The Returned

by Bishop O'Connell

  Joker looked at the pack on Wraith’s back. “You heading in or out?”

  “Out,” Wraith said. “I have a friend I need to see, but I’ll be back.”

  “You better be,” Benji said and smiled as he stepped up.

  “I didn’t want to leave without saying good-bye,” Wraith said. “And thanks, for everything.”

  “Weren’t no thing, chere,” Benji said.

  Wraith gave Benji a tight hug and kissed his cheek. “Thanks anyway.”

  “And here all I got was a hug,” Joker said through a faux pout.

  “Only because if I did more I wouldn’t be able to stop myself,” Wraith said and winked.

  “Oh, that’s smooth right there,” Joker said and smiled. “By the way, darling, I heard tell that a whole mess of licorice appeared in Ellie’s room out of nowhere. Like, forty pounds of it. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

  Wraith shook her head, trying to look innocent. “No idea. Must’ve been someone amazing though to get it in there without being seen.”

  Joker hugged her and kissed her cheek. “No doubt there. Thank you. You can’t imagine how happy you made her.”

  “Least I could do,” Wraith said and hugged back.

  “You got time or you leaving straight out?” Benji asked.

  Wraith dropped her pack. “I got some time.”

  She had one Southern Storm, then switched to water and enjoyed a couple of hours with her new friends, listening to music and even singing along when they got to a song she knew. After that, it was agreed after that she should never be allowed to sing again. Ever. Anywhere. She didn’t think it was quite that bad. They were probably just jealous. When it was time, she picked up her bag, dropped some twenties into the case when no one was looking, and went to find a quiet spot away from the prying eyes.

  In a small alcove near the river, she drew up the entropic equation and stepped through the universal junction point. When she stepped out, it was into a forest, dark and twisted, like something out of a nightmare. At least it had felt that way before. Now she actually looked forward to visiting this place, though it had nothing to do with the trees or the moon that was forever full and hanging unmoving in the sky. Nor was it the constant dim twilight. No, there was another reason entirely she enjoyed visiting this nightmarish place. Normally anyway. This time something hung like a weight in her chest.

  Brendan was waiting for her this time, and that made her smile. She smiled more to see him in the black Guinness shirt she’d “acquired” for him. Not that there wasn’t something to be said for him being shirtless, but it really just made things uncomfortable all the way around.

  “Nice shirt,” she said.

  He nodded. “Aye, it was a gift from—Jesus, love, what happened to you?” he asked when she got closer.

  “Huh?”

  “You look like you were in a hell of a brawl,” Brendan said.

  She’d forgotten about the bruises on her face. Part of the deal when you rarely look in a mirror. Surely it was an ugly yellow now.

  “It’s fine,” she said. “Couple of guys didn’t like me showing up when they were divvying up their stolen goods.” She smiled. “You should see them.”

  Brendan smiled and nodded. “Aye, I bet you kicked their arses right proper, then.”

  Wraith nodded and set her pack down. “Then I dropped them on an island in the middle of a swamp.”

  “That’s well done, then,” Brendan said.

  “I got this for you,” Wraith said and pulled out the postcard from her bag. It had become a tradition over the last few months. She didn’t know why he chose to stay here, but she could still bring little pieces of the world back to him.

  “Thanks,” Brendan said, smiling as he read the card. When he was done, he looked away and almost looked like he was trying to keep from crying. “New Orleans this time, then, yeah?”

  Wraith nodded, touched by the impact such small gestures had on him, but she’d never comment on it. “I got you this too,” she said and handed him a folded black shirt. “I figured you might need more than the one.”

  Brendan opened it to reveal the words Big Easy on the front. He looked at it then at Wraith with narrowed eyes. “What’re you saying, then?”

  Wraith laughed and rolled her eyes. “You don’t get out much, do you? That’s what they call New Orleans. You know, like New York is the Big Apple, and Chicago is the Windy City.”

  “Do they, now?”

  Wraith shook her head as she reached back into the bag and pulled out a couple of po-boys and handed one to Brendan.

  He looked at it then at her.

  “You need to broaden your horizons,” she said and sat down.

  He joined her, and they ate their sandwiches.

  “That’s not bad there,” he said and accepted the bottle of water Wraith offered. He took a couple of more bites and eyed Wraith. “There’s more to your tale than you said, isn’t there?”

  She blinked. “What?”

  “You don’t have to be telling,” he said. “But I can see in your eyes that something happened.”

  Wraith nodded. She wondered how much to tell him. She didn’t know anything beyond the small pieces he’d shared, the tidbits she’d pieced together, and now what Caitlin had told her. But for whatever reason, he clearly didn’t want anyone to know he was here or even alive. Perhaps he was trapped here, which she didn’t think likely. She came and went easily enough, so it seemed safe to assume she could take him with her. That meant he was hiding, which she could respect. Sometimes you needed time to figure things out. She could give him that.

  When she finished her sandwich, she looked up to find Brendan eyeing her.

  “What?” she asked.

  He stood and motioned with his head for her to follow before walking a dozen feet away. Wraith got to her feet and followed.

