Psychic Undercover [With The Undead]

by Amie Gibbons

  “No, I didn’t,” Crowley said. “I was supposed to be a decoy Grant was going to discover was in on it and we hoped that would flush the real summoner out since he’d assume we’d only be looking for the demon. It worked too, just not quite right.”

  “When the demon attacked and started shooting, it disappeared into the crowd,” Grant said, “but Crowley, Mender and I had suppressed guns on us in case we needed them tonight. He ran because the demon disappeared and Len assumed it was him and grabbed him.”

  “Which I totally planned,” Crowley said. “That wasn’t me being a dumbass and trying to go after the demon at all.”

  “Uh-huh,” Grant said.

  “It worked, didn’t it?”

  “But how did you know it was Irish?” I asked.

  Grant met my eyes. “You mentioned you almost never got visions off him, and he didn’t want to come tonight. Call it a hunch.”

  “Isn’t that assuming, General?” I asked.

  “No.” And he gave me his full beautiful smile, making my heart flutter. “When I’m doing that, it’s following up on a lead. When you do it, it’s assuming.”

  I rolled my eyes. “So you’re not a traitor?”

  Crowley snorted. “It’d take a hell of a lot more than money to get me to turn my back on my people.”

  “Okay, duh. I mean, you’re like Grant. You couldn’t be a traitor, cuz you’re like mister loyalty, and besides, Grant would’ve known. I would say I would’ve known, but obviously that’s not true cuz Irish was and I didn’t know. How could I not know? What good is being psychic if I can’t even tell you when one of our own went to the dark side? I’m so sorry, Grant. I should be fired. No, worse, I should be chained to the desk again, or still, cuz I’m pretty sure you’re not letting me off desk until I finish those reports. But you know what I mean. It was bad. He was our friend. I should’ve known. None of this would’ve happened if I’d just focused on him more. I mean I could’ve saved Milo and the other vamps.” Ice filled my stomach. “She turned him a month ago. I could’ve saved those poor girls. I sh-”

  “Stop,” Grant said, catching my shoulders in those big bear hands. “None of this is your fault. Don’t even think it. That’s an order.”

  “That’s an order I can’t follow, sir.”

  “Hey.” Quil appeared at my elbow.

  “Anyone else dead?” I asked.

  He nodded. “Two of my people at the door when the demon ran.”

  So the two piles of clothes I saw. “Any more?”

  “No, but Jade’s gone.”

  “Yeah, I saw her slip out.”

  “Ariana, you can’t kill her.”

  “What?”

  “We don’t have any proof it was her. Our witnesses are all dead and as far as I can tell, they did all the work.”

  “We don’t need proof! This isn’t a courtroom.”

  “Except it kind of is. If I try to kill her without cause.” He held up a finger. “That we can prove, I’ll be the traitor.”

  I searched his face. “No, you can’t be serious.”

  “If it was the Governor of Tennessee and you had no proof, what would you do?”

  “Holy crap on kittens. I’ll kill her then.”

  “If it were that easy, I would have done it already.”

  “But she’s out there, and she wants you dead… and me dead!”

  “And now I know it so I can be ready for her, but this won’t be solved by a well-aimed bullet, even a silver one.”

  I blew out a breath. “So now what?”

  “If I tell people here, they won’t believe me, because who would attack her own nest? But I may be able to get to my people, in time.”

  “And until then?”

  “We watch our backs?” He shrugged.

  Grant nodded next to him. “We’ll help, if we can.”

  Quil took his hand. “Thank you. I have a feeling I will need it. She knows I know now.”

  I frowned. “Maybe not. None of the people working for her lived, right? And they were taken out in the heat of battle, pretty much, so how would she know any of them told us it was her?”

  Quil’s mouth dropped. “Good point.”

  “She doesn’t know we know,” I said. “It gives us the advantage.”

  “And maybe this was enough of a blow to the nest she won’t try it again for a while,” Grant said.

