by Lynn Lorenz
Thatcher's voice softened. "To lose you, son, would be a hard blow."
"The station would find another inspector in time." Stefan shrugged.
"But I couldn't find another..." Damn, the man could be so dense. He leaned back and became the chief inspector. "We have already lost one inspector; I would not like to lose a second. One week then. It's fair." Thatcher snapped his fingers and a parchment appeared. He wrote the order and signed it. Folding the letter, he held wax to a candle's flame, sealed the letter, and pressed his signet ring into the cooling red puddle.
Stefan stood, took the parchment from him and left.
Thatcher wondered what he would have done had Stefan been killed. It was a possibility each one of them faced, but a fear none of them could give in to.
He felt a flash of cold down his spine. The pressure in the room changed. A beautiful older woman appeared in front of his desk. On the collar of her black jacket were pinned silver crossed wands.
"Trouble?" She turned the chair around and slipped onto it. Crossing her legs under her long black skirt, she leaned forward, her gray eyes intent.
"The usual." Thatcher eyed Inspector Mercy Loch. Even at fifty-five, she always managed to astound him with her beauty. As their station's mentalist, her abilities to delve into the mind of a criminal, extract the needed information, and leave that mind untouched, were legendary. As his lover for the last five years, she was life to him.
"Oh." Mercy nodded. "Your boys again." She didn't bother to hide her smirk.
"If you mean Stefan and Rolf, aye."
"I heard all about the mission from several addlers. Stefan's courage grows with each telling. Rolf's failure grows, too."
Thatcher winced. "I was afraid of that. Perhaps it won't get back to him."
"Not likely. It's making the rounds amongst the addlers, so I'm sure his addler Moss will hear about it soon enough."
"At least Stefan made something of this disaster." Thatcher shrugged.
"So like Stefan to turn a failure into a triumph. I've been questioning that man he captured. Being inside his mind was unsettling to say the least. He'll stand trial for numerous petty crimes, of course, but he was no more than a paid bravo, no one close to Blackmoor." She shook her head. "But I have learned something from him. Stefan was right--they knew about the trap. There's a traitor in the castle. But who?" She shrugged. "The bastard didn't hold the name in his memory."
"Damnation." Damon slammed his fist on the desk. "I feared that."
"I'm just glad Stefan used some fairness in his decision about Rolf." She sank back in her seat.
"He docked him a week's pay."
"That was fair."
"I just wish they could get beyond this damned rivalry and find some common ground. Something to build a friendship on."
"It doesn't work that way, my love." She leaned back and looked at him with a crooked smile.
"What do you mean?"
"With my two boys, they fought constantly. At times, I thought they'd kill each other. But, threaten one of them, and the other was ready to fight to the death for him."
"Well, they have the bickering part down."
"Damon, they bicker like brothers, but they'd die for each other. Can't you see it?" She sighed. "They don't see it either."
A slow smile of realization crept across Damon's face. With a laugh, he said, "Brothers, despite themselves."
* * * *
Rolf stood in the foyer, watching as Stefan approached him. He couldn't tell by Stefan's face if he had Thatcher's decision, or what that might be. There were times when he could see Stefan's mind at work and others when he could read nothing. Stefan was a hard man to know, and Rolf had given up trying for friendship. He'd settle for the man's respect, but that, too, seemed always out of reach.
"Well?" Rolf searched Stefan's closed face.
Stefan reached into his jacket and pulled out the parchment. After a moment's hesitation, Rolf took it, broke the seal, and bent his head over the letter.
"One weeks pay, eh?" Rolf folded it and looked at Stefan. "Must've really pissed you off for Thatcher to be so lenient. I expected you'd push for the maximum." Instead of making him feel better, the leniency only added to Rolf's feelings of guilt.
Stefan's eyebrows shot up. "Did you?"
"My negligence almost got you killed." Rolf stuffed the paper in his jacket.
"Aye, it did," Stefan said.
Damn the man. For as long as he'd known Stefan, Rolf had felt lesser in comparison. He didn't know what he expected from Stefan, but anything would have been better than this clipped speech. He would rather have come to blows than suffer Stefan's silence.
