by K. N. Banet
Cassius only nodded in return, then walked back to the journals Leith and Sorcha were going through. I touched Raphael’s arm as I tried to pass him and got his attention.
“We’ve got this,” I promised, staring him down.
“I know,” he said with the strongest conviction I had heard from him in days. He swooped down and kissed my neck in front of everyone, sending a shiver down to my toes, then he was gone. I blinked as he sat back down in the living room and continued reading about himself and his kind.
Heading back to my office, I read the email one more time, rolling my eyes. They were right, Lewis had called me worse, but it gave me a good way to respond to him. I replied, explaining I was willing to meet the doctor at a location of his choice to do the exchange in forty-eight hours. He could pick the specific time and place. Cassius and I didn’t need anything special.
I texted Paden the name, and he sent back a thumbs up. I knew he was probably getting The Jackalope open for the day and wouldn’t be able to sit down to work on it for a few hours, but that didn’t stop me from reaching out. There was a chance I’d hit a wall before he did, and we approached information gathering in different ways. He had an entire network of people dedicated to it, while I had ten fingers and a computer—and a sharp object to threaten it out of people when necessary.
Doctor Lewis Greendale was a witch with extensive study in how witch magic and other magics interacted and could build upon each other. It was a witch-specific research field, something other species didn’t care about. Most of us were born into our abilities or changed in some way. Witches were one of the few who could invent new power out of words and thought. They could harness energies most of us couldn’t, and it took sheer hard work for them to become worthwhile. Every naga was born with deadly venom, for example, but not every witch was like Levi, who could summon unnatural storms that threatened to shut down major cities. Fae would be the closest, but the types of magic between the two species were vastly different. Fae had soft rules, and their abilities could only be loosely grouped and defined and were sometimes inaccurate. Witches had firmer rules of what was actually possible, but were always researching to discover what else could be done or how far they could stretch the limits of their understanding.
He dropped off the map fifteen years ago. I wonder why? Was it a job with Mygi to look into the properties of different supernatural species, or did he see that as a means to an end as he became more of a fanatic?
I read all of his published articles and looked at pictures of him going through school and getting awards from witch organizations around the world. To be honest, I didn’t know much about the vast supernatural world, and I wasn’t an expert in witch society. The Tribunal controlled them with their own two members sitting at the top, making sure no one went too far in the pursuit of power and knowledge. I was sent in to kill someone when it was needed. Even understanding the concept of a sorcerer versus a witch was a win for me.
An hour into my research, my email went off, and I grinned.
Doctor Greendale had gotten back to me.
Got you, motherfucker.
I printed out the instructions and sent a verification back that I would come alone with his research. My target was Mygi, and he knew that. He was a small fry, and there were bigger fish in the sea. I had a reputation to keep, of course.
It’s not my fault narcissists and egomaniacs were gullible and stupid sometimes.
I took it out to the living room, grinning once again.
“We’ve got him. Let’s make a plan.”
20
Chapter Twenty
He’d picked out a place I wouldn’t have expected, a somewhat popular saloon on Interstate Seventeen in a town called New River. As I stood in the dirt-and-gravel parking lot, I wondered if he thought the people would stop me from doing anything to him. From first impressions, it was popular with the locals and hosted small rodeo events. While the name of its town was ironic, considering we were still squarely in the desert and there was no water to make a river, the actual saloon was aptly named after a common bird in the area, a roadrunner.
I didn’t feel out of place, though I probably should have. None of my backup was around. They had parked nearly a mile away on the side of the road, waiting for me to text them a signal that Doctor Lewis Greendale was there. As it approached the meeting time, I stayed in the heat of the sun, a blistering and dry ninety-five. It was good but not as good as it could have been. I was excited for the summer, where temperatures would frequently go over a hundred.
I had a large selection of his journals in my trunk, but none of the spellbooks. He’d only asked for his research, and I brought enough to fool him into thinking that I had it all. We’d left some of the most sensitive journals at my home for safekeeping, watched over by Leith, who was using the time to categorize the spellbooks for the official report to the Tribunal. Cassius, being wealthy and powerful, had privileges most of us didn’t and was allowed to use his staff for the tedious work.
I checked the time on a cheap watch. It was three o’five.
He’s late. Is he onto us? There’s a chance he’s smart enough to figure us out, but he was pretty pissed by our actions in Sedona. He wants this back.
I was careful not to use my phone for anything. If he was watching me, I couldn’t risk him thinking I was reaching out to anyone. That would make him bolt.
At three-fifteen, I sighed. He was already long gone or purposefully being an asshole.
Does he really think making me sweat it out and wait is going to work in his favor? I’m an Executioner. Most people know I’m pissed when I wake up, and I don’t need much to find an excuse to kill an idiot.
It was three-thirty when a rundown junker drove up, and he got out on the other end of the parking lot. I didn’t glare. I nodded respectfully, then gestured to the front door of the saloon.
We met five feet in front of the door.
“Let’s talk,” I said kindly, smiling but not showing any teeth. “How are you today?”
“I’ve been better,” he snapped. He did not like me. It was clear he would rather talk to anyone but me that afternoon, but I was who he had to bargain with.