  “How much do you know about fighting?” Brendan asked. “Without magic, I mean.”

  “Uh,” Wraith said, “why does it matter? I do have magic.”

  “Aye.” Brendan nodded at her. “But them bruises on your face should prove to you that you can’t always rely on it.”

  “You’re going to teach me to fight?” Wraith asked.

  “Aye,” he said. “We’ll start with fists and, when you’re ready, move to blades. Now take a shot at me. Use your magic if you like.”

  Wraith shuffled from one foot to the other. “I don’t know. It doesn’t seem fair to—Bang!”

  Before she’d even raised her hand to point her finger at him, he’d moved to the side and closed the distance between them. In less time than it took her to blink, he’d grabbed her wrist and twisted it around behind her back. It hurt just enough to demonstrate to her how easy it would be for him to make it hurt really bad.

  “Okay,” Wraith said. “Maybe I could use a few lessons.”

  EPILOGUE

  One sat and waited, going over everything in his head. It was like this after every mission. He wasn’t questioning himself or the mission. He rarely did. Rather, he analyzed the operation to see where things could be improved. Well, that’s what he normally did. Now he was going over the Aegis Protocol reports, and his stomach twisted. In the twenty-three years of his military service, he’d done things he wasn’t proud of, but he’d always had the comfort of knowing it served a larger good. He knew the importance of the Geneva Convention and rules of war. Without them, he and his soldiers were no better than those they were fighting. But this was different. These weren’t soldiers, suspected terrorists, or even enemy combatants. These were kids. This was exactly why the military should never operate domestically, though he wasn’t sure any of the clandestine services chartered for that would act any more honorably.

  That’s what it came down to: honor. A code of honor had been instilled into him since his first day at boot camp. It wasn’t just something for T-shirts and flag-waving citizens; it meant something. At least it used to.

  He checked his watc
h, then glanced around the room. The two receptionists were busy typing into their computers. It felt good to be back in uniform, felt honest. And he’d worn it for so long that it was the only thing that felt comfortable on him anymore. That was yet another reason he hated working stateside. He wasn’t cut out for this, and neither was his team.

  “He’ll see you now, Colonel,” one of the receptionists said, a young man in a dark suit.

  “Thank you, James,” One said.

  One rose, opened the office door, stepped inside, then closed the door and went to attention. Every movement precise and crisp. It didn’t matter that this was a civilian. It was his commanding officer as dictated by the Constitution of the United States, and he was a soldier.

  The room would probably intimidate the hell out of most people, but One had been here enough over the years, seen enough different men sit behind that desk, that it was just an office now. Even the title of the man behind the desk didn’t intimidate him, though he did respect the title and the office.

  Said man was in his late fifties, hair perfect, and wearing a dark gray tailored suit.

  “That’s excellent. Keep me informed,” the secretary of defense said into his phone. A moment later he hung up and glanced over at One.

  “Sir,” One said, still at attention; posture rigid, eyes forward.

  SecDef picked up a file folder and began looking it over.

  One had been on the receiving end of ass-chewings by the very best. The current secretary of defense was a middleweight on his best day.

  “I’m curious, Colonel,” SecDef said without looking up or offering One a seat, “as to how a nurse, a psychiatrist, and a homeless teenager figured out the source of the disturbance before you and your team.”

  “With all due respect, sir,” One said, “my men and I are soldiers, trained for combat, not investigation. As per your direct orders to not involve our contacts with the FBI, we did the very best we could. By any measure, sir, the mission was a complete success.”

  “And why wasn’t the girl”—SecDef looked over the report—“one Anna Smith, not taken into custody?”

  One nodded at the file but still remained at attention, eyes ahead. “As my report says, sir, I deemed the threat neutralized, so there was no need to take a child into custody. My men all confirmed she is a minor talent at best, and all her actions were done under the influence of the entity.”

  “And the artifact?” SecDef asked, reading another section of the report. “It says here the homeless girl”—he shook his head and rolled his eyes—“Wraith, claimed to have sent the artifact quote ‘somewhere near the orbit of the planet Mercury.’ Is that right?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  SecDef drew in a long breath. “And you believe her?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Enough to not pursue what is most certainly an incredibly powerful artifact?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “May I ask why?”

  “Seven reported seeing her attempting to destroy the artifact,” One said. “She was unsuccessful. Again, Seven reported to me that she then used a spell almost identical to the one she uses to teleport herself on the artifact. When the spell was done, the amulet was gone.”

  “And what’s to say she didn’t just send it someplace so she could use it herself at some point?”

  “With respect, sir,” One said, “you didn’t see this thing and what it did. There was no containing it. I wasn’t sure the measures Seven had in place would even work. The girl is smart enough to know that. My instincts say she was telling the truth, and I’ve learned to trust those instincts. Sir.”

  SecDef looked up for the first time and smiled, but it was a politician’s smile. “Well, that’s good enough for me. I trust your instincts too.” He shook his head. “Christ, eight months ago I thought all this magic stuff was just in books and movies with knights and dragons.”

  One nodded. “It can be a bit of a shock, sir.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake,” SecDef said. “At ease, Colonel.”

