Drift: The Renegades Saga: Book Two

by E. M. Whittaker

  Musky earth tones released some tension, but the deafening voices canceled Aviere’s reassurance. The noises inside the earpiece reminded the Poisoner about her predicament and she forced herself to adjust to Travis’s voice inside her aching eardrum. “Look, it’s not my fault the door to my shop’s smashed to pieces, Travis.”

  “Don’t go inside, Mye,” Travis ordered. “I swear to God, if—”

  “Limere’s here,” Aviere said with a cheerful lift to her voice. “I should be okay.”

  “Should,” her partner answered with a bubbled snort. “Key word, Aviere.”

  “I agree,” Peters responded. “I started taking Xanax and Prozac to handle your bullshit. But I need a stronger dose.”

  “Neuro, I don’t think humans make medicine strong enough to deal with your personality disorders and OCD.”

  Glass crunched under Aviere’s boots as she headed inside, open-mouthed at her destroyed shop. She stepped over displaced torn books and coughed as dust rose from the debris. Part of the ceiling swayed, ready to drop at the slightest tremor. Disintegrated drywall caked the wooden floor, almost causing her to slip from its finite dust.

  A remark passed by Aviere’s ear, but she blinked in shock, resisting the urge to sink to her knees.

  “No snide insult, Mye?” Peters said.

  Aviere squeezed her eyes, trying to stop the fluttering butterflies in her abdomen. “Ma’s shop’s ruined. There’s debris everywhere… the ceiling’s caving in… everything I’ve accomplished… created…”

  Buzzing filled the earpiece before loud expletives filled Aviere’s ear.

  “You owe me coffee,” Travis stated, voice tight. “Stay where you are. Don’t do anything.”

  Aviere shook her head. “I’m fine, Travis.”

  “I mean it, woman. Don’t do a fucking thing except breathe. Even that’s questionable at this point.”

  “I’ll let you know when—”

  A sickening, splintering crack made her panic before she ducked for cover.

  Debris trailed behind her, littering the ground with dust and plaster. As adrenaline coursed through her bloodstream, Aviere covered her mouth and nose to avoid breathing in the fine dust. She panted, struggling to elude the trail of plaster and the groaning supports above her.

  Thirty seconds later, the Poisoner teetered at her heightened eyesight, cursing her feline vision for making things blurry.

  Oh shit, the ceiling—

  After a few seconds of creaking, enormous sections of plaster crashed through the wooden floor.

  Aviere slipped on the dust, coughing when she landed on the ground. She waved a white dust cloud out of her face and gaped at the massive holes in the middle of the first floor.

  No… Ma… I’m sorry…

  “Move, Sis! Jesus, I can’t hold this shit forever!”

  Rumbling and cracking made Aviere sprint toward Limere’s glowing silver hands. Aviere’s vision shifted again mid-run, and she stumbled backward, momentarily dazed.

  Move, Vi! Move before—

  Aviere levitated off the floor and landed next to Limere before the silver energy dissipated from his fingers. Her heart raced as she skittered behind her brother, watching in horror as the hole grew. When it ceased, Aviere stood on her tiptoes, boosting her height by pressing on Limere’s shoulders. “What—”

  “Thank god, Sis,” Limere breathed. “There’s dark magic everywhere.” She felt Limere shudder. “Let’s hurry… you know, leave before the rest of the building goes.”

  Aviere pocketed her glasses before peering down the hole, winced at the popped stitches of her cotton shirt and gloves, and then groaned at the fine black fur peeking through underneath her shirt’s collar. She willed herself to stop before her clothing shredded to pieces.

  The safe. Our supplies—our livelihood—once the police arrive, they’ll arrest both of us for drug trafficking.

  “Limere, if they notice the stuff inside the safe—” She twirled her brother around and tilted her head at his wide-eyed stare. “Lim?”

  He splayed his hands and shook his head. Silver energy flickered, then fizzled seconds later. “Something’s blocking my magic.” Limere tried again, shaking when nothing happened. “I can’t do a damn thing.”

  “Mye, he’s right,” Travis said in a gruff tone. “Get out of there. I can’t get to you.”

