The Bringer of War (The Sheynan Trilogy Book 2)

by Dylan Birtolo

  “Do you not? I have a few theories. The possibilities are neither pleasing nor welcoming.”

  “I don’t think he has any information she truly wants; only hints. I doubt the traitor has the ability to break into our vault.”

  “One of our manuals of rituals is missing. He is the most probable suspect. Even if the traitor doesn’t have it, he must rejoin the darkness or be eliminated. Membership in our organization is not a voluntary decision. Since the first option is no longer viable…”

  “I will pursue him personally and recover the manual if he has it.”

  “Finally, there is the matter of your agent’s failure, the one sent to watch over Darien.”

  Gregory reached out and patted the stack of papers on his right. The top piece of paper was a copy of the report that Cameron submitted earlier. He picked it up and held it at an angle so he could read it. He had skimmed it once already, but wanted to refresh the details in his mind. Cameron sat silent as his superior looked over the document. When Gregory finished, he placed the paper in the center of the desk and put both hands on it, folded together.

  “Are you prepared to deal with his failure now?”

  As a response, Cameron stood up and walked to the door. He swung it open and whistled down the hall. Three people sitting in the hallway responded to his summons. Two in the back prodded their prisoner forward, giving him a nudge when his step slowed. They were male, but their bodies were cloaked in shadow armor and they looked like beings of darkness, indistinct and hazy around the edges. Jason shuffled in front of them, still dressed in the outfit he wore when he spied on Darien in the truck. He looked at the ground while he walked and his feet scuffed the floor with every step.

  When he entered the room, Cameron led him to the chair and pushed down on his shoulder until he sat down. The two guards remained by the door, one on either side. The young man looked up and trembled as he stared into the blackness where Gregory sat.

  Cameron gave a gentle squeeze when he spoke. Not enough to inflict any pain, but to remind the young man of his presence. “Jason, do you know why you’ve been brought here?”

  Jason had to clear his throat twice before he was able to get any words out. His voice shook, but to his credit, he did not mumble. “Yes. I failed the Dark. I didn’t serve him well enough, and because of that, Sam’s dead.”

  “What happened?” Cameron continued his questioning while Gregory sat in silence with his hands unmoving from the center of the desk.

  “We were in the alley watching Darien from a distance when Sam told me to get him something to eat. When I got outta the store, the truck was gone. At first I thought Sam followed him without me, but when I called his phone, I heard it ringing in the alley. That’s when I went to see if he was there and found the body under a dumpster.”

  “Do you know how he died?”

  Even though Cameron was asking the questions, Jason continued to stare ahead at his silent leader. He only blinked when it was necessary, trying to keep an eye on the darkness as long as possible.

  “No, sir. I couldn’t tell, and I haven’t heard anything about it since I got back. I’ve been under watch since I got back.”

  Cameron let go, his questioning finished. He waited to see what Gregory would pronounce as judgment. Before he got the chance, Jason leaned forward, his eyes wide and his voice urgent. Cameron’s hand shot out, grabbing Jason by the shoulder and slamming him back into the chair hard enough to make it rattle. Jason didn’t struggle, but still pleaded his case.

  “You must believe me! I know I messed up, but I’m loyal to the Dark and I won’t fail you again. Give me another chance to prove myself! I’ll do whatever you ask!”

  The hands on the desk reached forward and picked up the piece of paper. They placed it on the opposite pile and then settled back on the desk, palms down. When Gregory spoke, his voice was hushed but filled the entire room.

  “You are well aware that our numbers are thinning. Despite what you may have heard from the other side, we do not abandon our own or destroy them. You will not be executed or forced into exile. Such concepts are fabrications designed by the Arm to pollute others’ minds against us. We will give you another chance.

  “However, we cannot tolerate failure from any of our members. This is especially true when so many different items of critical importance are approaching a potential climax. Any failure, no matter how minor, could be the pebble that begins the landslide of our communal catastrophe.