"I'm sure the next time I fail you'll have my inspector's pins, Stefan, so cheer up," Rolf said between gritted teeth. His hand moved to the butt of his wand as his anger and his power surged. "You'll be rid of me yet."
Stefan glanced at the movement, but merely lifted an eyebrow as he pulled on his power in response.
* * * *
Sarah stood at the top of the stairs and looked down on the two men deep in conversation. Dressed in black inspector uniforms and black riding boots, silver crossed wands denoting their rank pinned to their high jacket collars, they were a sight to set any maiden's heart fluttering. At a distance, she could feel the power of the inspector level wands they carried in black leather holsters strapped to their thighs. Too much power, she realized.
The smaller, stockier man's fists were clenched, his muscled body rigid. The other man, arms crossed over his chest, was at least a head taller. There was something familiar about those broad shoulders, narrow waist, and hips. With the next heartbeat, she recognized him as the rumpled man in the hallway--Inspector Stefan Bane, First Class. Only now, he was clean-shaven, his hair, blue-black in the lantern light, fell loose to below his shoulders.
Damn, why did he have to look so incredibly handsome? She willed her heart to steady its beat.
Tension arced between them, as both men, filled with power, tested each other. She didn't want to know what would happen if one of them flinched, but regardless of what was going on, they needed a diversion before it went too far. It wouldn't be the first time she'd waded into a charged situation and it probably wouldn't be the last.
Sarah cleared her throat so they would know of her presence. Their heads turned upward toward the sound. A flash of recognition lit Bane's face. Avoiding him, Sarah smiled at the other man.
"Good evening, sir. Could you tell me where I can find Chief Inspector Thatcher?" Descending the stairs, she tried not to trip on the hem of her unfamiliar uniform skirt. It wouldn't do to tumble down the stairs and land sprawled at their feet, although, if she'd wanted a diversion, that would be a spectacular one.
"Of course, Patroller..." He dropped his hand from his wand and his power dispersed. His unruly blond hair surrounded his head like a mane and long bangs fell across his brow as he gave her a look of male interest.
"Patroller Sarah Tallow, sir." As she reached the bottom, she gave him a formal bow, her right hand over her heart, left arm back, as she leaned forward from the waist. He was not as short as she had first thought now she was on level ground. He must be at least six feet tall. Next to Bane's height, however, he appeared shorter.
"Inspector Rolf Creel." He bowed back. "The new recruit, right?" He smiled at her and the edges of his blue eyes crinkled. Only a faint white scar running from his cheek to his throat marred his tanned, rugged good looks.
"Aye." She stared at his face. It was an easy, open face, and she could tell when he smiled the creases in his face were from good humor, not age or pain. She placed him around forty years old.
"This is Inspector Stefan Bane." Rolf made the introduction, waving his open hand toward Stefan.
Sarah turned to Bane and her heart leaped in her chest. It had been no coincidence, no one-time event. The sensation she felt in the hall returned as her entire body tightened. She'd been foolish to think she could control her reaction to the
man.
"We've met. Glad to see you've recovered from your injury."
"With your kind assistance." Stefan gave her a tilt of his head.
She found herself entangled with him in some web of illusion as his eyes held her captive, unable to move, much less think. Her breath deepened. She stood there, lips parted, looking up into his eyes. Through a fog, she was aware someone was speaking.
Bane cleared his throat and looked away, leaving Sarah staring at him, wide-eyed, like a schoolgirl with a crush. She felt the heat of her blush and looked down at her boots. Damn. Did she have to do that every time she saw the man?
"Right down this hall." Rolf motioned for Sarah to follow him. "Patroller Tallow? Did you hear me?"
"Oh, aye, of course." She recovered and turned to follow Creel, hoping he hadn't noticed her blush, but the look on his face told her he had.
Stefan trailed them at a distance. It was obvious to her he'd been uncomfortable and embarrassed with her stare and she felt a pang of disappointment. Stop it, she told herself. This foolish behavior was so unlike her. Perhaps Tandy had placed a spell on her. She wouldn't put it past the little addler.