  Aviere peered down the large hole, ignoring her quivering muscles. Feline senses caught every noise, but her eyes rested on Limere, who needed her to dictate orders. The stench of rotting flesh grew the closer she crept to the hole.

  “Dark magic stinks,” Aviere said, unaware she spoke aloud. “Smells like decayed flesh and puke. Never believed shifters before, but—”

  “Sis, contemplate later and stop moving toward the hole!”

  “Lim, we need to get downstairs.”

  “There’s nothing left. Everything’s gone.” Limere’s tone dropped several pitches. “The supplies—the computer equipment—even the fucking safe’s empty.”

  “Oh god.” Aviere paled, almost lightheaded as the severity of the situation hit her. She almost forgot how to breathe. “My meds. The serums—the blood! My blood. They’ll find out what I am.”

  “Sis, calm down,” Limere told her, clutching her shoulders tightly. “I had enough time to snatch the materials you hid downstairs.” He slung a heavy black duffel bag over her shoulder. “It’s got your laptop, stuff from Pop, and—”

  She held up a hand before cupping it behind her ear. Cerulean eyes widened as she caught the rhythm of synchronized ticks. Tiny feet scurried to the edge of the large hole before accepting the bottom floor contained high-charge explosives.

  At another set of ticks, then Aviere felt Limere’s sweaty hand pull her backward.

  “Sis, I said—”

  “Lim, run!” The Poisoner stressed the last word as her downcast eyes stared at the ransacked basement, recognizing expensive computer equipment and the shattered shards of broken test tubes. Neon liquid glowed on the concrete.

  Then another sequence of ticks forced Aviere to action and she stepped backward.

  “Sis—”

  “I said run, now!!”

  The building groaned and various objects scattered to the ground behind them. Quickly, they bolted, hoping to elude the bomb before it detonated. As she sprinted, Aviere turned her head, growling when Limere trailed behind her.

  He won’t survive! Screw it, carry him, Vi. Deal with his wounded pride later!

  As Limere reached her location, Aviere swept the lanky man off his feet and carried him over her shoulder, relying on her feline prowess to guide her down the street. Some pedestrians yelled when she bumped into them and another shrieked when she leaped over two children playing with sidewalk chalk on the white concrete.

  Even the yelling inside the earpiece felt like buzzing as blood pounded in Aviere’s ears, and she swung into a deserted alleyway as a sickening boom punctuated the building’s destruction.

  The bitter smell of ammonia and spoiled pork seemed distant as her arms tightened around a flailing Limere’s legs, willing her adrenaline pumped body to remain upright. Lithe fingers dug into Limere’s dingy jeans and tight muscles, fighting for words as she inhaled infected, smoggy air.

  That’s it, then. I lost Ma’s—

  “Mye!” Travis yelled. “What in God’s name—”

  “I’m all right!” Aviere panted, setting Limere on the ground. “Limere’s fine, too.” She rested a hand on her chest, working on quelling her hammering heartbeat. “Find out who blew up my workshop, Neuro. I’ll delight in killing the son of a bitch who destroyed the last thing my mother left me.”

  Silence lingered on the shared connection.

  “Neuro?”

  Limere tapped her shoulder. “People don’t like—”

  Aviere narrowed her feline eyes, puffing out her chest when Limere darted back. “Peters, answer me before I smother you with rotten-smelling trash bags.”

  “
You can’t even shoot a handgun, yet you’re vowing vengeance,” Peters protested in awe. “I swear to God, you have a death wish, shifter.”

  Order, donna, she exhaled slowly. You can do this. Eisen and Gunther trusted you to run operations for a reason.

  Cerulean eyes darkened as she turned to Limere. “Limere, work with Maurice and find our culprit. You mentioned mages. Chelsea either has a rogue working for her or is in league with the Red Coat Society. I don’t like either option, but I put nothing past your ex-girlfriend.”

  Limere nodded. “I’ll call when I find out something.”

  Aviere rested a finger on the bridge of her nose, fighting exhaustion as the adrenaline wore off. “Good. I’ll meet the agents for the meeting with Sanderson. I’ll teleport with Travis.”

  The thought of teleporting turned her face gray before she clasped his shoulder.

  “Ah, Sis… I can—”

  “No.” Aviere swallowed before glancing at her bracelet. “I’m tethered. Go.”

