Agents, Agreements and Aggravations: In Her Paranormal Majesty’s Secret Service™ Book Three

by Anderle, Michael

  “Why a theater?” Jennie couldn’t keep the warble from her voice. “We don’t need one in the King’s Court.”

  Carolyn tilted her head and smiled. “Every Court needs a place to enjoy a show. Even Henry VIII had his jesters. And, besides, I’ve seen your place in London. It’s below a theater. Don’t tell me that the arts don’t have a place in your heart.” She placed a hand on Jennie’s shoulder and looked deep into her eyes. “This isn’t just a place to operate and fight corrupt specters and mortals. This is to be your home, remember?”

  Jennie did something that neither Baxter nor Carolyn expected. She wrapped her arms around Carolyn’s neck and cried with happiness.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Washington DC, USA

  Special Agent Holly Daggro was the first one to spot the Mustang pulling up in the parking lot. With the tinted windows, she couldn’t see who had accompanied Jennie on her return to HQ, but she knew for certain that the pompous bitch would be driving.

  Sure enough, Jennie exited the vehicle looking more like a steampunk princess than the agent she was supposed to be. It was a waste, Daggro thought. All that ability and power, and she still refused to cooperate. It was all about her, the selfish bitch. All about Rogue, and no one else.

  Still, Daggro had power now, and that meant something. Rogers had left her standing as acting Special Agent in Charge while he was off doing whatever it was he had to do for the President, and so the SIA was hers to operate.

  Daggro called two passing agents into her office and instructed them to summon Rogue to her office. When they left, she paced around the neatly kept space and poured herself a glass of water. A series of CCTV feeds tracked their progress, and smug satisfaction came over her face when she saw Rogue’s immediate resistance to instruction.

  Oh, but we have an agreement, don’t we? Let’s all work together nicely, shall we? You may be independent on paper, but we’re growing faster than you can imagine. Soon you’ll have to yield to our superiority. It’s only a matter of time. And you won’t like that, will you? The girl who has spent so many years at the top of the food chain, reduced to nothing more than a cog in the machine. Sure, your resistance is strong now, but even the sharpest knives grow dull over time.

  Rogue didn’t even bother knocking on her door, choosing instead to barge in and place her hands on her hips. “What is it, Daggro? I’m not here for you.”

  Daggro eyed her levelly and took her time in her reply. “I was getting worried about you, Rogue. Gone for four days now and not even a word to check in with the SIA? You’re our greatest asset, and you’re off, well… Where did you go?”

  Rogue’s nostrils flared, but she kept her cool. “That’s my business. I only returned here because I heard that the mission in Chinatown had been a success. Feng Mian is a good friend of mine, and I wanted to be sure he was okay.”

  Daggro laughed, the sound unnatural from her thin lips. “Please, Rogue. I wasn’t born yesterday. You’re up to something, and I want to know what it is.”

  Rogue shrugged. “Can’t a friend visit a friend and check that friend is okay after they haven’t seen that friend for a long time?”

  They stared at each other for a moment, before Rogue added, “Are we done?”

  Daggro nodded. “For now. Don’t forget, I have eyes and ears to the ground here. Camera feeds capture everything that goes on in the SIA, and Rogers will be interested to know the insubordination you’ve already inspired in one of your former colleagues. Interesting, that, too. You brought back your Mustang but didn’t return the Chevrolet. Rhone will be most displeased.”

  Rogue rolled her eyes. “That’s what this is about? A car? Don’t worry, Rhone can have his car back the next time I swing it by. I’ll let him know when I pass him in the halls—unless he’s out on some mission, that is?”

  Daggro leered, revealing a row of pristine white teeth. “Oh, you don’t know?” She told Rogue about her encounter with Rhone and his dismissal.

  The color drained from Rogue’s face. It was satisfying to watch. Daggro was almost positive that people rarely got the upper hand on this woman, and here she was reveling in the rewards. Rebellion was fueled by the resisters, and the more resistance Daggro could remove, the easier it would be to push the SIA in the right direction and turn the organization into the spectral powerhouse it should be.