  “You will be branded and marked, to serve as a lesson for yourself and a warning to others about the price of failure. I may have been inclined to be more lenient in the past, but the situation now does not permit such benevolence. Report to the ritual chamber.”

  Jason closed his eyes and bowed his head. The relief flooding through his body was visible as his tension dropped into the floor.

  “Thank you for your mercy, sir. I serve the Dark with my life and place myself in his service.”

  A hand waved him away, and Cameron lifted him out of the chair. The Shadows by the door escorted Jason out of the room. As he walked away, he held his head up and strode forward. Cameron eased the door shut behind them as they left.

  “Where would you like him to be marked, sir?”

  “Place it on the back of his right hand. I want to make sure that everyone he meets who recognizes the symbol will identify his failure. We cannot allow our agents to become lackadaisical in their efforts. Every piece is critical. You know some of what is happening, although I doubt even you are able to grasp the complete depth of it.”

  “I don’t need to; I know enough to do my job.”

  “And that is all you need to know.”

  “What about Darien?”

  “His strength is an asset that could tip the scales of balance in our war. He has not yet even begun to appreciate the full depths of his abilities. For now, the value he represents outweighs the risk he poses. Until that changes, no one is to make an attempt to engage him. I have plans of my own in motion.”

  “I understand. If I may be so bold, sir, what do you have in mind?”

  “He will come to us of his own free will and join the Shadows. He is young and impressionable, and I will earn his trust. He has already taken the first tentative steps.”

  Gregory picked up the next piece of paper in the pile and held it up as if to read it, dismissing Cameron without a word. His subordinate bowed before leaving, his steps unhurried. Gregory watched him walk out and wondered how much he could trust the man. Cameron hadn’t shown any ambition to take his place and was ruthless in his efficiency with any task assigned to him. Gregory had chosen well. But there were others who would rather see Cameron sitting behind this desk. Lisa was one of those.

  There was no doubt that Lisa’s room was where Cameron was headed. She was to Cameron what he was to Gregory: an effective and dependable lieutenant to be trusted with only the most important tasks. Gregory knew that she was a much greater threat to his safety than Cameron ever was. Her fanaticism and loyalty was to him, not the Shadows as a whole. But she was far too effective an assassin to dispose of. She would need special handling. Gregory wondered what task Cameron was giving her right now.

  Gregory Marks has not informed us about his plan with respect to Darien Yost and we have seen insufficient traction gained along those lines. We need to know what actions he has planned. We considered intervening directly, but decided against it at this time. We will be reaching out to Cameron Walker and encouraging him to discover what Mr. Marks is attempting to achieve. If necessary, Mr. Walker has shown a remarkable capacity for loyalty to the organization and could prove to be a more pliant commander.

  Mr. Yost maintains his connection with the Arm. We have instructed the local cell to continue to apply pressure for his recruitment. If Mr. Yost decides to flee to the safety of the Arm cell, he will be transferred to our central office immediately.

  Chapter 8

  Darien tossed and turned in the bed, rollin
g from one side to the other. His feet kicked at the sheets and became tangled in the thin cloth. Streams of sweat ran down his face and he gripped the mattress cover in a white-knuckled grasp. The bed creaked as he arched his back and he collapsed back down in a sudden motion. The nightmare held him tightly in its clutches as he muttered unintelligible sounds.

  The bathroom door opened, and Richard stepped out with his hair slicked back. He held a towel in his right hand and used it to finish drying off. When he saw Darien, he dropped the towel and crossed the ground to the bed in two strides. He grabbed Darien’s shoulders and shook him.

  “Wake up, kid.”

  After a couple more twitches, Darien’s eyes flew open and he stared at the ceiling. He looked around, trying to turn and see in every direction. His gaze fell upon Richard, and his pupils tightened. His body relaxed in Richard’s grasp, and he eased his eyes shut. He let out a groan.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. It was just a nightmare.”

