A moment later, the bomb exploded.
* * *
Julia stared at the screen, trying to make her eyes focus. The images and text were blurred, and she struggled to take in the information she was searching for.
She lay on the couch in the manor’s brand-new library. Shelves had been installed along all of the walls, reaching from floor to ceiling, but only a handful of books accommodated the space. Julia hoped that Jennie would invest in enough books to fill this entire room, and then some. This could be her sanctuary, a place to while away the days and learn everything she ever wanted to know about specters.
For now, all she had to rely on was the tablet.
“Burning the midnight oil?” Tanya asked, appearing in the doorway.
Julia gave a weak grin, her head beginning to pound. “Something like that.”
Tanya glanced around the bookshelves, taking it all in. “Not bad, huh? Well, maybe one day it will be filled. I’ve yet to ship over my library from New York. Throughout my time serving as the Spirit Mother, I managed to attain quite a collection of books and passages on specterdom.”
“You were always a believer?” Julia sat up straighter, her bones groaning from the exertion.
“I was,” Tanya continued. “Somehow, I always knew that something was out there, beyond the realms of mortal understanding. I’d spend days thinking that someone was standing just outside of the boundaries of my peripheral vision, only to find them gone when I turned to see. Graveyards would speak to me, and after a while, people started to learn my name,” she scoffed. “I used to think I was an expert in all of this stuff.”
“Then you experienced their world for yourself?” Julia murmured, reflecting on her own past.
Tanya took a seat across from Julia. The women looked worlds apart, Tanya with her flaming red hair and delicate contours of her cheeks, Julia with her hair as dark as night and an air of weariness that only came with age.
Tanya looked deep into her eyes. “I’m jealous of you, you know.”
Julia looked surprised. “Oh? I can’t imagine why you would ever waste your time with that.”
“You’ve lived through it,” Tanya explained. “You’ve fought on the frontlines and powered specters under your control. You’ve been able to contribute to a greater purpose and get your hands dirty…” She trailed away.
“You want to control specters?” Julia laughed. “I didn’t have you pegged for a bad guy.”
“I don’t mean like that,” Tanya clarified. “I mean, all I’ve managed to do is cause more trouble for Jennie. Without Sandra, I am powerless. All I have left are these books that I’ve abandoned. You know I haven’t read a book in months? I used to read all the time. It was my life to dive into pages and learn the truths of the world.”
Julia gave a knowing nod. “You’ve got time now, haven’t you?”
Tanya considered this. “You don’t mind me joining you?”
“Not at all,” Julia replied. “We can compare notes.” She tapped her chin. “Only, I do have three conditions.”
Tanya smirked.
“One,” Julia pressed on, “You wait for me while I fetch one of Hendrick’s energy potions.”
“Done,” Tanya replied.
“Two, you get a move on and get those books over from NYC. If you like, I’ll bring my collection over, too. We can start to stock this bibliotheque ourselves.”
“And three?” Tanya asked.
“Three…” The humor left Julia’s face, knowing that what she was about to ask would be a tall order, and she wasn’t sure she’d earned the right yet. “Number three. I want to know what it’s like to turn spectral. I want Sandra to show me.”
Tanya pondered this for a moment. Her face straightened. Julia wondered if she’d pressed too far.
“Deal,” Tanya replied at last. “Sort number one out, and I’ll deal with number three.”
Julia jumped up with renewed vigor in her step and ran to Hendrick’s lab.
Chapter Fifty-One
New York City, New York, USA, (one week earlier)
Zhao stared at Jiao, his eyes narrowed with the pain of carrying his mortal body. “United they stand, divided they fall.”
He had grown more obese as the weeks and months had worn on. His internal organs had begun to falter. Lately, he hadn’t been able to take a simple breath without the death rattle coming from his throat.
He was a sweaty mess, his naked torso covered with a shimmering coat of liquid. Small trails pooled in the folds of his fat before trickling down, a salty water feature that eventually soaked into his pants.
Jiao’s heart beat faster. For months she had waited for this moment, and now that it had come, she was ready for it. Ready to carry the torch and take on the next stage of the Dragon’s work.
Zhao wheezed and spluttered into the ring of his fist. “They are coming. My spies have spotted them out in the city, gathering their intel and sniffing out our trail. Soon they will burst through that door, and your time will come. Are you sure that you’re prepared?”
Jiao said nothing, only nodded.
“I have moved the pieces into place,” Zhao continued. “This plan is to be my magnum opus. I will buy you all the time that I can allow you in order to give you the greatest chance of success possible. Immortality lies in the name of the Dragon, I am old. Weak. Unable to carry the flame any longer. You must ensure that the legacy continues. Do you understand?”
Jiao nodded, her lips a thin white line on her face. She had heard the plan a dozen times. As each of Zhao’s henchmen knocked on the door and brought their reports on the whereabouts of those seeking Zhao, she had replayed it all over again in her mind. Zhao had spared no details, concocting his master plan out loud, asking for Jiao’s input, and ensuring that she knew every single step as it came.
There were contingency plans baked in, alternatives for every eventuality. Even in the eventuality that he was exorcized, he had rolled the dice and found an answer.
“Do you think that likely?” Jiao asked. She knew enough about specters to understand their existence and how to rid them from the world, but even she doubted that anything could take down Zhao once he had begun his eternity as a ghost.
Zhao tried to adjust himself on his makeshift throne, the same place he made his bed and filled his bedpan. The same location Jiao had doted on him hand and foot, a faithful companion in his dying days, earning his trust as his successor.