  Rogue crossed over to Daggro’s desk, a thundercloud brewing behind her. She removed her glasses and gave Daggro the first real look at her eyes she had ever seen. A world of memory and knowledge swirled in the depths of her pupils as her eyes narrowed and fixed on the agent.

  “You’re playing with fire,” Jennie growled in a low voice, aware of the guards behind her. “I hope you know what you’re doing here.”

  Daggro feigned innocence. “Me? I don’t know what you mean, Rogue. We’re all on the same side, aren’t we?”

  Rogue stood to her full height and placed her glasses back on. “Just wait until Rogers is back. He and I will be having words.”

  “Oh, didn’t you hear?” Daggro cooed. “Rogers won’t be back for at least a few weeks. Life at the top is busy, particular when you’re at the President’s beck and call. They want to make sure that the strategy for the SIA is perfect and the department becomes the main authority nationwide. I’m sure they wouldn’t want anything to get in their way.” She fixed her eyes on Rogue. “Anything. At. All.”

  Rogue held her gaze for a few moments before sweeping out of the room without another word. Daggro followed her on the cameras as she strutted through the corridors and toward her old room.

  Not that it’s your room anymore, is it, Rogue? Things can change in a heartbeat around here. I hope you like your new roommates.

  * * *

  Jennie met Baxter in the corridor, and he fell into step immediately.

  She was silent, and he didn’t need to ask why. Something had happened in there and considering that it was Daggro Jennie had been speaking to, he could throw a few guesses around and come pretty close to the mark.

  Jennie strode past agents without meeting their eyes, although many of them certainly took a good hard stare at the fabled Rogue. When her quarters came into view, she felt a strange relief that she couldn’t quite believe. Only a few days ago, this had been a temporary home for her, but now she felt like she was being ousted.

  And I’m fine with that. Wait until they see my new place. They’ll be laughing on the other side of their faces, then.

  She paused with her hand hovering over the thumb scanner, hearing voices inside. Jennie gritted her teeth and scanned herself in, and the door opened to reveal a cohort of agents sitting and talking in her living room.

  “Woohoo!” one of the agents cried with excitement. Jennie saw it was the jock whose finger she had dislocated. “They said to keep an eye out for our new roommate, but I never thought I’d be so lucky. Me and you together again, babe. It’s like fate. =This is the start of our love story.”

  The other agents grew quiet, yet the smiles stayed on their faces. Without a word, Jennie crossed the living room and entered her bedroom. Luckily for the new agents, they hadn’t touched her stuff. Jennie retrieved a small bag of trinkets that she had come to collect before heading back to Richmond.

  The agent grinned as she appeared in the living space again. They were now throwing around a football, taking turns catching it. Drinks bottles and litter were scattered over the coffee table. “You know you can’t fight it, babe. Me and you. Come on, give it a go, won’t you?”

  Jennie’s face hardened. “Wasn’t my last warning enough for you, kid?”

  The agent stuck out his tongue. “Foreplay, baby. It’s all foreplay. I like a woman who can take control.”

  Jennie turned to Baxter. None of the agents wore their SI glasses, so none of them could see the specter. She gave a subtle nod.

  Jennie folded her arms. “Believe me, one night with me would kill you.”

  The agent smirked. “I bet it’d be wor
th it.” His eyes shifted to the bedroom. “Come on. It’s right there. Why don’t you show me what you’re working with—”

  He cut off as his pants suddenly dropped to his ankles. To everyone’s surprise, the jock was wearing a greying pair of tighty-whiteys with a number of holes around the crotch. His eyes widened as he hurried to pull them back up. When he was standing once more, Baxter picked up a bottle of beer and poured it over his head.

  The agent’s face grew dark. “What the hell?”

  “What?” Jennie fluttered her eyelashes. “You asked me to show you what I’m working with. Here you go; I’m working with specters.” She crossed to the door and looked over her shoulder. “If you suggest I sleep with you again, I’ll make sure my specters haunt you every night until your dying day. Got it?”

  She didn’t wait for a response.

