I thought that we might have had the wrong house, but decided that it was better to take the chance and go for it anyway. I rang the doorbell, and waited. After a few seconds, I saw a light flick on inside the house, and, suddenly afraid, I grasped Rick’s hand. He squeezed it, reassuring me. Soon, the door opened, revealing Jason in a bathrobe.
He was actually holding a candle. I realized the deadly use to which he could put even a tiny flame like that, but the sight of him was so absurd that I almost burst into laughter. All he needed with a long nightcap with a tassel at the end to complete the getup.
“Ms. Tress,” he said. There wasn’t a trace of sleepiness in his tone. He appeared completely awake and alert. “What are you doing here?”
“Mr. Butler, sir. We need to speak to you. It’s important, or we wouldn’t be here this late.”
His penetrating gaze shifted to Rick. He stared at him silently for a few moments. “Who is the skinchanger?”
How the hell did he know what Rick was? That doesn’t make any sense.
“How did—“ Rick began.
“Son, I have been doing this a long time. Your name.”
“Rick Torin, sir.” He looked shaken. I would bet anything that nobody had identified him as a skinchanger on sight before.
“How do you know Nora, Mr. Torin?”
“We—“
“We’re friends, sir,” I cut in. “Please, if you’ll let us in, we can explain.”
“This cannot wait until tomorrow? I don’t usually entertain guests after ten o’clock.”
“Mr. Butler—“ Rick began.
“Overwatch,” I cut in.
Immediately, Jason’s entire demeanor changed. Gone was the quiet man in a bathrobe; here was a warrior, ready to defend his home turf from a usurper. This was the man who had confronted me earlier in the Focus headquarters building. I felt him begin to draw in power, and shrank backwards when I saw the candle in his hand suddenly flare.
“How do you know about Overwatch?”
“Sir, we are not here to threaten you. We’re here because we’re on the same side. Please, give us the chance to explain. If you don’t like what we have to say… well, it’s not like you couldn’t handle a skinchanger and a wizard who hasn’t even completed her Bonding yet.”
Jason turned to look at me closely. I had the distinct impression that he was reading my intent. It was a few moments before he spoke. The candle returned to its normal, flickering light, though half of its wax had burned away in the sudden heat. “All right. Into the living room, if you please.” He stepped aside, and we followed him into the house. “If either one of you try anything, I will kill you. Without hesitation.”
I gulped. For a potential ally, Jason was terrifying.
His living room was decorated with family photos nearly everywhere. Pictures of a young man, grinning like a child, with his arms around a woman about his age. Others depicted children at varying stages of development, from infant to school graduation. Each had the same man in them, who aged with his children. The oldest, current version—Jason—directed me to an overstuffed couch against the wall.
“Explain, please,” he said once we were seated.
I told him everything that had occurred over the past two days. Rick and I had decided that full disclosure was the best policy. We needed Jason to trust us, and if he sensed that we held anything back, he wouldn’t. When I finished, Jason quietly regarded us for a few minutes. Finally, he spoke.
“It appears as though we have both stumbled upon the same investigation, Ms. Tress.”
I sighed in relief. “Yes, sir, it appears so.”
Jason turned to Rick. “Who were the two men who approached you when you broke into my office?”
Rick hesitated for a moment. “I don’t know who they were, but…” His skin undulated once again, rippling, changing until a different man sat beside me. This one was a redhead, heavily freckled, with a decidedly weak chin. I didn’t recognize him.
“Sean Duff,” Jason said. “And the other?”
Rick shifted once more. This man was a brunette, with gentle hazel eyes and a rather beaky nose.
“Max Dugan.” Jason rose from his seat, and began pacing around the living room. “This is exactly what I had feared. Of course, their appearance in my office at that late hour may be a coincidence, but I don’t think that we can afford to do anything except assume their involvement. Which has troubling implications. I’m reasonably certain that none of my own faction has anything to do with this planned catastrophe—all of my agents have been thoroughly vetted, and, over the past several weeks, I have been monitoring each of them, and have found nothing that raises suspicion. Earth and Water appear to be too busy dealing with their own projects to even consider being a part of this one; all of their agents are accounted for, at least. I haven’t been able to do much more investigating into their individual activities, but their current disposition does not seem hostile. For the moment, I am only pursuing Air and Spirit. And Sean Duff and Max Dugan are both Healers for the Air faction.”
