Karleen, Gabrielle, and I all shared a look. Karleen spoke. “Let them come.”
Sloane blinked her astonishment.
“You’re sure?” Her voice was soft and quiet, almost as if she feared their answer would change in a moment.
I nodded. “Very sure. Let’s get you set up in the hotel for now. While Karleen goes with Vicki tomorrow, we can start working on clearing your name.” I grimaced. “If I’m going to be honest, we’ll probably lose most of tomorrow just figuring out who all is after you. I kinda hope those nameless suits show up, too; it would help us to understand who they are and what they want.”
The infirmary door slid open, and I turned to look. Buddy Carrington stepped through and headed straight to me.
“Alpha Wyatt, there are a handful of suits over in the diner hassling everyone about some woman they were chasing through the woods west of town. They look pretty rough, too. All mud-soaked and ratty. I think they had some problems.”
“How’d you get away?” Gabrielle asked.
Buddy grinned. “I was across the street. Saw ‘em get out of some blacked-out SUVs and heard ‘em start with the questions when the lead guy only had one foot in the diner’s door.”
I turned to my sister. “You feel like helping out with an interrogation?”
Vicki scanned the faces looking at her, then turned back to me. “I won’t be helping you start a war with the Feds, will I?”
“I don’t see how,” Gabrielle replied. “If they’re honestly Feds, they’re violating the treaty we have with them, because we police our own. They should’ve passed word to the Shifter Council. If they’re not Feds, then they’re guilty of quite a few crimes.”
Karleen snorted a laugh. “They’re guilty of crimes, either way. They killed the Higgins couple and burned down their farm. Besides, with the way Sloane’s case appears to be on the surface, there’s no way the Council wouldn’t call the Huntress to handle it. So, no matter who they are, they’re ours.”
“Huntress?” Sloane squeaked. “You all know the Huntress?”
Gabrielle hung her head as Karleen pointed at her with a thumb. Sloane’s eyes went wide.
“Relax,” Karleen said, placing a hand on Sloane’s. “We know you’re telling the truth about what happened.”
I looked Sloane right in her eyes. “Will you wait here for us? We can help you get all this sorted out, but only if you stay here with us and don’t run off.”
Sloane held my eyes with her own for several moments before she looked down at her lap. “You promise you’re not just going to hand me over to them?”
I gave her my best encouraging nod. “Yes, I absolutely one-hundred-percent promise they will not get their hands on you. We, however, will absolutely get our hands on them.”
Vicki beamed. “Let’s go interrogate some people. I’ve always wanted to practice my Charm spell.”
* * *
When we left the infirmary building, we found a sight that made my blood boil. The muddy suits had Gladys pressed up against one of their SUVs, telling her all the various ways impeding federal agents would go poorly for her. The guy talking waved his hand with his index finger pointing in Gladys’s general direction, emphasizing his points.
In a way, though, it was kind of funny. We were downwind of them, and the scents carried on the breeze told us they were plain-jane, vanilla humans. I had no idea how old Gladys was, but even a newly adult pup could ruin ten humans’ day; the six surrounding her wouldn’t be much of an obstacle if she decided to end the farce and go back to her diner.
I eased to a stop behind the suits and crossed my arms, putting on what I hoped was my best ‘unhappy Alpha’ expression.
Gladys pointed at me, saying, “Boys and girls, the one you need to speak with is right behind you. I just run the diner.”
One of the suits—a woman—glanced behind her and saw us. The suit standing closest to Gladys tilted his head to the side and replied, “Come on. That old trick?”
The woman who saw us tapped the talker on the shoulder, but he brushed her off.
“Child,” Gladys said, her voice almost weary, “I’m getting tired of repeating myself, and you’re keeping me from my business. You have no concept of what I am or even how old I am, so I suggest you get your finger out of my face before I bite it off and make you regret ever being born. Or… I suppose I could just stand here and watch the guy who runs the town wipe the asphalt with you.”
“Now, see here,” the man replied, “that kind of attitude will only—”
“Gladys,” I interrupted the man, “go back to the diner. I’ll handle this.”
One of the suits moved as if to stop her, and I raised an eyebrow. Our eyes locked. He let Gladys pass.
“Show me some identification,” I said, my arms crossed over my chest.
The man who had been accosting Gladys took a few steps toward me. “You are impeding—”
“I’ll do more than impede you in just a few seconds unless I see ID.”
“You do not have the authority to—”
I said one word, “Sis.”
Vicki recited something that made me think of Ancient Sumerian, and each of the people in muddy suits swayed on their feet as rings of pastel-colored light particles swirled around their heads in halos.
“Who are you?” Vicki asked.
“I’m Ronald Tomlinson,” the man said, gazing at Vicki with unbridled adoration in his eyes.
“Okay. Who do you work for?”
Ronnie shook his head. “Oh, I’m not supposed to tell anyone that, Mistress, but you are such a wonderful person. We’re United States Black Ops. Deep, deep Black Ops. Our unit existed before the big merger that created the Joint Special Operations Command, and somehow, everyone kind of missed us. I’m not really sure who we answer to anymore, if anyone.”