  She lowered her head while peering at the disappearing mage, arm lowering once the spell completed. Before he shimmered from view, Aviere sensed hurt behind his ice-blue eyes and sighed.

  After another howl from Peters’s problem cat, Aviere flicked back stray strands of unruly brunette hair and straightened her posture.

  “Neuro, when we’re done meeting Sanderson, start researching pharmaceutical and criminal databases,” Aviere continued, gazing down the alley. The humid, smoggy air didn’t help the Poisoner’s exhausted state or suppress the curdled milk wafting from a nearby sixty-gallon trash container. “Have it ready by this afternoon so we can narrow down our suspects.”

  Peters’s fist banged on a solid surface. “I’m not taking orders from a shifter, Mye.”

  “You accept orders and pay from Sanderson, among others. However, it’s better than being my next scientific test subject.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Sanderson’s eager for reports about my genetic mutation,” Aviere explained, voice dripping with scorn. “Using myself is painful sometimes, so I—”

  “I’m not your guinea pig or experiment, Mye,” Peters interrupted, voice rumbling by the last word. “You better settle down before reporting to Sanderson.”

  Aviere had a retort but gaped when she caught muttered concern as Peters disconnected, followed by profane remarks.

  As she processed Peters’s change of heart, Aviere twitched her nose and grimaced when harsh aftershave burned her nostrils. She twirled and faced her partner, coughing from various smells.

  “About time you showed up.”

  “Stop arguing with Peters, Mye,” Travis said, holding two fingers to his temple before closing an eye. “I realize you’re high strung but—”

  The darkened alleyway hid so much, but Aviere’s bravado faded when she pulled him close. She shuddered as she clung to him, ragged breaths escaping her lips. Hot air made it tough to breathe, and the aftershave almost suffocated the feline.

  Despite the discomfort, Aviere pressed into him and willed herself to breathe through her mouth instead of her nose.

  “I lost Ma again. Christ, I couldn’t defend the inheritance she gave us. Lim and I learned everything from her. Sometimes, she had weekends off… but she taught before school, too.”

  Travis’s calloused hand went through her hair, and she noticed the awkward embrace a moment later. “Your mom sounds like a dangerous woman.” The rough voice worried Aviere. “But we need to get going. Sanderson’s having a fit.”

  She buried her head in his musky trench coat and pursed her lips in a flat line, swearing vengeance on her adversaries as they departed.

  Once her feet landed on solid ground, Aviere shoved Travis away, fighting through dizziness and nausea.

  She gulped and hugged herself, swallowing to contain the bile rising in her throat. For a moment, she kept it under control, meeting Travis’s soft hazel eyes. The cold, dank corridor helped her flushed face, but the stale air triggered her nausea again. When she covered her mouth, he pointed to a cracked door and buried his face in his large cowboy hat, shaking his head.

  Aviere hurried and scouted around the room, trying to remain composed as Sanderson watched her. He formed a steeple with his rugged tanned hands and squinted at her with smoldering, golden brown eyes. “You’re fifteen minutes late, Mye.”

  She opened her mouth to respond, but collapsed, retching into the tiny black wastebasket next to his desk.

  “You’ll have to excuse her,” Travis called from the door. “This happens every time we teleport somewhere.”

  Aviere tried retorting, but her body insisted on regurgitating breakfast. Smooth, warm hands rested on her neck, holding her hair back. She panted and tried quelling her nausea, wishing desperately for a toilet to support her trembling body. The lavender tones from Peters’s clothes helped, but Travis’s aftershave negated the calming effect.

  Sanderson threw up his hands in exasperation. “She races cars, yet—”

  “I know,” Travis drawled. “I’m still trying to figure that out, too.”

  Aviere took a deep breath and spit in the trash can. “Vertigo.” Her eyes teared, and she fought the urge to continue heaving. Once she wiped her lips and cleared her eyes, she glowered at Sanderson. “The adrenaline kicks in when I race because it’s gradual and I’m in control. Teleporting is too sudden.”

  Sanderson snorted. “Interesting.” Then he shifted in the chair. “If you’ve recovered, sit. We’re fifteen minutes behind schedule, so refrain from killing Peters until after the meeting is over.”