  Richard stood and stared at his companion. Darien freed his legs and rolled over to touch his feet on the floor. He took a deep breath when he stood up. His hands ran up to his head and combed through his tangled hair. Richard finished getting dressed, keeping an eye on Darien the entire time.

  “Richard, do you ever dream about things that happened a long time ago? Dreams where you feel like you can’t alter what’s going on like they’re memories or something?”

  Richard shook his head and said nothing, waiting for Darien to continue.

  “This is the second time that I’ve had a dream about something that has happened in the past. It feels like it was a long time ago and is kind of like our history—like it’s a movie of our ancestors. I met a shifter there, he said his name was Gregory Marks. He said he hunts down these memories and thought I might have strong ones because I’m a Sheynan.”

  “How do you know he didn’t just pull you into one of his dreams and feed you a line?”

  “It didn’t feel like a normal dream. And besides, I’ve gotten pretty good at controlling dreams. Hell, three months ago two Shadows couldn’t beat me in dreams, and I’ve only gotten better. I’m pretty sure I have a good idea what I’m talking about. Besides, why would he make up a huge lie like that?”

  “I can think of plenty of reasons.”

  Darien acquiesced the point with a nod of his head and walked over to the dresser, fishing for some of his clean clothes. He went to the bathroom to take care of his morning routine. Richard walked to the window and stared down at the street below, watching the morning traffic as people rushed to work. He debated about telling Darien about Susan’s mood last night, but decided against it. He didn’t want to be put in the middle by choice or by proxy. Besides, it wasn’t his business as long as the three of them stayed focused on the mission.

  There was a slight scuff from the doorway, and Richard snapped his head around. Someone slid an envelope into their room. Richard bolted to the door and jerked it open, looking down the hallway in both directions, but it was empty. Whoever dropped the letter off was fast, or more likely a shifter.

  He picked up the envelope and turned it over in his hands. The paper was damp and off color, and there was a faint odor that itched at Richard’s memory. He leaned forward to get a better scent and took a sniff. He jerked his head back and wrinkled his nose. This letter had been written near human waste.

  Darien poked his head out from the bathroom and raised a single eyebrow. In response, Richard walked over and handed him the envelope.

  “We need to move, as soon as Susan gets back from getting breakfast. That could have been dropped off by a shifter, so watch what you say.”

  Richard turned back to the door and checked over the room. It didn’t look like anything was out of place. While he was on guard, Darien read out loud.

  “‘I saw you go looking for me. Did you think I wouldn’t? Did you think I’d think you’d let me slip away? I knew you’d follow. You’d follow and want to find me, but you didn’t. That’s because I knew. I know many things, and now it’s time for me to share. Mother said it was important to share. If you want to listen, I will tell you, but you need to listen, if you want to hear.

  “‘I will wait for you in the dark. Wait for you in the dark to talk about darkness and dark people. Waiting where it’s dark and wet, somewhere close. We will stand in the dark and talk of dark things. And I will tell you about HER. She knows about you, but you need to know about her. You must come.’”

  Richard glanced over his shoulder and Darien could only offer a shrug.

  “I think it’s from the same person who gave the letter to that guy yesterday. The handwriting looks the same—it’s all shaky and looks like it was written by a five year-old. I think Suz might be right, he’s got a few screws loose.”

  “Sounds like it, but that doesn’t mean we should discount him. He knows where we’re staying. He could be dangerous.”

  “I’m more wondering if he knows anything useful. We’ve been coming up dry for a while now, it could be worth seeing what he has to say.”

  Richard couldn’t argue that line of logic, they hadn’t gotten any closer and the frustration was palatable. On the other hand…

  “He’s trying to lure you somewhere so that he can choose the battleground.”

  “You think everything’s a trap, don’t you?”

  “And you think everyone deserves to be given a chance. That’s going to get you killed someday.”