  * * *

  Baxter didn’t stop laughing until they were outside the room that had been assigned to Feng Mian. Jennie had heard that he was back from gossiping agents in the corridors discussing the capture of the elusive Dragon.

  “This’ll be a nice surprise for him.” Jennie grinned as she knocked on the door.

  It opened almost instantly, and Feng Mian gave a slight nod by way of a greeting.

  Such a laconic, Jennie thought as she hugged him and welcomed him back. “I hear you’ve been up to quite a lot. Single-handedly catching the Dragon, eh?”

  “Not single-handedly. We had a team,” Feng Mian corrected dryly.

  Jennie rolled her eyes. “I’m kidding. Damn, you still haven’t found that sense of humor you’ve been looking for so long.”

  Baxter laughed. The sound of pots clattering came from the other room.

  Jennie raised an eyebrow. “Someone else is here?”

  Feng Mian’s eyes lowered a fraction. Her curiosity piqued, Jennie moved to the kitchen where she found a petite woman wearing a red kimono readying a meal on the stove. A large wok was filled with noodles, veggies, and the smell that came off the food was tantalizing.

  Jennie smirked. “Hello.”

  “Nǐ hǎo,” the woman replied in Mandarin, looking abashedly back to her wok.

  Jennie waved Baxter over, and he joined her with an open mouth. They both turned back to Feng Mian and re-joined him on the couch. Jennie playfully punched his shoulder. “You dog!”

  Feng Mian simply stared back.

  “Look at you, I didn’t know you had it in you.” Jennie chuckled. “A specter and a mortal. It’s like an extreme version of Romeo and Juliet.”

  Baxter leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as an eager expression came over him. “You hitting that, Feng Mian? Are you?”

  Feng Mian sighed at the crudity. “No. I am not ‘hitting that.’ Jiao was a servant of the Dragon, and we rescued her from his clutches. I am providing a safe space for her to recover and rest from the dire situation she found herself in. To suggest that I am in some way taking advantage or romancing the poor woman is offensive to both myself and Jiao.”

  Jennie looked over the top of her glasses, scrutinizing Feng Mian as he spoke. “Hmm… I’m not convinced. But, fine. If you want to keep your secrets, then go ahead. We’ll not say another word about you and your lover.”

  Feng Mian gave a stern nod. Jiao appeared at the doorway, holding a plate out in front of her as though ready to present it to her master.

  Baxter winked. “She is cute, though.”

  Feng Mian waved Jiao inside and scooted over to allow her to sit nearby. She knelt in front of the coffee table and placed her dinner on top. She attacked it with chopsticks, not uttering a single word as Feng Mian filled Jennie and Baxter in on the situation with the Dragon.

  “He’s really back?” Jennie asked. “I could have sworn he died during the raid in the Dragon’s Den.”

  “So did many,” Feng Mian agreed. “However, intelligence reached the SIA of disturbances in New York City. Emblems with the dragon on were found at a number of raid sites and other situations, which when connected and pieced together created a picture of a deep-rooted underground criminal ring. The Dragon was sick, that much was clear from the beginning, although that didn’t slow down his operation at all. It was only after we saw his spirit exit his body that we were certain that this time he had died. According to Jiao, the Dragon often faked death to escape unwanted situations, and there were many who didn’t bother to check for the truth, wanting nothing more than for him to actually die in the first place. Lupe, Tanya, and I should have been more thorough. I can only apologize for us all.”

  Jennie shook her head. “Forget about it. You got him this time, and that’s all that matters. He’s in custody, and that’s the first step in unraveling the web that binds this all together. You’ve done well. We can’t ask for more than that.”

  Feng Mian looked longingly at Jiao’s food as she finished up the last pieces on her plate. When she was done, she silently took the plate into the kitchen. A moment later, they could hear the taps running and Jiao scrubbing the dishes.

  “She’s quiet, isn’t she?” Baxter commented.

  “She’s traumatized by the whole ordeal,” Feng Mian clarified. “She was promised a new life here, and the Dragon made her his latest plaything.”

  Jennie’s hand moved to her mouth. “That’s awful.”