“Air is involved?” I asked in disbelief. “They’re Healers, for Christ’s sake! I heard two of them arguing over nonviolence just two days ago!”
“We don’t know that they’re acting alone,” Rick pointed out. “It could be that they’re being manipulated into all of this.”
Jason nodded. “Spirit may be involved as well, and it’s possible that they are using their influence on some key members of the Air faction. I’ve also considered that an external force may be ultimately responsible.”
The wind picked up outside, the breeze whistling against the awnings of the aged house. It sent an unseasonable chill through the air, and I shivered. I shifted closer to Rick and clutched his hand.
“What we need,” Jason continued. “Is a plan. Can the three of us, here and now, commit to this? Knowing that failure to commit fully may result in the deaths of untold millions of people? And further understanding that, if you do not commit totally and completely, your absolute silence must be maintained on the matter?”
“Yes, sir,” I told him.
“And does the same go for you, Mr. Torin?”
Rick nodded. “Yes, Mr. Butler. I want to help.”
Jason smiled. “While Ms. Tress’s continued deference is to be expected, there is no reason that you may not call me ‘Jason,’ Mr. Torin.”
Rick shook his head. “You’re Mr. Butler, sir. It doesn’t feel right otherwise.”
Jason nodded. “Shall we make a pact, then, to remain true to this cause until its conclusion?”
We nodded in agreement.
Jason resumed his pacing. “Good. Then let us begin with what we know. First, we know that many, many lives are at stake. I do not know that the event will be nuclear, as your inference suggests—I actually believe that that happened to be a coincidence. The failure of my agents in that mission appears to be caused by a militant group that didn’t like the idea of nuclear disarmament. None of the other factions seem to be involved, though we can’t discount the possibility.”
“Okay. I’d prefer it wouldn’t be nuclear anyway, so that’s good news to us.”
“Agreed. Second, Focus is somehow involved in the perpetration of this event. As I said before, I’m reasonably sure that the majority of my own faction is not implicated, but I’ve been wrong before. I’m slowly eliminating suspects. Working alone, it has been extraordinarily time consuming, especially considering I have to keep my investigation secret. With three of us, it should significantly speed up the process.
The wind howled outside, rattling the windows in their frames. Rick fidgeted in his seat. He looked anxious.
“Do you think an entire faction plans to defect?” I asked.
Jason shook his head. “I don’t know. I’m not even sure what the motive for an atrocity of this magnitude could possibly be. For all I know, it could just be four angry and bitter wizards.” He looked at me, squaring his gaze with my own. “That motive, Ms.
Tress, is what I would like you to find out.”
I stared at him blankly. He continued.
“As an initiate, you are ideally placed for intelligence gathering. You can get close to these people, figure out what it is that they are planning, and, together, we can come up with a workable strategy to stop them.”
He walked over to me and placed his hand on my shoulder. “Nora Tress. You may be the only hope for millions of people. Can you do this? Can you be brave enough to act?”
I glanced at Rick. He was plainly afraid for me, worried at what might happen if I agreed. Despite that, he smiled in support, and squeezed my hand.
“Yes, sir. I think I can.”
Jason grinned, a fierce smile that took years off his complexion. “Excellent. Tomorrow, we—“
Rick leapt off the couch, causing Jason to stumble backwards.
“Rick, what are you—“
“Quiet, Nora,” he said sharply, his voice low. “Someone’s here.”
“What?” I whispered. My pulse quickened as I began to panic. A direct confrontation with Focus agents would be all too likely to leave me as a puddle of unidentifiable goo on the floor.