The door to the chief's office was open. With Rolf's quick rap on the frame, there was a familiar, rumbling voice. "Come in."
Rolf entered and she followed.
"Oh, I see you've met Sarah. Have a seat." Chief Inspector Damon Thatcher stood and pointed to one of two chairs before his large stone desk.
* * * *
Rolf moved to the far wall and leaned against it, anxious to watch the coming fireworks. Even though Stefan was doing an excellent job of looking disinterested, Rolf had felt something basic and powerful pass between Stefan and the beautiful patroller.
"Thank you, sir. Gustav said you wanted to see me before dinner?" She sat and arranged the folds of her uniform skirt.
"Aye, I did. Stefan? Is that you lurking in the doorway?" Looking over the tops of his half-glasses at Stefan, Thatcher grinned.
"I'm not lurking. Rolf and I were speaking when Patroller Tallow asked where she could find you." He stepped into the office. Leaning against the frame of the door, he crossed his arms over his broad chest.
Rolf was grateful Stefan didn't go into any explanations of what their conversation had been about in front of the new patroller. No sense to start with bad impressions; those would come soon enough.
Thatcher nodded. "Inspectors, Sarah Tallow will be our new trainer."
Stefan pushed himself off the frame of the door, arms rigid at his side. "You're not serious, Damon?"
Rolf swiveled his head to look at Stefan.
"What is that supposed to mean, sir?" Sarah's brows furrowed.
Rolf looked back at her. Her body tensed as if slapped and then her eyes narrowed.
This will be interesting. Rolf settled himself against the wall and watched Stefan's next move.
Stefan held up his hand and checked off a finger. "First, you are too old to have just graduated the academy."
Rolf groaned inwardly. Mistake, Stefan. Never comment about a woman's age.
"Well, if you mean I never attended the academy, then you're right," she answered in defense of herself. "However, my age has little to do with my level of experience."
Adding another finger, Stefan said, "And if the addler gossip is correct, and it usually is, you're barely trained in majik."
Or point out her shortcomings. Rolf bit his lip to keep silent.
"It's true my majik may not be up to your level, Inspector, however, my training in off-world fighting tactics is second to none and that's what I'm here to teach." She returned Stefan's glare with one of equal measure.
"Sarah," Thatcher said, "Inspector Bane was our last trainer, when he could find the time."
"Oh, I see." She nodded knowingly. "That explains it."
Rolf resisted the temptation to grin and continued watching straight-faced. He wouldn't have missed this for the world. Stefan had dealt with clever criminals, but how would he handle a clever woman?
"What is that supposed to mean, Patroller?" Stefan's chin lowered.
Rolf thought he looked quite mulish. Humble, Stefan, go for humble.
"Just that you feel threatened, Inspector. It's a perfectly normal reaction for a man." She folded her arms as she sat back in the chair.
"Threatened? Me? By a woman?" He sputtered as his eyebrows shot up.
Rolf threw a sharp look at Thatcher, who signaled him to keep quiet by rubbing the side of his nose with his finger. Rolf watched what he hoped would be Stefan's self-destruction before this beautiful, spirited woman and he wouldn't have to lift a finger. At the rate Stefan was going, he'd annihilate himself.
"Of course, you're threatened. I'm sure you haven't encountered too many women who challenge you. All I ask is your respect for what I have to offer. I'm bringing a new style of fighting to this station and will be working closely with the patrollers. Something, I understand, you weren't very fond of doing." She leveled her gaze at him.
"She's got you there, Stefan." Rolf couldn't resist the comment, impressed with how she wouldn't back down from or defer to Stefan. He only wished he'd laid a wager on how this would turn out.
Throwing a quick glare to Rolf meant to silence him, Stefan turned to face the chief. "Damon, you're taking quite a chance with her, you realize."
"Am I? Seems I remember taking a chance on a couple of other young officers, too, and they didn't turn out half bad." Thatcher looked pointedly at Stefan and then shifted his gaze to Rolf.
"Well said, Chief!" Rolf barked a laugh.