  “I think we should go after him now, while the trail’s still warm. Let’s leave a note for Susan and find this guy.” Darien grabbed his jacket and pulled it on. He crumpled the letter into his pocket and turned to the door. He backed up a couple of steps as the door latch open and swung inward. Susan walked through carrying a large brown bag in one hand and a cardboard tray laden with three coffee cups in the other. She kicked the door shut behind her and placed the bag on the corner of the bed near Richard.

  “Good morning. Fresh bagels hot out of the oven. According to the guy behind the counter, they’re the best in Austin, but I think he might be just a bit biased.”

  She handed the tray to Richard and took one of the cups before brushing past Darien to sit down on the other bed. Richard took a coffee and then leaned forward to give the tray to Darien.

  “Thanks. These smell great.” Darien picked up the bag and gave an exaggerated sniff.

  “No problem. I was up early feeling antsy and figured I might as well be useful.” She took a sip of her coffee and then reached up to pinch Darien’s jacket, giving it a light tug. “Where you off to?”

  The question made Darien squirm. He conveniently took a sip of coffee and looked at Richard. The older man made a point of looking away. He knew better than to get involved. He heard Darien sigh.

  “We were going to head out. We got another note.”

  “I see.”

  “Susan, I think you should stay here—it’s probably a trap. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “So, where are we going?”

  “But…”

  “Really? You want to have this conversation again? Let’s just skip to the part where you realize I’m going with you.”

  Richard growled from deep in his gut. He didn’t need to hear the same arguments again. Besides, they were wasting time.

  “We need to move, now. Whoever dropped off that note was a shifter, and if they know where we are, the Shadows might not be far behind. Grab your gear.”

  To accentuate his point, Richard grabbed his pack, always ready for a quick exit, and turned to leave without waiting for a response. He stood in the hallway, looking down both directions while he waited for his companions to gather their things. It didn’t take too long. They had learned to always be ready to move.

  They walked in silence to the rear stairwell, avoiding the elevators. The stairs were empty, and the only sounds they could hear were their own feet on the cement as they descended to the ground floor. Darien and Susan we
nt outside and loaded the bags into the truck while Richard went through the lobby to pay the bill. Once he was done, the three of them climbed into the cab with Richard behind the wheel.

  The black pickup truck rumbled through the streets while Darien and Susan spread a map across their laps and poured over it. Richard drove in large circles, making sure to obey all the traffic laws. It was likely that the Shadows had connections with the local police force, and he didn’t want to do anything to bring attention to themselves. He waited as his companions alternated between looking at the letter and the map. He did make a mental note of some hotels they passed, that way they would have a new place to stay.

  “Guys, there’s something odd about this letter, besides the obvious. Our secret stalker told me where to meet him, but he never said when. I’m guessing that means it’s somewhere he always has an eye on. So either a place under surveillance, or his home.”

  Susan pointed at a phrase on the note. “And based on what it says here, we’re looking for somewhere that it’s always dark. So that would either be in a building or underground. Considering he said dark and wet, I’d guess underground.”

  “That would make sense. But the city is huge. Where would we even begin looking?”

  Chapter 9

  Every time she came down into the sewers, Bridget felt the need to remind herself how useful Twitch was. If he truly could give her access to the manual of rituals like he claimed, then any price she paid would be worth it. Even if she continued to suffer by being down here where the air was heavy and oppressive with the pungent odor of rotting food and bodily waste. At set intervals in the tunnels, ladders led up to the surface world. Sunlight flickered down through the small openings in the manhole covers, but it was beaten back by the relentless darkness.

  She had been down here far longer than she would have liked, finding Twitch’s last refuge empty and now heading to another one of his makeshift homes. She walked on the narrow ledge at the edge of a filthy stream. The water was never less than knee deep and littered with small boats of food containers discarded from the street. The murky fluid concealed other waste hiding beneath the surface. She made sure to stay clear from the edge as she wandered through the underground maze.