Jason, however, appeared calm. He picked up his candle and began drawing in power. His eyes were tense with concentration as he spoke. “Nora, if we are going to be attacked, it is imperative that you aren’t seen. They do not know about you yet, and it is far better for all involved if your involvement remains a secret.”
Rick began unbutton his shirt. “I’m going to check things out. See if I can tell what we’re up against.”
“How do you know anyone is even coming?” I asked.
Rick spared me a withering glance. “Same way you knew I was following you. Something’s off. And the wind is picking up even more now.” He was right. The breeze had turned into a gale.
Rick tossed his shirt to the floor and shimmered for a brief moment. Before I could blink, a small tabby cat stood in his place, crawling out of his empty jeans. He streaked off towards the back door, through the kitchen.
Jason, meanwhile, had gathered flame into a tightly packed ball that hovered a few inches above his hand. Much like the one I had used to intimidate Rick when I first met him—only far hotter and denser, like a miniature star—it didn’t appear to cause any discomfort to Jason, despite his proximity to it. The old veteran apparently had no need to focus on keeping it in place, because he didn’t appear to pay any attention to it at all.
“Ms. Tress. I believe that these people have come for me, and me alone. If they are moving against me in this way, then my activities are exposed. It is safe to say that they intend to kill me, here and now, rather than wait for me to complete the investigation.” He gazed at me, searching my eyes for something. “I intend to kill these people, and quickly, before they have a chance to report.”
I nodded. Property destruction aside, I am not a particularly violent person. That said, the situation did not allow for squeamishness.
“As I said before, if they do not know about you yet, we cannot afford to let any of them escape. There is every chance that they will notice your car up front, or that you will be spotted. There must be no survivors. Do you understand?”
I nodded once more.
Rick came darting back into the room on four legs before shifting back into his familiar body. He grabbed his pants and roughly shoved them back on. “Six of them. Four in the front, two in the back. I recognized the two guys who came to your office. They’re covering the backyard.”
“Air, then,” Jason rumbled. “Well, fine. If it’s a fight they want…” he trailed off, his tone menacing.
“Nora, come with me. You’re going to the attic,” Rick insisted.
“Yeah, fuck that,” I told him. Rick and Jason looked at me in surprise. “What? You expect me to run and hide while you guys handle the bad guys? I don’t give a shit if I’m supposed to be a secret. I’m scared half to death, but the two of you need to accept right now that you will not bench me.”
Rick looked down at the floor, ashamed. Jason, however, offered me a fierce grin. “You would do well in my faction, Ms. Tress.”
I smiled back. “Yeah, well, we’ll talk about that later. Right now, I think we have to—“
Each of the windows in sight simultaneously exploded inward, sending broken glass flying at us from every direction. Several shards drew lines of fire across my thigh and chest as they cut my skin. I flung myself to the ground, dragging Rick with me. I squirmed over him to cover as much of his body with my own as I could while the rain of glass continued. I felt a few nicks and one deeper slash between my shoulder blades before the rain of shrapnel finally stopped. Wind continued to howl through the house, now unimpeded by the windows. It felt like being caught in the middle of a thunderstorm.
Rick had to scream inches away from my ear before I realized that he was talking.
“WHAT?” I shouted.
“ARE YOU HURT?”
“DON’T KNOW.”
“WHERE’S JASON?”
I raised my head, craning my neck to look around the small living room. Pictures had been yanked from the wall by the wind, the chronicle of Jason’s life scattered across the floor, frames shattered, photos torn. It was a few moments before I spotted the grizzled veteran.
Jason Butler, Fire agent for over thirty years, veteran of two hundred and seventeen combat missions, scarred over from dozens of wounds minor and severe, stood tall against the gale. A trickle of blood ran down his cheek from a gash just below his left eye, right above his old scar, but he paid it no mind. The bathrobe, black and red velvet, flapped around his knees. It would have looked ridiculous on anyone else at that moment, but on Jason, it looked vaguely sinister.
Fury radiated from him in waves, palpable rage that would not be denied, that would and should send grown men running. The ball of flame, still hovering over his open palm, had turned a bright white, and had shrunk to the size of a pebble. I felt the heat emanating from the miniature sun, even from across the room.
