I fell silent for a few seconds.
Watching Garrity exchange looks with a few others at the table, including the American I now knew to be C.I.A., I didn’t have to read them to know some version of that conversation had already taken place.
They were afraid.
So were we.
The sooner they recognized that, the better.
I pinged Mika with my light.
Instantly, I felt her and Jax focus on me.
Any news on who that guy is? I murmured in my mind. C.I.A. dude. The one Garrity brought in.
Jax’s mental voice rose at once.
We’ve confirmed the I.D., he thought at me. He’s definitely C.I.A. Apparently he’s done a lot of work with Mi6, and they let him in after Regent threw a fit about the United States being left out of the talks. We got audio on a call where Regent was ranting about being “excluded” and “vilified” by us… even though they were originally invited. We’re still doing background on the agent himself, but his name’s Weston Banks. “Westie” to his friends. He has a long history in military and private sec work.
Jax hesitated, then his thoughts grew a touch colder.
He worked with your vampire pal, back in his military days, he sent, blunt. Banks actually served under Nick for about a year. They did what the Pentagon categorized as “specialized jobs.” In Panama, the Congo, Guatemala.
There was a silence where I chewed over that.
My eyes never left Garrity and the C.I.A. agent as they continued to talk.
Anyway, we’re still looking into him, Jax added, his voice subdued and now somewhat cautious. I don’t suppose the name rings any bells with you?
No, I told him. It doesn’t. But that doesn’t mean much. Nick took his security clearances seriously. He’s never told me anything about any of those missions, or the kind of work they were doing there.
I watched Garrity lean back in his chair.
The tall human cleared his throat, aiming his eyes back at me, his handsome face now holding a harder, somehow more real look.
I was about to try and calm things down again, to reassure Garrity and the rest that we all wanted essentially the same things… but before I could, my headset let off a low, discordant, highly-distinctive series of tones.
I knew that sound.
I recognized it.
We’d picked out that exact tonal sequence so we wouldn’t have to transmit sensitive information over a potentially open line in the event of a security breach.
This particular sequence of tones, Black picked out himself.
We joked about it, standing around the massive table in the main conference room at the Raptor’s Nest. Black called it his “Oh Shit!” alarm.
It meant something bad was happening.
It meant something really, really bad was happening.
It meant EMERGENCY.
It meant 911.
Before I could click over my headset to find out what it was, Black’s voice rose in my head.
Turn on the television, doc, he sent, his thoughts tense. I’m not even going to try and describe this one…
I swallowed, but only nodded––to no one, since Black was already gone.
Even his presence had vanished.
Whatever was happening, he couldn’t stick around long enough to explain it to me.
When my eyes slid back into focus, I found Garrity looking at me, frowning.
From his expression, he thought I was reading his mind again.
His mind, and likely the minds of every human in the room.
Without bothering to reassure him on that point, I motioned towards the giant monitor on the wall just past the head of the table.
“Can you turn on the television?” I said, keeping my voice as level as I could.
It didn’t even occur to me to try and view whatever this was privately.
If it was on t.v., they were going to know about it soon enough.
“…I just heard from my people,” I added before anyone could react. “Something is happening. I’m assuming in Los Angeles. That’s where my husband is right now. He didn’t have time to explain, so I’m as in the dark as the rest of you.”
Confusion flickered across Garrity’s eyes, right before he glanced at C.I.A. asshole, who lifted an eyebrow, his poker face admittedly decent.
C.I.A. guy looked at me then, his expression still impressively difficult to read.
“Your husband?” he clarified. “That’s who contacted you?”
I nodded. Motioning a touch more impatiently at the monitor, I added as evenly as I could, “He seemed to think it was pretty urgent. He knows where I am right now… he wouldn’t have interrupted this meeting, if it wasn’t an immediate concern.”
Garrity was already motioning to one of his aids.
The woman in the dark blue power suit walked to a nearby credenza, found a remote in a top drawer and aimed it at the monitor on the wall.
She clicked it on.
The television there must have been set to one of the twenty-four-hour cable news stations already. The sound blared, making everyone around the table jump until the aid turned it down to a more reasonable volume.
Images appeared––first a glimpse of blue sky and some kind of light, then the camera swung down, showing sharper, more immediate images of Los Angeles.
Everyone around the table fell silent.
I fell silent along with them.
We’d all barely glimpsed that thing in the sky, but now the person holding the camera had that camera focused on the ground.
I realized they’d been talking the whole time, but I grew aware of the female newscaster’s voice when the person holding the smart phone with the relatively decent camera panned that camera around at their immediate surroundings.
“The phenomenon began just a few minutes ago,” the woman said, sounding breathless, but definitely speaking from the studio. “We have a full camera crew on the way down there, but right now, Rudy Nguyen is the only person we have on the scene, and he’s using his phone…”
In the jumping, jostled video, I noted a twenty-foot, cement outer wall I recognized in the background of a glass-fronted building. I knew the purpose of that wall; it hid the backlot of a movie studio I recognized as well, mostly from the photos Black had been texting me all morning, maybe figuring I’d be more calm about his insane interview if I felt more involved, or could at least picture where he was.