"Fair enough, Damon." Stefan held up his hands in surrender of the point. "And I suppose you also expect her to patrol?"
"Indeed, I do. You'll have to get her into shape and fast. We need every man and woman we have with this new outbreak of dark majik." Thatcher leaned forward.
"Me? I have more important duties than babysitting a wet-behind-the-ears patroller." Stefan's eyes flicked to Sarah.
She opened her mouth to begin what Rolf was sure to be a scathing reply, but Thatcher interrupted.
For a second, Rolf hoped Thatcher would assign him the woman, but that would lead only to pain and misery. His heart was too vulnerable, and Sarah too beautiful to resist. No, let Stefan fall into that sweet trap.
"Until she's past her initial training period, Rolf will take over assigning the patrol shifts and handling the shift musters. Both of you will stay on your cases, but I expect you, Stefan, to work with Sarah daily on her patroller training. Take her on patrol, but work around her classes. Training our men and women in the new tactics is imperative." He stood to emphasis his words.
"I have cases that are very delicate in nature, Damon, and I can't have her following on my heels like some puppy." Stefan waved his arm toward Sarah.
"I assure you, I am a fast learner and no puppy." Sarah's mouth formed a thin line.
"It's impossible, Damon. This isn't a good idea or the right time." He shook his head.
Rolf wondered if Stefan was feeling more than threatened by her. Why was time alone with the beautiful Sarah worrying him? Stefan had certainly been alone too long not to jump at such a chance with a beautiful young woman, and no reason not to.
"You will, Inspector Bane, do what you are told to do." Thatcher leaned on his desk and his power surged. His voice hardened like cold steel. The matching flint of his eyes warned Stefan not to argue.
Rolf had seen that look, heard that voice, and felt that power only a few times in his career. How often had Stefan been on the receiving end of Thatcher's power?
"Aye, Chief Inspector, I understand." Stefan's brow furrowed and his lips thinned.
Thatcher's power was not lost on Stefan. Rolf had to suppress a laugh at the look of defeat on his fellow inspector's face.
Sarah stood and faced Stefan. "I'm so glad that's all cleared up and you're going to allow me to do my job." She gave him a look Rolf couldn't decipher. "Chief Inspector, thank you for your confidence
in me. Inspector Creel, I hope to see you in my class."
"You can count on it." Rolf gave her his best smile and a quick glance to Stefan caught his glower. He grinned back.
She bowed, spun on her heel, and left.
Thatcher waved his hand in dismissal. Stefan, his hands in fists, body tense, looked as if he wanted to pummel someone. Without another word, he 'ported from the room.
Rolf pushed himself off the wall, gave Thatcher a bow, and strolled down the hall with his hands in his pockets. It had been a very interesting meeting and he wouldn't have missed it for the world.
The great stone wall that was Inspector First Class Stefan Bane had met his match in this woman. As far as Rolf knew, Stefan had never looked for love, but had thrown himself into his work with an unrivaled passion. Now, it seemed, if Stefan wasn't careful, he might stumble upon love for the first time in his solitary life.
Lucky bastard.
As Rolf headed down the stairs to his office, he thought about his own curse. It had forced him to spend most of his adult life alone and unloved. Even now, after all these years, he'd lost many things, including his faith, but Rolf still held on to the fragile hope that somehow he'd find love. Now, to his chagrin, love stood knocking at Stefan's door.
Once again, Stefan, the better man, the favored son, would surpass him.
Chapter 4
Sarah slammed the door to her room and leaned against it. "That man! Of all the pompous, self-important, arrogant..." she sputtered out, the rest of the words left to her mind to say.
Wet behind the ears! She'd wanted to toss him across the room she'd been so insulted. Why did he think he could say those things and with her sitting right there, as if she didn't exist?
"Men!" she said, her voice a growl as she marched to the chair, and threw herself into it. "I'll show him who's a puppy."
That would teach her to moon over some man. No matter whether on-world or off-world, men were the same, thinking they were always right and that women didn't know what they were doing. She may not know much about majik, but she was no weakling, no puppy, and certainly not wet behind the ears.