“WHERE ARE THEY?” Jason screamed at Rick.
The skinchanger wriggled out from beneath me. “TWO AT THE END OF THE DRIVEWAY, TWO IN FRONT OF THE GARAGE!” he shouted back.
Jason nodded. He pointed at me, jabbed two fingers toward his eyes, and pointed toward the back door.
Watch for the creeps in the backyard. Got it. I nodded. Rick and I rose from the floor, and began moving toward the back.
Jason didn’t wait for us. He sprinted for the front door, yanked it open, and unleashed hell. Rick and I froze, awestruck at the destruction that he so casually, brutally, wreaked.
He began with the two by the garage. From our vantage point, the front bay windows—now glassless, the tasteful beige curtains in tatters—provided a startling view. On the front porch, Jason gestured with two fingers, jabbing them toward the Air agents, who stood with their hands raised above their heads, evidently combining their magic in an effort to maintain the storm. They needn’t have bothered. From the ball of fire in Jason’s control, a narrow, needlelike tongue of flame darted toward the unsuspecting agents, faster than I would have thought possible. The beam burned through their flesh, catching one of them in the throat and silencing him immediately. His lifeless body fell to the ground with a sickening finality.
His head landed next to him.
The other agent cried out in shock and alarm, and attempted to fling himself out of the way of the ray. It did him little good; Jason made a slashing motion with his hand, and the superhot thread of fire ended his effort in a similar way.
Not done yet, Jason flung the hand controlling the fiery orb towards the end of the driveway. The tiny ball shot across the lawn, where it briefly highlighted two men standing with their arms pointed at the house. Jason clapped his hands, and the fireball expanded to ten feet across in an instant, engulfing the two agents completely. The explosion sent a wave of warm pressure in all directions, knocking Rick and I backwards a few steps. Jason was unm
oved.
He raised his hands, and all of the little fires that had started from his attacks gathered together in a stream, pulled toward Jason’s palm like a bizarre vacuum. He quickly held a fresh ball of flame between his hands, this one larger and orange.
Jason had just killed four men in just a few seconds. It was awe-inspiring, terrifying, and, in an odd (and frankly scary) way, exhilarating.
The wind had begun to die down a bit now that four of the sources were down, and Rick didn’t have to scream to be heard.
“Two more in the back, c’mon, let’s go,” he said, tugging my elbow. We turned, and were bowled over by a column of pressure. It slammed into us like a hammer, tossing us aside easily. It caught Jason flat in the back, sending him sprawling onto his front lawn.
An Air agent, Max Dugan, stood in the kitchen, his hands extended towards us, a savage look of hatred on his face. He spun one hand in a counterclockwise motion, and the air was yanked from my lungs. Instinctively, I tried to gulp in more, but there wasn’t any to be had. Dugan was somehow manipulating the air to create a localized vacuum.
Rick’s mouth was working vainly as he tried to do the same. Quickly, my vision was beginning to fade as dark spots erupted in front of me. I felt my consciousness begin to slip away, and in a last bid to stay alive, I focused as much as I could. I slapped one hand against the hardwood floor, releasing my will into the earth below it. I didn’t have the focus necessary to crush Dugan with a gravitational anomaly, so I had to go for a distraction instead.
A shockwave erupted from where I had contacted the floor. Tremors shook the house as the floorboards cracked, a line of tectonic force rolling toward Dugan, tossing aside everything in its wake. The wave crashed against him before he could react, and he was flung to the floor, his head smacking against the linoleum.
His concentration broken, air immediately returned, and I sucked in a lungful gratefully. I heard Rick gasp from his position next to me. I tried to rise, but was dizzy from lack of oxygen, and stumbled back to one knee. Before I could right myself, a furry shape launched itself towards Dugan’s prostrate form. I heard a brief scream that was cut off almost immediately.
Shifting Focus (A Paranormal, Urban, Fantasy Novella) (Focus Series Book 2) Page 6