  Without thinking, One assumed the familiar position and, even after all these years, heard his first drill instructor shouting each part of the position to kids who missed some of it.

  SecDef let out a sigh. “You’re not here for a dressing-down, Colonel Dehart.” He set the report down and leaned back into his chair. “This was a difficult mission. You made some tough calls, and I think they were the right ones. That child has been through enough. And while the artifact might’ve been useful for intel on the Order, if it was as bad as you say it was . . . ”

  “It was worse,” One said, his tone carefully controlled despite the obvious mountain of politician bullshit being shoveled around him.

  “Then we’d have wound up with researchers under its influence,” SecDef continued. “We can’t allow that kind of breach of security or lack of vigilance.”

  One relaxed a bit, but something still didn’t feel right.

  SecDef popped a candy into his mouth and gestured to one of the chairs in front of his desk. One took it.

  “Of course,” SecDef said, “we’ll be keeping an eye on Anna to ensure there are no lingering effects from the possession.”

  “Of course, sir,” One said, which was technically true. In fact, they’d be watching the entire area, just not her specifically.

  “You and your men did exceptional work given the circumstances, Colonel. And I know these kinds of missions were never something you were comfortable with.”

  One didn’t say anything, but he couldn’t help but notice the secretary was speaking in past tense.

  “But I think you saw how vital it was,” he continued. “Simply put, there was no one else. You and your men were about the only people who had any real-world experience with supernatural activities. And whom we were sure hadn’t been infiltrated.”

  He was, of course, talking about the FBI team that had been murdered in Seattle by one of its own: Agent Danielle Kowalski, a member of the Order who’d been hiding in plain sight for better than a decade. The Legion had been responsible for cleaning up that mess too. It made him tired just to think about it. At least the mole had turned up dead a few days later.

  “That is until now,” SecDef said.

  “Sir?” One asked. Only a single blink made it through his stone mask, but for anyone who knew him, it was akin to his jaw dropping to the floor.

  “Now, I don’t want you to think this is because of anything you or your team has done.”

  Which meant it was exactly that.

  “It’s just impractical to expect the seven of you to deal with an ever-increasing threat overseas, an area that you are trained to deal with, and a second domestically, for which you admit you are not.”

  This was why he hated politicians; constantly manipulating the truth to their advantage. One could see where this was going, and he could taste bile rising up from his stomach. But he ignored it, another skill he’d learned over the years.

  “Does that mean you’re sending us back into the field, sir?”

  “Eventually,” SecDef said. “The Brits are putting together their own version of your team. The president has agreed to send you and your men as advisors. After some well-deserved downtime, of course.”

  Here it comes, One thought to himself.

  “However,” SecDef said, “before we send you across the pond, we need you to bring the new investigative team up to speed.”

  One waited for the other shoe to drop.

  “Since we don’t currently have anyone, we’ll be outsourcing it to contract specialists.” SecDef gave another politician’s smile. “Just until we have our own team up and running, of course.”

  One knew neither his face nor his body language gave anything away. You couldn’t command effectively if you showed distress or any emotion but absolute certainty. But he wanted to slap this bastard and everyone like him who felt the rule of law could be manipulated whenever it was most convenient. One was a soldier, but he also had a
soul and knew part of being a good soldier was recognizing immoral orders, when and if they were ever given. Every soldier had a duty to question those orders. He did not like the idea of those kinds of orders being outsourced to some corporation and hired mercenaries. They would never be questioned, which was why they got outsourced in the first place. His stomach twisted, but he also learned never to react without thinking things through. So he swallowed the bile back and nodded.

  “Yes, sir. I’ll pass the word to my men.”

  “Do that,” SecDef said, his smile widening. “I knew we could count on you.”

  The last thing that had smiled like that, One had shot for trying to get to his family’s chickens.

  “How are the new facilities coming along? What about those improved defenses?”

  “I’m working on the full report for you now,” One said. “In short, we’ve developed some new and better wards. We’re also expanding and redoubling the ones we already have.”

  “So I don’t need to worry about any more little girls sneaking in uninvited?”

  “No, sir,” One said, keeping his tone flat and even.

  “What about this Dr. Huntington and his wife?”

  “It’s all in my report, sir,” One said. “I don’t foresee them, either of them, being a threat. It was pure coincidence that brought them into this situation. Neither of them poses any threat, in my opinion.”

  “And their relationship with the girl, Wraith?”

  “I can’t speak for specifics,” One said. “But they appear on good terms.”

  “Can we get to the girl through them?”

  One kept from grinding his teeth, barely. “Perhaps. But I urge extreme caution when dealing with her.”

  SecDef nodded, obviously dismissing the warning. “We’ll keep them under watch. That girl is still a potential threat, and I don’t like a loose cannon walking around free and clear. In point of fact, I’m not overly fond of anyone with that kind of ability walking around without some kind of monitoring. What’s to stop her, or someone like her, from getting into the Pentagon or the White House?”

  “We’ve improved the existing defenses and protections around any place that’s a high-value target, sir,” One said. “But as we’ve seen, it doesn’t take magic for someone to breach even the most secure buildings.”