  “I’ll still have to watch my back,” Quil said.

  I smiled. “Yeah, but you don’t have to do it alone.”

  He kissed me.

  epilogue

  “Okay, here is the patient’s chocolate,” I said, keepin’ my voice low just in case any of the busybody nurses were wanderin’ past Dan’s room.

  They were strict about their rule that he not get anything but the hospital designated food and he (and his sweet tooth) was going stir crazy after only two days in the hospital.

  When the ambulance showed up after the whole disaster two nights ago, the vamps scattered, leaving us to try to explain the mess to the humans.

  Grant told the EMTs there was a sting, it was classified, and we needed medical treatment.

  They sent the cops to talk to us after gettin’ us to the hospital and we stuck to the classified thing.

  Hey, it was… sort of.

  “Thanks,” Dan said, actually sounding like he meant it as I handed him the chocolate bar.

  “You didn’t get this from me,” I said.

  “Get what?” He took a giant bite, practically takin’ out half the bar at once.

  He rolled a finger at me. “So catch me up.”

  “Well, Grant’s doin’ better. I think it took him a while to recharge after whatever he did there.” I held up my arm, showing off my bright blue bandage. “My arm was cut pretty deep but they don’t think there was any permanent damage. I just need some physical therapy after it heals up a bit. Jet and Kat are okay, the vamps are healing, should be okay.”

  He swallowed. “When are they interviewing for the lab tech position?”

  “They already have a stack of applicants. The basic interviews to weed some out start tomorrow, then Grant’ll take those to interview. He already asked me to help, but that won’t be for another two weeks or so.”

  “Help?”

  “You know, touch them, find out if any have any big bad secrets. Not that I was much help with the last one.”

  “No, cut it out. I’m not Jet, I’m not going to let you cry on my shoulder about how bad you feel. You want a pity parade, call him or Kat.”

  I made a face.

  “Why are you the one bringing me chocolate?” he asked.

  He’d just called up the office, begging for someone not in scrubs and obviously trying out for the part of Nurse Ratched to visit with him over lunch and bring him chocolate since the surgery to fix his leg wasn’t till tonight and he was going nuts.

  “Cuz I am, okay,” I said.

  “Thanks,” he said.

  I broke into a grin. “You’re welcome.”

  “Don’t get all girly on me. We’re not going to braid each other’s hair or anything. But ya know, if you want to come over for a game or something...”

  “What? You like me now or something?”

  He scowled at me. “This is what I get for trying to be nice. You did good the other night, and I figure it won’t hurt to have you there to touch the TV now that you’re getting a hang of this psychic thing, that’s all.”

  “Ohhhhh,” I said, eyes wide. “Like have the psychic touch the TV and see who’s gonna win so I can call my bookie, right?”

  He shrugged. “Something like that. You’re not completely useless.”

  “Gee, thanks. I’ll see what I can do. Oh right, this morning we went over to Irish’s.”

  “And?” Dan asked, landing hard blue eyes on mine.

  “We found the girls’ missing purses, underwear, and shoes there. I got a vision of Irish telling the demon to take them so we’d think sex-murderer. The demon kept one
shoe from each though, and took it with him each morning when he left.”

  “Sick.”

  I nodded and glanced at the clock on the wall. “I gotta go, paperwork.”

  “He still got you on that?”

  “Of course, it’s Grant. There’s no such thing as a ‘get out of jail free’ card with him.”

  “Don’t I know it. Did I ever tell you about the Belle Meade ghost?”

  I shook my head.

  “I will after I’m sprung. Grant was pissed. Jet and I were on desk for a month.”

  “I’m hooked,” I said as I stood and waved goodbye.

  Vandy hospital wasn’t too far from the office, so I was back within my lunch hour even after stopping off to grab a sandwich on the way.

  I plopped back at my desk and dove into another stack of papers.