We got a table inside, which was much quieter than the patio seating area. The fans worked well to keep the room cooler than outside, but it was still warm compared to any high-end dining experience. They kept their restaurants frigid, in my opinion.
He was glaring at me. I ordered a drink with the friendly server who stopped by, and he spit out the word water like it was an attack. When the server left, he continued to glare.
“Be nice,” I murmured softly. “You’re already late, and I have what you want. We’re going to keep up appearances and have a nice chat to discuss the terms of this transaction. You will not be an asshole. I told you in the email, you’re a small fish in the sea, Doctor. But a fish is a fish, and I am the fisherman, so watch yourself.”
He looked away from me and glared at the wall.
“I can’t believe I have to degrade myself by bartering with an animal.”
“Wow,” I said, lifting my eyebrows in mock surprise. Animal was not an uncommon insult. Lots of supernaturals had some sort of animalistic nature or ability. “I guess you don’t want your research back.” I slowly stood. “The drinks are cheap. You can get the check.”
“Don’t. Move.”
I looked down, remaining calm, and saw the gun he was resting on his thigh, pointing up at me. I was blocking everyone’s view.
“Sit back down,” he ordered. “I spent decades on that research. I can’t start over. I don’t even know how you found it, but I will be getting it back today.”
“If you fire that, you are at risk of human law enforcement, but more importantly, just having it pointed on me gives me the right to kill you,” I explained very, very softly. Luckily, the music was loud enough to drown out my words just enough that people close to us looked at us like a weird couple in the middle of a breakup o
r bad date, then went back to their business. “Ask yourself if you want that sort of problem. You were involved with the prison outbreak. You probably know how I handled it. Do you think you can beat me?”
“Just sit back down,” he said, his words losing a layer of confidence.
I did as he asked and listened very closely to the safety click.
“Now, let’s bargain,” I said, putting my hands on the table, palms up. “I have your research. It’s been an interesting read and has helped my cambion friend learn more about himself. That’s all we needed. We’re really after Mygi, a big corporation that needs to go down for its undue influence on the Tribunal and the species of supernaturals in the world, including witches.”
I stopped talking as our server came back with our drinks, then put in an order for an appetizer and told her we weren’t planning on ordering entrées. The fewer interruptions, the better.
“You’ve done this before,” he said, watching the server leave.
“Many times,” I confirmed, smiling innocently. “I’m a selfish person who doesn’t much care. I’m the bounty hunter Executioner. Do you really think I care all that much if small-time criminals are doing whatever they want? No, they’re also my people.” I was lying through my teeth, but it was an image I had perfected for years. Locals knew better, but Lewis wasn’t a local. He was an idiot with an obsession for the intellectual work he did and no interest in anything else. “Now, how did you pull off the prison break?”
“Mygi found me. They knew I was doing work there. They threatened to out me to the Wardens if I didn’t help them. They ruined everything I had going for me there.” He rubbed his hands together, and I was grateful the gun was safely tucked away. “They told me a few of the best prisoners to go after and who they needed to kill. I was just a middleman, and I never wanted to kill you.”
“Good to know,” I said, nodding. “Your research is in my trunk. Once we finish the appetizer, which we will both eat, I’ll leave cash to pay the bill. You can come out and get what you want. Once you have those, I expect you to tell me a lot more, Lewis. I want to know where Mygi’s research facility holding the cambions is. I want to know how to get in and out. I want the names of anyone in the upper echelon who knows of these activities. I need it all. For that, I’ll forget everything I saw at your home in Sedona.”
He nodded vigorously. “I can do all of that for you.”
“Good.” I needed to be the power player in this. I still needed to get word to my backup. As I thought of my backup, I caught Lewis staring at me in the most uncomfortable fashion. I recognized the look in his eyes, having seen it in a memory that wasn’t my own. It pissed me off and reminded me I needed justice for more than Raphael.
“If you try magic on me, I will kill you, regardless of who in this room witnesses it. I can disappear to another country, and no one would ever find me because the Tribunal would never let them. Don’t test me. The Sahara sounds really nice this time of year. I’ve always wanted to visit, and I’m only a hundred and seventeen. I’m still young enough to travel.”
He flushed and looked down. The last part of my insult was uncalled for. Doctor Lewis was sixty and looked every single one of those years. That was, to me, the funniest part about witch radicals who believed they should be the dominant supernatural species. They were human and would have ninety years on this earth if they played their cards right. I would look the exact same, so long as I didn’t get myself killed. There was the disgusting smell of jealousy in the entire movement, but I stayed clear of it, and it was a small movement. I had witches I liked enough to give my business, but I didn’t involve myself in their politics for a reason.
The food came, and we both made a token effort to eat and look normal. People would cast us strange looks, probably confused how two very different people came to have a tense meal at their saloon, but no one said anything. Once the food was done, I put a bill on the table and walked away. It was more than enough to cover the meal and tip the server well. Looking around, I led him to the trunk of my car. I was glad to see Cassius had decided to pull up closer. I couldn’t see him behind the tinted glass, but I knew it was his SUV. I had memorized that license plate ages ago.