Vicki nodded. “What brings you to Precious?”
“You will not believe this, Mistress. You won’t believe this at all. We have credible intelligence that there is a woman living in the country who can turn into a giant bird. We have been tasked with capturing her and returning her to our facility for study.”
My sister and I shared a look, and I nodded my head for her to proceed. “What about the treaty between the United States and the Shifter Nation of North America? I thought it was one of the country’s oldest treaties. What you’re doing kind of violates that, right?”
The man blew a raspberry and made a dismissive wave. “You really believe that old wives’ tale? We haven’t been able to get anyone to verify that such a treaty ever existed, let alone show it to us. Next, you’ll be telling us there are actually Magi and Fae and all that other stuff.”
“So, where’s your facility then?”
Ronnie beamed. “A couple hours north of the Grand Tetons. We’re buried under one of the mountains in the Rockies. I’ve seen builders’ plaques dating back to the early Cold War, and we’ve added and expanded over the years since then.”
“Why don’t we go to the town’s admin building?” I pointed to it down the street. “We can be much more comfortable and discuss things further.”
We could also set up the conference room to record everything. I wanted everything safely stored away somewhere it could be retrieved and verified at will.
“Oh, that sounds like a lovely idea, sir,” Ronnie chirped. “I’m sure Mistress is getting tired, standing out here in the sun.”
I turned and moved close to Gabrielle, whispering low enough that the humans around us couldn’t hear. “Get everything set up to record in the conference room.”
Gabrielle nodded and jogged ahead of us.
Then, I asked Karleen to wait until we were inside the conference room, then get Sloane settled in the hotel. It didn’t look like clearing her name was going to be as much of a chore as I first thought.
* * *
Over the next few hours, we collected an obscene amount of information about who these six individuals were, who their overall unit was,
and what they knew or didn’t know about Sloane and shifters in general. One of the men confessed to murdering Mr. and Mrs. Higgins, and the apparent leader admitted to setting the fires. The fact they thought the greater shifter community was a hoax perpetrated on the fledgling federal government struck me as either rather odd or rather sad, possibly a little of both.
Once we had the pertinent information, we took them to the county jail, where the sheriff and his deputies processed them before providing each person a set of pleasant orange sweats. More than one deputy couldn’t believe how compliant they were. The second each person occupied their own individual cell, having willingly surrendered any and all hidden items they might have used to attempt escape, Vicki canceled the charm spells and left them to stew in despair over how much information they gave us.
Outside the jail, I thanked my sister for her help with a brotherly hug. The moment she teleported back to our grandparents’ house, I headed off in search of Alistair.
* * *
I found him just as he locked up his office for the evening. He took one look at me and unlocked the door, waving for me to join him. Then, invited me to sit. I sat in the one my grandfather had occupied when he came to Precious looking for me, and Alistair sat in the one opposite it.
“All right, lad. Even as old a wolf as I am can tell you have something on your mind. How can I help?”
I took twenty minutes outlining everything we knew at that point, starting with seeing Karleen return to town with someone on her motorcycle and carrying through to turning the six suits over to the sheriff.
When I finally ran down, Alistair leaned back against his seat and shook his head. “Damn, lad. You don’t do anything in half measures.”
I shrugged. “So, what do you think? How should we handle this? Take this to the Shifter Council for them to take to the Feds?”
Alistair looked up at the ceiling, his eyes flicking side to side. I had only seen him this deep in thought one other time. After several moments, he brought his eyes back to me and nodded.
“Yes, Wyatt. That is exactly what we do. It’s the only response that doesn’t at least carry bad connotations for us. I’ll need to check a map to be sure, but it doesn’t sound like this facility of theirs is inside one of our territories. So, if we attack them in response to what they’ve done, we’re de facto attacking the United States. That’s not an anthill I want to kick over.”
I nodded my understanding and sighed. “Okay. I’ll get you the recordings for you to take to the—”
“Oh, no, lad. For something like this, you need to be there and present the recordings. We might even want to take this Sloane Martinez, so the council can hear that she’s honest when she tells her story. Where is she now?”
“She should be in the hotel. Karleen was supposed to take her there from the infirmary once we had all the suits in the admin building’s conference room.”
“That’s good,” Alistair remarked. “She should be comfortable until I can get a meeting with the council. It’s already too late to make those calls tonight. We might as well get some sleep and start this fresh in the morning.”
I smiled as we both stood. “Thank you, Alistair. I appreciate all your help and counsel.”
Alistair clapped me on the shoulder as we left his office. “Think nothing of it, lad. Your grandfather saved my life many times over during the war. The least I can do is help you find your way.”
4
Karleen and Vicki stood on the sidewalk outside a massive high-rise in the heart of a major urban center. People lined the sidewalk around them, and the first thing Karleen noticed was the ambient assault on her sense of smell.
“Goodness,” Karleen growled, fighting the urge to scowl, “where are we? The very air reeks.”
Vicki scrunched up her nose and nodded. “It’s bad enough even I can smell it, and I’m not quite sure where we are. A city, obviously, but they just gave me the building’s coordinates where they wanted to meet me.”