  Feng Mian glanced toward the kitchen. “It could have been worse. In the days before his illness took over, he was agile and fit and would take advantage of his servants. By the time Jiao joined his ranks, he was too far gone. She planned her escape, and as fate would have it, we intervened and aided her efforts.”

  Jennie gave Jiao a sympathetic smile as she returned back into the room and knelt like a faithful dog beside Feng Mian. There was an awkward silence until Baxter broke it. “You’re a conduit?”

  The woman turned with glossy eyes. “I am.”

  “Is that why the Dragon kept you?” he asked.

  Jiao considered this a moment, her face surprisingly neutral. “I don’t know. Perhaps.”

  Baxter waited as if she was going to say more, but nothing else came. “Wow. You’re talkative.”

  Jennie glared at Bax. “Play nice. Jiao, you must have seen some things at the Dragon’s side. Why is it that the SIA hasn’t questioned you further? You must have been privy to all kinds of information.”

  Jiao gently shook her head. “I am afraid that is not true. I was called upon when needed and sent out when private matters arose.”

  “Besides,” Feng Mian continued, “The Dragon is in custody. They have a team interrogating him right now. They’ll get their answers eventually.”

  Jennie remembered her interrogation with the stooges from the Shadows from weeks ago. Daggro and Rhone had failed in getting any information from the man until Jennie had stepped in and taken charge.

  “Not likely,” she muttered. “One last question from me, Jiao. How deeply rooted is the Dragon’s grip on NYC? Is this something we should be concerning ourselves with? Or has the situation handled itself now?”

  Jiao reached for green tea in a china cup, her hands shaking ever so slightly. She took a sip, then answered. “The Dragon spreads deep. The golden beast is a virus that needs containing. I don’t know when, but something else will arise. Legacy is key in our culture, and the Dragon will live on.”

  Interesting, Jennie thought as she studied Jiao closely. Although there was no threat in her words, there was definitely fear. She knew something that she wasn’t letting on, but perhaps this wasn’t the best situation to try and extract the information from her.

  “I think I’d like to have a word with this Dragon,” Jennie announced.

  Baxter exchanged a look with Feng. “Are you sure that’s wise? We’re already treading on eggshells just being here at the moment. Do you really want to stir up the pot even more, especially with Rogers and Rhone gone?”

  Jennie nodded resolutely. “Bax, I’ve been stirring the pot and treading on eggshells since before you died. The only way to m
ake an omelet is to smash a few eggs, and we need to get to the yolk of it all.”

  Baxter grimaced. “Please stop.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Richmond, Virginia, USA

  Lupe stared open-mouthed at the mound of boxes in the entranceway. Stacks of cardboard boxes littered the space and created a hazardous environment to work around. Even the stairs, which had to be at least twelve-feet wide, had been narrowed to a mere sliver that those remaining at the manor had to navigate to get to the upper floors.

  Tanya watched Lupe with a smug expression on her face. “What’s the problem? Never put together flat-pack furniture before?”

  Lupe glared at Tanya. Sandra appeared at the doorway beside her, her gaze fixed on a brand-new Roomba that made its way around the house, collecting dust and dirt from the hardwood floor. She had taken a strange fascination to the device, and stumbled behind it like a zombie, a permanent amused smile on her sweet face.

  “I have,” Lupe growled. “Just not this many at once. I put together a TV stand in my old apartment in Brooklyn. Took me three hours. There’s enough stuff here to last a week.”

  Tanya laughed. “That’s why we have help. Where are the conduits?”

  Lupe nodded toward the end of the path where Ula, Triton, and Roman were helping a deliveryman unload the back of his truck. “Unloading the furniture. Couches, lamps, kitchen appliances, everything needed to finally make this house a home.”

  “What about the Nutribullet?” Tanya asked eagerly. “Is that coming today?”

  Lupe sighed and studied the boxes, looking for something small enough to contain the juicer. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

  Tanya nodded. Her stomach rumbled and she stared longingly in the direction of the kitchen. “I hope it is. It would be nice to have oven-cooked food. As much as living off fresh fruit, baked beans, and take-out has been delightful, my body is hungry for a proper meal.”