It only occurred to me later that he might also have done it as a form of “emergency backup.” Meaning, if something really bad went down, I’d know exactly where and how to find him, in the event I needed to pop in with some form of damage control.
I could tell from the angle that whoever was shooting the video, they remained outside the wall, on the street near one of the studio access gates.
A crowd of people jostled and knocked into the person recording on their phone.
Half of the people making up that crowd held phones up, aiming them at the sky.
I wasn’t all that interested in the crowd though, to be honest.
I wanted him to point the camera up again… at that odd light.
As it was, it was reflecting strangely on the faces of the crowd, washing out and polarizing the color and shadows, washing out and distorting the faces and skin tone of the people who obviously stood directly belong it.
“What the bloody hell…” Garrity muttered.
He and his aid exchanged grim looks.
I pinged Mika and Jax with my light.
My eyes never left the wall monitor.
They were still showing the crowd.
Without waiting for Jax or Mika to speak, I sent words in their direction.
If you’re not watching television, turn it on. Make sure Yarli and the others back in San Francisco are monitoring this, too.
I felt them acknowledge my words.
My eyes refocused on the monitor.
The newscasters’ voices rose.
�
��…That phenomenon in the sky hasn’t repeated,” the male of the pair was saying. “We’re waiting on some footage from when it initially occurred. But how to describe it, Lani?”
“A really bright light,” the woman commentator said, obviously still watching the monitor herself. “We’re told it flashed around a dark space, almost like an eclipse. Witnesses on the ground described it as a ‘big hole’ in the sky… like some kind of projection, or optical illusion. It was reported that something came through it…”
A surge of… something… hit at me, right in the chest.
Foreboding. Misgiving.
Plain old fear.
Maybe it came from some kind of supernatural, built-in alarm system.
Whatever it was, a flash of knowing came with it.
I knew what caused this.
I knew what had come through that “hole” in the sky.
Not exactly, but I knew in terms of ballpark.
But it couldn’t be.
I couldn’t possibly be right.
Nothing could do that.
Nothing.
Except me.
The thought brought another wave of panic through my living light. I was about to reach out to Yarli, to Mika, to Jax, maybe even Dalejem––
A BOOM rumbled out of the monitor speakers, fuzzing them out briefly.
Everyone at the table jumped.
The crowd on the other side of the television erupted in gasps and cries.
The two newscasters gasped with the crowd, staring at the images on the monitor.
The camera phone tilted up, flashing white in the sun, then showing an image of blue sky, broken by large, white clouds.
The reporter on the ground, presumably Rudy Nguyen, gasped like he’d been running, or maybe like he was in the beginnings of a panic attack. He spoke into a microphone that fuzzed in and out, distorted by the yells, pushing, and other panicked sounds and chaos around him.
Meanwhile, the camera on his phone continued to jerk and lose focus.
I struggled to see what he pointed the damned thing at.
I wanted to yell at the television to tell him to keep still.
Then a shadow covered the light.
I saw a glimpse of a massive, gray-colored wing, covering the sun.
Everyone at the table cried out, flinching back for real.
The French President and the German Chancellor rose to their feet.
They backed away from the table.
Somewhere in that, I’d gotten to my feet as well.
Now over half the table stood around the wall monitor, staring at the flickering images. Shadows cut into the sunlight. I felt my heart pound, my breath start to hitch.
Then I heard it.
That tell-tale, echoing scream into the sky.
8
A New Problem
BLACK. I threw my light and mind at him, my thoughts hard as glass. BLACK WE TALKED ABOUT THIS… I THOUGHT YOU WEREN’T GOING TO DO THIS.
Silence.
I remembered he’d never actually agreed to not do this.
I’d told him not to do it, and he’d more or less blown me off.
I fought not to think about the gray-white, mottled, boulder-like skin I’d seen in those flashing images, or the darker gray leather of those wings… neither of which was anything remotely like the shimmering, iridescent black I associated with my husband’s dragon form.
I bit my lip at the thought… then shook it off.
It had to be a trick of the light.
Something wrong with the camera.
BLACK! I yelled into the space. ANSWER ME DAMN IT!
Then something else occurred to me.
I wasn’t totally sure he could answer me in this form.
It hadn’t really hit me until that exact second, but I couldn’t remember actually talking to him when he’d been a dragon before.
I don’t think I’d ever even tried.
Really, seeing Black as a dragon had been an almost mystical experience for me.
Both times I’d encountered his dragon before, I’d watched him until it seemed time to bring him back. Then it hadn’t required speaking to bring him back to me. He’d come back more or less on his own, as soon as he’d seen me, and I opened my light to his.
I watched now as shadows flitted across the screen, trying to get another glimpse of the creature itself. The camera jumped and jolted too much. Screams rent the air, and I tried to decide if I should leave the room, look for a quieter place… a closet maybe… to open a damned dimensional portal and go get my husband.