Karleen shot Vicki a look, her eyebrows inching upward. “You can teleport to geographical coordinates? Can all Magi do that?”
Vicki grinned and bobbed her head. “As long as they’re Master-certified or higher. I passed my Master exam about three weeks ago now.”
“Congratulations,” Karleen replied. “Now, come on. Hopefully, the inside smells better than the outside.”
Mitchell Cavendish stepped into the security office and walked straight to the staffer who summoned him. “Report.”
“Sir, Victoria Magnusson is here, and she’s right on time,” the young woman said. “She has someone with her, but whoever it is doesn’t come up in any of the databases we can access. Nothing on the shifter or Magi databases, FBI facial recognition, DOD search, NCIC, VICAP, INTERPOL… nothing.”
Mitchell looked at the dark haired woman standing beside Victoria Magnusson. Part of him wanted to know who she was and where Magnusson found her. He certainly wished he knew what her capabilities were. Whoever she was, she moved like she knew her body. Ex-Mossad, maybe?
In the long run, it didn’t matter. One woman would not stop them. As soon as Magnusson stepped into the room they had specifically for meetings like this, the conclusion was foregone. If Victoria Magnusson ever wanted to breathe air as a free woman again, she would turn over all data and information related to making the various types of -bane ammunition.
“Bring the cell jammer to standby,” Mitchell said. “Activate it the moment Jeffrey ushers them into the room.”
“Yes, sir.”
The building interior didn’t smell as bad as the outside. For that, Karleen was thankful. But something was… not right.
She and Vicki arrived on the 30th floor without any problems, and the sign by the door said these people were State Department. The more people Karleen encountered, though, the more she was certain these people were not run-of-the-mill government staffers. For one thing, when they passed someone, the person’s heart rate kicked up. Not a lot, and certainly not close to the level of a fear response. Maybe momentary shock of recognition? Like maybe they knew who Vicki was?
Total speculation, but Karleen needed something to do besides watch angles and corners and doors as she followed Vicki through the corridors.
Jeffrey, their guide, stopped in front of a door labeled ‘Conference Room 4’ and opened the door for them. He was handsome enough for a human in his late 20s to early 30s, but when Karleen put him beside Wyatt in her mind, poor Jeffrey just couldn’t compete. The poor kid couldn’t give a decent roar, and he smelled like he bathed in some pungent kind of cologne.
A large oval conference table dominated the space. It looked like natural wood with a dark stain, and it was big enough that thirty-odd chairs ringed it. The walls were a pleasant off-white, and the carpet was the commercial stuff that might have been a centimeter thick, if that.
Vicki staggered a bit as she stepped into the room, and Jeffrey closed the door behind them. The sound of the door’s lock clicking was so loud, even Vicki should have heard it. Vicki seemed very unsteady on her feet as she went straight to a chair and sat.
The first thing Karleen noticed in the room’s almost unnatural quiet was the faint hum of electronic devices. Humans couldn’t hear it. Either too faint or a frequency outside their range. But that faint hum was either listening or recording devices or both.
Karleen pulled her phone out of her hip pocket and saw it showed no signal. She put that aside and brought up a notes app and typed out a message.
I can hear electronics. Assume they’re listening, watching, or both.
Vicki read the text and nodded. Then, she held out her hand for the phone. Karleen obliged her and watched her tap out her own message.
There’s some kind of anti-magic field in this room. Felt it right inside the door.
Well, damn. Someone was serious about something. Karleen looked at the wall across the room from them. It looked like simple, painted sheetrock. But there was no way to know if that w
as true without trying to break through it.
Karleen made a slow scan of the room with her eyes. No obvious cameras or even pin holes that might hide them. No smoke detectors. Just drop ceiling and florescent lights. Two doors: the one they entered and a second almost directly opposite it.
The far door clicked, then opened. Two people entered. One man and one woman. Both wore suits and neutral non-expressions. Karleen couldn’t smell any gunpowder, so they must not have been armed. Probably trusting in the anti-magic field to protect them. Idiots.
Before anyone spoke, Karleen picked up her phone and opened the voice memo app. She already had a bad feeling about the entire situation and wanted a record of what transpired.
“Good afternoon, Miss Magnusson,” the man said. “I am Mitchell Cavendish, and this is my associate, Leah Brenner. We’re here today to discuss the Magi Assembly’s repeated refusal to supply -bane ammunition to various countries around the world.”
“The recent unpleasantness in the Pacific Northwest,” Leah interjected, “has proven beyond any doubt that humans are at a disadvantage when confronting Magi and shifters.”
Mitchell nodded his agreement before returning his eyes to Vicki. He reached inside his suit jacket and produced a folded document inside a blue manuscript cover.
“This is a court order requiring you to hand over all information necessary to create -bane ammunition or weapons. If you fail to do so, the order also grants us authority to classify you as an enemy combatant, giving us the authority to hold you without due process until such time as you comply.”
Vicki lifted one hand and waved a finger in a ‘send it here’ gesture. The man slid the document across the table, which was so glossy and polished the whole surface was near frictionless. She read through the document. Then, she produced her phone and flipped through the document again, taking a picture of each page.
“What are you doing?” Leah asked.
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