whole body tensed.
“What about her?” Eyes narrowed, he stared at Charisma as if bracing himself for something.
Char rolled her eyes. “When can I see her?”
The Director’s body relaxed a small fraction. I probably wouldn’t even have noticed if I hadn’t been paying attention to him.
“You can’t. Not yet. She gave us a lot of valuable information, and we’re putting her in our protection program. Once things settle, if she wants to see you, then something might be arranged, but until then…” he trailed off, and it was quite clear that decision was final.
“She’s in the protection program, not in jail?” Char smiled. “Good.”
The Director’s phone rang, and he sent us both a look. “Now, if this is done, I have work to get back to.”
Dismissed, we both got up from our chairs.
“Oh, and Carter?” The Director called out, before she’d made it to the door. “It’s good to have you back.”
“It’s good to be back, sir.”
I loved Charisma, I really did. However, I’d be the first to admit that spending four hours in a room filled with computers and people, just staring as she muttered to herself under her breath and did only whatever the fuck she was doing to comb through their files—probably hacking it and shit—to get information was incredibly boring.
At least when she was programming METs, she’d stop every now and then to stretch or move a little. Not now, though.
Right now, she was completely focused on her task.
I hoped to fuck she caught them.
But of course she would. My girl was utterly amazing.
The first thing she’d done when we’d arrived at the nerd heaven was to pull up the program she’d created that tracked all the METs manipulated by the mainframe at the resistance’s headquarters. The entire time, she’d grumbled about how she should’ve brought her equipment to make things easier to use, but it didn’t seem to stop her from remotely accessing her computer which was at Bastille’s, and getting to work. She’d managed to get a list of addresses that she’d given to one of the agents.
She’d mentioned, however, that she very much doubted either Ricardo or Cara’s METs would be that easy to trace, however.
I had to agree with her. From what little I knew of Andres’s uncle, I very much doubted he would have let just anyone mess with his tech. Especially when, according to Andres, he’d had the Illudere’s Magical Engineers in his pocket the whole time. As for Cara…she’s still technically the heir to the Silverstorms, since there hadn’t been an official announcement.
Like Char’s parents, Cara had access to some of the best Magical Engineers. I doubted she’d bothered to let the resistance’s team so much as touch her MET. Honestly, it was still hard to wrap my head around the fact that she’d joined the resistance, but then again, if there was something I had learned about her after our fiasco of a relationship and her betrayal, it was that I didn’t really know her at all. If nothing else, Cara was great at lying and acting to get what she wanted.
I just wished I’d learned that about her before I’d fallen for her trap.
My phone started to vibrate in my pocket, and I pulled it out, cursing when I saw who was calling me.
My fucking brother.
“What do you want?” I said on the phone.
Char glanced at me quickly, frowning, before she shrugged and went back to work. On her screen, I caught a glimpse of a building’s schematics, and it looked an awful lot like the grounds for my family’s vacation home. The one they’d bombed.
Motherfuckers.
“Fuck you. You’re needed at the Futhark home. Our father’s calling in a meeting, and I’ve been granted the pleasant task of being the errand boy.” There was so much hatred in my brother’s tone; he didn’t even bother hiding it anymore.
“I’m busy, Dean. Can’t this wait?” Half the time, Father’s meetings were nothing but an excuse for him to test us, to pit us against each other. It made me fucking glad I didn’t have any more siblings or else things would be even worse.
I’d managed to avoid some of the meetings lately, since I was working with AMIA to find the assholes who had blown up our house. But I supposed I should’ve known I couldn’t avoid this crap forever.
“You can’t get out of it this time, asshole. Just show up so we can get this over with. Always a pleasure talking to you.” And then he hung up.
I sighed, pocketing my phone.
Fucking great timing, really.
“Problem?” Char asked, and only then did I notice she’d stopped working to look at me.
I ran a hand through my hair, messing it up. “I need to swing by my parents’, but I don’t want to leave you here on your own. If Blair was around, I’d ask her to keep you company, but…” I trailed off.
It wasn’t that I doubted Char’s ability to kick ass and take names, but after everything that happened, I was more than a little reluctant to leave her alone without someone I trusted to have her back.
Char opened her mouth to answer, but her phone started to ring.
She frowned at the screen, before closing her eyes and answering.
“Sorry,” she mouthed at me.
I just winked at her. Hopefully it would be one of her guys, and then I could maybe talk her into working from home or something. I’d feel better if she had either Andres or Bastille with her.
That thought had me stopping in my tracks.
When had I become so comfortable with this situation? With this…relationship?
Probably when you realized it would be easier to keep her safe if you had others who loved her just as much as you do, dumbass.
I couldn’t deny that was part of it. I…liked that there were others who would put their lives at risk to keep her safe when I couldn’t. Others who would do everything in their power to make her happy.
Maybe this whole harem thing wasn’t so bad.
Char jumped from her chair, looking at me when she got off the phone. “Well, big guy, looks like you’ll have your wish, after all. I need you to drop me off at my parents’s, too. Don’t worry, though, I won’t leave there without you or one of the others. The minute I’m done there, I’ll call you or maybe Andres to pick me up. Pinky promise.”
She turned to log out of the computer she’d been using, making sure to turn it off properly.
“Char, I’m not sure this is a good idea…” I tried, but she shook her head.
“No, Blaze.” She glanced at me, and I saw the determined set of her jaw. “It’s not that I want to do it, trust me. But I have to. You have duties to your family, and I owe this to mine.” She grimaced.
“Let me go with you,” I suggested. Fuck my father’s meeting. I’d find a way to make it up to him later.
But Char was already shaking her head. “If you go, they’ll fawn over you with all the bullshit and then I’ll never get out of there. I’ll be in and out in an hour, tops. Then you can play shining knight
and rescue me from the evil parents.”
“Fine. But you call me the minute you’re done. Or if you feel unsafe. Or even if you just don’t want to be there anymore. And I’ll pick you up. Our parents’s houses are close enough that I could be there in ten minutes, tops.”
Char got up on her tiptoes and kissed my cheek.
“It’s a deal. Now let’s go, before I change my mind.”
30
Charisma
I shouldn’t have come here, I think to myself, even as I stand in front of my family’s home. The house I grew up in, the house I had been kicked out of.
The place I had sworn I would never return to.
Yet, here I was. Because my parents had requested it, because they’d asked—surprisingly—nicely. It was a first.
Besides, they’d sounded desperate… Which was another first.
I mean, I knew why they were desperate; I was pretty sure I knew why I’d been asked to come here, and while I didn’t think there was anything I could do to help them, I’d come anyway.
I was curious to see if I was right, I supposed. To find out if they really were calling me about the scandal, even if there was nothing I could do to help repair their reputation after Cara fucked up so completely.
I bit my bottom lip as I stared at the three-story structure in front of me. It stood tall, imposing, with its Victorian-era architecture. It was beautiful, like something straight out of a movie, even if it was a bit…gaudy.
Not that I’d ever say that within hearing distance of my parents. Ever. I did not want to have to go through yet another lecture on the history of our house, and how it was built by my great-great-something grandfather a bazillion years ago. I respected its history, I really did. I just thought that maybe, just maybe, it was long overdue for some…redecorating.
Maybe they could change the huge double doors to put something a little more…modern, or even just take out the damn brass knocker with the Silverstorm crest from the door.
Seriously, a brass knocker.