  Grant was at his, buried under his own stack as he did the official report and the longer one, like the ones I was working on, at the same time for the case we just closed.

  I couldn’t imagine the red tape nightmare all of that would be.

  But of course Grant would do the paper on this one himself. This was no normal case. This was not only big cuz of the new treaty with the vamps, but also cuz one of our own was the killer, once removed, but still.

  Jet was helping out in the lab, mostly schlepping cuz he doesn’t know any more about the intricacies of the sciences than I do.

  “Ryder?” I looked up, it was Mender.

  Oh dear.

  “Can I help you with something?” I asked with a huge smile.

  “Can I talk to you?”

  She did not sound like the calm collected Mender I knew.

  I nodded and got up. Grant gave us a look and I met it with pleading puppy eyes.

  He sighed and waved.

  We hightailed it down the hall to the bathroom.

  “Did you tell him?” she asked the second the door was closed.

  I knew she meant Grant. He wasn’t her boss, technically she only had to answer to Director Foster, but technically doesn’t really mean anything.

  “No.” I shook my head.

  “Has he asked?”

  “No.”

  “And if he does?”

  I paused. What would I do?

  “I’ll tell him what I saw had nothing to do with the case and it’s a personal issue.”

  “Okay.” She nodded.

  “You guys okay?” I held up my hands. “Not that it’s any of my business, but…” I shrugged.

  “Yeah. I get why he lied.”

  “Do you know why Grant asked him to play the bad guy?”

  She smirked and rolled her eyes. “I actually asked him that. He said Grant told him he was the next best liar Grant knew, and they’d have to be able to sell it.”

  “Who’s the best liar?”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Grant is.”

  “Oh!”

  She opened the door. “Hey, good job last night.”

  “Thanks, Mender.”

  I rubbed my arms, gave myself a second, and went back to working on those stupid reports.

  My phone rang around five and my heart sang as I swiped it on.

  “Hey, Quil!” I tried to sound professional as I flipped my chair around for a bit of privacy.

  “Hi, sweets,” he said. “I’m sorry it took me so long to be able to call. Are you feeling okay?”

  “Oh yeah, my ribs are bruised, but not broken. And my arm has been stitched up and I’ll just need some physical therapy on it to make sure nothing goes wonky.”

  “Good.”

  “How about you?”

  “I’m fine. The nest is still recovering. I’ve had Len keeping an eye on you so I knew you were okay, but I didn’t have time to call and chat. Everyone’s pretty shaken.”

  “Like stalking me?”

  “No, just calling and giving me updates.”

  “Ohhhhh.”

  Len had called a few times, said it was for Quil, but I didn’t quite get why Quil couldn’t do it himself.

  But I kinda had a guess.

  “And Jade?” I asked.

  “Acting like everyone else, like she’s upset by all this and glad it wasn’t worse. She’s talking about putting one of her people on Marie’s throne.”

  “Has she kept you from calling?”

  “Let’s just say, she was watching me very carefully the past two days. She’s let up now. I think she thinks I don’t know anything. I’m still making sure no one is listening or tapping my lines. I am calling for a formal reason as well though. It’s about our treaty.”

  “Yeah?”

  “We were thinking an official meeting to discuss specifics. I will call your director and I’m assuming she will have Grant head it. We will work out something more formal, and I will see if I can get the queen to sign it.”

  “Will she?”

  “Depends how far she’s willing to carry this charade to convince everyone of her innocence.”

  “If she doesn’t suspect anyone knows though…”

  “But she was allowing us to work with the FBI. Pulling back now would look strange. We’ll see.”

  “I guess. I don’t think she’s done tryin’ to take us out though.”

  “Me neither.”

  “Sooooo, will I get to see you soon?”

  He chuckled. “I was thinking tonight, but if you meant professionally, I think next week would be a good time for some of us to come down to the office. We’ll have to work it out with your bosses, but once we do, we’d love to learn more about how you work.”

  “We being?”