  Aviere eased herself up, rested her hands on her legs, and inhaled in deep ragged breaths, swallowing more putrid bile. She grabbed Sanderson’s bottled water and chugged it down, washing away some of the foul taste. She watched Peters return to his chair and Aviere grabbed the one furthest from the specialist as she finished the refreshing drink.

  Travis dumped the duffel bag and her handbag beside her feet, shaking his head again as he stood beside her.

  Aviere grabbed her purse and noticed the time displayed on her iPhone when movement activated the touch screen.

  My serum. It’s risky, but inject it while you’re safe, Vi.

  She rooted through her purse, ignoring Sanderson’s rich, baritone voice, intent on finding her serum before forgetting again. Aviere retrieved a miniature black padlocked box and opened it with the key code. A single sangria-colored vial remained, reminding her of the destroyed shop.

  Ask about a workshop so you can produce more, Vi… before Sanderson’s self-righteous attitude takes over.

  Aviere shook the vial in her right hand and cleared her throat. “Lowell, hold up.”

  Sanderson’s face darkened and he grabbed a fistful of his dark brown hair. “What now?”

  “I need a workshop or a laboratory,” she said as she removed an elastic tourniquet from her handbag. “My shop blew up fifteen minutes ago—kind of why I was late.” She waved Travis over while lifting a billowy violet sleeve. “Wrap the band around my arm so I can spot a vein, will you?”

  From beside her, she caught Travis’s exasperated groan when he knelt next to her. “Mye, wait till—”

  “Let Aviere take her damn medicine or she’ll become incapacitated,” Sanderson ordered. “Now, focus before I lose my patience.”

  She balled her fist and examined her arm, blocking out the pain from reduced blood flow. As soon as she found the vein above her elbow joint, Aviere stabbed it and emptied the vial.

  Her heartbeat relaxed as the serum relaxed her body. Between the men’s voices and heat warming her tense limbs, Aviere drifted off as her face flushed and the serum took effect.

  In the midst of a delightful daydream, Sanderson growled.

  The growl sounded far away as the Poisoner raised an eyelid.

  As Aviere’s head hit her chest, Sanderson banged his hand on the desk, damaging the granite.

  Well, that’s almost in tune with Gunther’s temper, Aviere m
used as she jerked awake and fluttered her heavy eyelids. Lowell even rips daydreams from me, goddammit.

  “I gave you a few minutes, Aviere,” Sanderson warned. “Pay attention.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Hmph.” Sanderson tossed his gold spectacles on the broken desk before straightening his tie. “Mye, you’ll stick around here. I’ll set you up with another forensics specialist so you have everything you need to finish evaluating the stuff Roland gave you. I’m told you received other specimens as well.”

  “Yes…” she answered, drawling out each word.

  “Set up and get to work. I know better than to help fund your new base of operations. However, I’ll donate some top-of-the-line equipment… with some stipulations, of course.”

  Aviere’s eyes softened as she blinked, pushing herself to focus. Then she shifted and rested her gloved hands on her dusty jeans. “Thanks, Lowell. Might help determine our next move.”

  From her right, Aviere sensed Travis’s fear as his aftershave sharpened through her nostrils. His hand thumped on her shoulder as his fingers snatched her cotton shirt.

  “Sir, someone should stay with Mye. Cray Alberin is insane. He’s a demented scientist with a corpse inside his lab. Either that or feathers all over his floor.”

  Aviere chuckled. “Travis, Cray molts.”

  “Any time you’re alone, you get in trouble.” The mage’s fingers trailed to her forearm and gripped it hard. “Take this morning. I didn’t even finish the morning paper before a building exploded. Halfway through my coffee and a goddamn building—”

  “By the—stop bitching you’ll lose your head, Travis,” Sanderson interrupted, tapping a pen on the desk. “Go check out the nightclub I mentioned. It’s within your ten-mile radius. Since Mye’s occupied with forensics, she’s safer here.” Sanderson chuckled. “Then again, perhaps one of you should fret. You’re paired with a hellcat who races street cars for fun and eludes you the first chance she gets.”

  Across from her, Peters threw the chair across the room. “We don’t need to go there. Dalara’s setting us up, and she’s covering for him.”

  Here we go, prick. I let the first outburst go, but two’s over my limit.