I looked around at the pale faces at the table.
The only one who met my gaze was Weston “Westie” Banks, of the C.I.A.
Shadows and light flickered across his pale blue eyes from the monitor, and I looked away. My jaw hardened. I turned towards the door to the conference room––
Miri?
I froze, my eyes swiveling back to the wall monitor.
Black?
I felt the preoccupation on him, the half-attention he gave me.
I refocused on the monitor.
The phone’s camera pointed up once more, but couldn’t find the dragon at first.
Then a glimpse of a rough white… something… passed overhead. The gray-white skin reminded me or rock, or possibly a rhino’s hide, or an elephant’s. Again, it looked nothing like what I remembered of Black, the two times I’d seen him as a dragon.
That mottled, bulging, lumpy flesh rippled across and filled the monitor. Despite its size, the animal moved so quickly, I could barely glimpse it before it was gone.
Still, everything about it felt off.
It felt even more off when I realized how clear Black’s voice sounded.
Shouldn’t he sound a little different, at least?
Black, what are you doing? Why didn’t you answer me?
I felt amusement on him.
I’m a little busy right now, love––
But I couldn’t deal with amused, snarky Black right then.
I thought we talked about this! I snapped. I know you said you wanted to do it, but what the hell are you up to right now? This isn’t some bland demonstration! You’re terrorizing people… in the middle of damned Hollywood!
I forced myself to stop.
It took biting my lip hard enough to taste blood, but I forced myself to stop.
I wanted to yell the damned words out loud.
I really had to fight not to use my outdoor voice.
Hearing another keening scream echo through the otherwise-silent conference room, I forced myself to calm my mind.
Honey–– Black began.
Black, don’t. Just don’t. I fought to calm my mind, couldn’t. I don’t want to hear it. Not now. Just tell me how to stop this. Do you need me to come there? Are you able to change back on your own, or do you need me to––
Miri. He felt bewildered now. I don’t think you––
Just tell me what the hell you need! I snapped.
I felt a kind of stunned silence settle over him.
BLACK! I snapped.
But he seemed to come out of his shock.
Darlin’, he sent, his mind a touch sharp. That ain’t me.
Black–– I began angrily.
MIRIAM.
His mind slammed into mine, a hot gust of wind.
It stunned me briefly into silence.
WIFE… THAT IS NOT ME. IT IS NOT ME! HOW COULD YOU POSSIBLY THINK THAT IS ME? I’M WITH GRANT STEELE IN A STUDIO BUILDING RIGHT NOW!
Silence fell over both of our minds.
I felt him take a breath, like he had to fight to dial it back.
Then his words came out almost normal.
Gaos, Miriam. Have I messed you up that badly with my erratic, idiosyncratic shit over the years? What you’re saying doesn’t even make any sense.
Not bothering to wait for a reply, Black added,
Seriously, I don’t know how the hell you think I could just casually chat with yo
u while dive-bombing a movie studio and breathing fire. He sounded like some part of him found the idea darkly funny as he said it, despite the near-incredulity still in his voice. Or how I’d just be like, “ho-hum, wife… just calling to say ‘howdy’ while I terrorize Los Angeles and scare humans into thinking they probably need to nuke me––”
Black–– I began angrily.
No, Miri. No. His thought grew overtly warning. Stop. Just stop, honey. Okay? Think about what you’re saying. Take a breath, doc, and think. Think. Does what you just accused me of make any kind of sense, whatsoever?
He paused, like he meant his words literally.
Like he wanted me to really think about it.
For some reason, I did.
I realized why I was screaming at him.
My heart pounded in my chest. My breathing was tight, labored. I’d already sweated through the blouse and jacket I wore. Worse than any of that, I felt sick, like I might throw up. I felt sick to my stomach, on the verge of tears.
I was terrified.
Some part of me had known all along that it wasn’t Black.
How? I sent finally.
My thoughts came out deadened that time.
Black seemed to feel the change in me. He completely dropped his more sarcastic, cocky, drive-me-crazy-for-fun demeanor.
I don’t know, he sent frankly.
Is it after you? Is it attacking you?
We probably need to assume it’s here because of me, right? he sent. That’s not just my famous narcissism talking, is it? I mean, it’s not like a dragon showing up here, in all places, could possibly be a coincidence.
His thoughts grew a touch more amused.
I’m a little offended you didn’t recognize me, doc. I would have thought I would be more memorable to my own wife, even in that form. I didn’t realize I was just another dragon to you––
Don’t joke about this, I warned. I think I might throw up if you do. I might throw up anyway, but if you start joking about this––
His mind stripped itself of humor.
Did you see the whole thing?
Briefly, I forgot he wasn’t there, with me, in the flesh.
I shook my head.
No.
Black Of Wing: A Quentin Black Paranormal Mystery Romance (Quentin Black Mystery Book 14) Page 7