I unlocked my car and opened the trunk.
“Take a good look,” I said. “That’s everything.”
“Where are my spellbooks?” he demanded, glaring at me as he realized something was missing.
“You asked for your research,” I said with a grin. “Not your spells.”
“Excuse me?”
“You shouldn’t try to bargain with someone who can call a fae prince,” I murmured sweetly. Cassius was already moving toward us. “You shouldn’t bargain with an Executioner when you tried to spell her uncle into killing her, either. There’s a number of things you should have thought about clearly, like the fact that I’m in charge of a cambion, and you had one locked in your basement, suffering for whatever reason you thought was worth it.”
He tried to step back, but I grabbed him with my left hand as I pulled a dagger with my right. I put it to his neck with a smile, knowing the position of my vehicle blocked the view of the humans inside.
“Scream, and I cut. Do magic, and I bite,” I warned, smiling wider to expose my fangs as Cassius pulled into the parking lot, kicking up gravel, and parked right next to us. Raphael and Sorcha jumped out and pulled the guy into the SUV. I closed my trunk and jumped into my own driver’s seat. Together we left, knowing there probably wasn’t a human who had seen or noticed.
People got abducted in broad daylight all the time.
We drove to Phoenix, heading for Cassius’ house, which was public record. It also had nothing the son of a bitch wanted and more backup in the form of Terry, a werewolf who liked to spend his days in the kitchen.
I arrived last and got to watch with satisfaction as they dragged Lewis inside. I followed, humming a pop song I heard on the radio. When I got inside, I saw Cassius binding Lewis to a chair for a long talk. I slowly walked up as they stepped out of my way and smiled viciously down at the sorcerer.
“Hi, I’m Executioner Kaliya Sahni. I see you’ve met my associates, Lord and Lady of the fae, Cassius and Sorcha. You already know one of my friends, Raphael Dominic Alvarez, or C-17 as Mygi designated him.”
His eyes were wide and fearful.
“We never had any intention of letting you go. Cassius, what are the crimes for which he will stand before the Tribunal?”
“Murder, illegal ownership of prohibited goods, illegal use of dark magics, summoning demons, consorting with demons, and abusing a protected species. That last one is thanks to you and your idea to protect Raphael.”
“I know,” I purred, still smiling at Lewis as though I was ready to do a line of coke and throw a party. I felt a little unhinged. Now, this motherfucker was where I wanted him. “But maybe we can get a couple of those dropped. Not all of them, of course, but one or two.”
“We can probably pin the decision to summon demons on Mygi and say you were coerced into it based on your employment with them.” Cassius shrugged.
“It’s still a death sentence,” Lewis said softly.
“Then you need to work a little harder. Now you’re bargaining for your life,” I said with a hiss. “Where’s the Mygi lab?”
“It’s right on the border of Colorado and Wyoming, deep in the Rockies. They’ve got it heavily protected from the sight of humans and technologies. If you make it past the repulsion spells, you can finally see it. Trying to leave will fuck up your memory unless you have a charm they give only the best of employees. I had to steal one to leave.”
“Do you still have it?” I asked, tilting my head to the side and staring him down.
“No. Mygi took it back from me when they came after me. The only reason I’m alive is I had already started my own research in the prison, and they thought that was useful. If I helped them, they promised never to come after me again.”
“Did they want Raphael bac
k?” I asked softly, leaning in closer.
“I think they just wanted all of you dead,” he answered, sweat beading on his forehead. “Dead and quiet. You’re threatening everything they’ve built.” His eyes flicked to Raphael on my right. “And he’s dangerous.”
“How?” I demanded, grabbing his shirt. “How is Raphael dangerous?”
“He’s high ranking. Cambions have a biological ranking structure. They probably hated that he escaped, but it’s a nightmare for him to go back. Especially now that he has the support of the Tribunal.”
“What ranking system?” Raphael asked softly, then he looked around at us, and I stayed quiet. Somehow, in the last three days, he hadn’t seen that journal yet, and I wanted to kick myself. “Why is no one surprised by that? And they would listen to me?”
“Oh, their magic has you fucked up, doesn’t it?” Lewis sneered. “Cambions have the same ranking structure as demons, which many religions and demonologists have tried to put together, some more accurate than others. Raphael’s demon genetics make him what a fae would consider a lord, a noble, more powerful than something further down the ladder. Though these are demons, so maybe a warlord would be more apt,” he explained. I couldn’t tell if he was just fascinated by his own voice or was rambling because he thought it would save him. Either worked for me. “Demons are like fae, but a different realm and more powerful, you see.” This time he glanced toward Cassius and Sorcha. “There are different varieties, but they’re all marked by the realm they live in. They’re all demons.”
“How am I a cambion but not my parents?” Raphael asked. “Can you answer that?”
“No,” he said, looking up at Raphael again. “We’ve found genetic markers in cambions that can be activated that don’t rightfully match either of their parents, even if the relation is clear in other areas.”
“How did you get involved?”
“I was brought in for my other research,” he said, swallowing. “Into werewolves and vampires, but the cambions…they sometimes needed all hands for them, and I got absorbed in the project.”