  “Carla, me, even Stephanie seems to like you, and she doesn’t like anybody.”

  Stephanie? Really? Hey, who was I to turn my nose up at new friends?

  “Run it by Grant.”

  “Next week or what I want to do to you tonight? Because I’m understanding, but that’s just weird.”

  I laughed.

  “No, you can run… that by me.”

  “Nine work?”

  “Sounds great.”

  We said our goodbyes and when I flipped my chair around, Grant was gone.

  Geez, he’s pretty sneaky for someone so large.

  I finished up the report and filed it, hittin’ the bathroom before looking for Grant to see if I could go.

  When I got back, there was a large box in shiny green wrapping paper in the middle of the perpetual chaos that is my desk.

  I picked up the card on the top and it said. “Special Agent Ariana Kay Ryder,” in Grant’s handwriting.

  I tore it open, not sparing the paper, no matter how pretty it was.

  I had to slice open the tightly taped box with a knife, and then dig through a pile of multicolored tissue paper before I got to the prize.

  A bright red cowgirl hat.

  The note pinned to the top said, “Congratulations on one year, Ariana.”

  I picked it up and my badge was sitting right under it.

  I put the hat on and covered my nose with my hands as a tear leaked out.

  With all the chaos and clean up the past few days, I hadn’t even remembered this was my anniversary.

  Not only did I make one year, while I’d thought I wouldn’t make it one week when I first started, but Grant remembered the anniversary, and my joke about the hat, and got me one.

  I let my mind run over the last few nights, tryin’ to make sense of the chaos.

  And I pulled out my phone to call my mama.

  “Hey, sweetie,” she said.

  “Hey, Mama, it’s my one year anniversary!”

  “Congratulations.”

  “Mama, you don’t sound like you really mean it.”

  “Of course I do.”

  “I know you think I’m just a low paid public servant, but I’m doin’ good here, Mama.”

  “You could do more.”

  No, I couldn’t.

  “Mama,” I said, “do you remember what you said when I asked you why you started writin’
romance.”

  “I said it was the seventies.”

  “And times were hard. The economy was trashed, inflation and unemployment ran rampant, and people waited in lines for hours for gas. You said you started writin’ because the world was dark and you wanted to brighten it up with stories of good versus evil, honor and love conquering all. You were hoping your messages of hope and decency buried in all that fluff would reach people. Change them.”

  “I passed on my penchant for the dramatic to you, didn’t I?”

  “Mama, come on. You said all that, and you meant it.”

  “Yes, yes, I did.”

  “Well, times are dark again. And I can do something about it as an agent. I can save lives, protect people. But I can also work my way up, and maybe change the country for the better when the time comes for it. And you know where I get that from?”

  “Me ‘n your daddy.”

  “Yeah. I’m gonna make a difference, Mama. I’m gonna make you proud.”

  “Sweetie, I have never not been proud of you. I’m a little bit more now that you finally figured out that’s why you became an agent.”

  “You knew! How did you know when I barely put it together?”

  Mama chuckled. “You got a lot of livin’ to do, baby girl. A mother knows her children. You have always wanted to help people and make a difference. I just wanted you to realize you do this because you know you can get up to where you can do more good than even now.”

  I put my hand to my forehead.

  Never underestimate Mama.

  I told her what I could about the case, which wasn’t much, and planned a trip down home soon as I could make sure I’d have a weekend off.

  I still had a lot of work to do.

  I had to learn about my powers. Had to get them down to make sure no one ever died on my watch again.

  And what about Carvi?

  From the visions I got they were pretty close, and Milo’s literal dying wish was for us to look after his brother.

  I wonder if anyone’s told him about Milo yet. Someone had to have called him, right?

  And what if he decided to do something to Quil or me for his brother dying?

  He didn’t strike me as the forgiving type.

  I shook it off.

  Couldn’t worry about that now.

  I had a guy to meet and we had an alliance to plan and a queen to take down.