Zhao coughed. “They have another. She is powerful. You must watch her closely. She may be the only one able to unravel our operation.”
Zhao had preceded to tell Jiao all about the one they called Rogue. Though he had never met her personally, he had gathered enough intel from the faithful specters who roamed his castle, high up in the apartment building in Chinatown. Her name had spread like a chilly mist, seeping into the marrow of his bones, and he knew that he needed to be ready for her.
“I know not what gifts death will grant me,” Zhao continued. “Yet I pray for a power that can help me execute our plan. Something that could challenge Rogue and bring her to her knees. Imagine it, the former-Dragon reaping the glory of being the one who removed the fabled Rogue.”
“Very impressive,” Jiao offered dryly.
Zhao choked with his whooping cough, and Jiao offered water. Somewhere far below them, gunfire rang out.
“They’re coming,” Zhao muttered. His eyes met Jiao’s. “Are you ready?”
The truth was that Jiao had been ready for weeks. While silent in the company of her master, behind closed doors she had assembled her own task force, set forth her own spies. At the first mention of Rogue, who was known among her peers as Jennie, she had set out to discover as much as she could about her future opponent.
Layers of Jennie’s past were cloaked in secrecy, but she had managed to pry information from specters in New York, and even some contacts abroad. While taking a nightly stroll through the city—something that Zhao had forbidden her from doing, but
what he didn’t know when he slept wouldn’t hurt him—she had encountered a specter with slick-backed hair and a Tommy gun clutched tightly in his hands.
They had conversed, the specter happily detailing everything he knew about Rogue. She had been the reason that he was scouring the city, looking for the bitch so he may exact his revenge.
A chance meeting with a lot of potential. Jiao had brought Rico back to the apartment and introduced him to Zhao. Zhao had informed him of his plan to unite the Seven and bade him follow Ruben to Washington, knowing that he would likely be the one who got cold feet when it came to action. Not only that, but Zhao had heard rumor of an agency within Washington who were aiding Rogue and her comrades. Only a few weeks ago, social media footage had exposed the existence of a task force in Alexandria that had managed to suppress the amount of information leaked from an explosion at a former candy factory.
“This is bigger than we know.” Zhao gasped, taking the water from Jiao and wetting his lips. “It will be a turbulent ride. Are you ready for your role?”
Jiao knelt before Zhao and kissed his feet. “Anything for you, my Dragon.”
Zhao’s lips peeled into a broad smile. His teeth were stained pink and yellow. “Good girl. Carry the mantle, but don’t let them in on your true identity until it’s time.”
“I will serve the gold and red until my heart stills,” Jiao replied, eyes locked on the floor, head bowed. When she raised them again, she took her place beside Zhao and waited.
The gunfire was increasing. People moved outside of their door. She bit her lip, unsure if that fluttering inside of her stomach was nervousness or excitement at what was to come.
She was ready to play the role she was given. She had been born for this. Trained and molded by the Dragon. No matter what happened next, she would play her part to the letter, discover the truth behind Rogue and her operation, and put herself in the greatest position possible to revolt the uprising and claim what was hers.
Her people would know her name. The US would know her name. Her long-lost ancestors would look down at her from the heavens and applaud her from the stars. A whole dynasty of infamy and glory coursed through her veins, and now it was time to act.
Richmond, Virginia, USA, (present day)
The community center had been abandoned over a decade ago. A large, red brick building on the edge of the city, the center was surrounded by an acre of overgrown foliage. A crooked mesh fence circled the perimeter, with plenty of holes cut into its side where kids and thugs had broken inside to leave their mark on the old building.
The building was basic. There was a large hall at the center of its fixtures, with a few smaller rooms leading off from broken doors that clung to their hinges. A large turret-like appendage poked out of the roof like a determined weed, and it was from here that Jiao looked out over the city.
The turret was a bell tower. The bell was rusty but large enough to hide her in its shadows. From up here, she could see a one-mile radius of the building. The suburbs of the city were spread out before her, oblivious to the Dragon in their midst. Richmond was not the ideal location for her to build her army, but it was good enough to hide their trail.
Her gown fluttered in the wind, a silk thing in shades of royal crimson. The edges of her gown were golden, and there was a large ornamental dragon stitched onto the left breast and trailing down toward her hip.
“I’ve waited so long to don the cloak of my people,” Jiao muttered to the breeze. “To stand with my back straightened and stare upon the land that will soon be mine. One can only play the fool for so long before the real fools grow suspicious.”
She smirked, her lips a vibrant red. She had masked herself in makeup, dolled herself into the queen that she would soon become. With an army at her side, she could rule these lands, and bring back the power of her forebears. A true dynasty that would carry indefinitely throughout time. Immortality belonged to the unforgettable.
Her reign would be larger than any of her predecessors since they’d migrated to the United States. Her face would be on currency, her name known to all across the land. If she played this right, then nothing would stand in her way. Mortals and specters would work under her command, and the great glories of the past would make their claim in the present day.
The past could rise again. She had living proof in the building below her. The possessed the Dreadnought had taken were standing in the hall, accommodating half of the space already. Like statues, they waited for a command, their eyes blank, their ears open.
Rathbourne was a wellspring of power. Each possession cost a tiny part of his entity, yet he had much to give. The woman he had taken as his primary host lay in the tomb they had pillaged from the quarry, the lid askew as they rested. He had been impressed by Jiao’s display of power, and that had bought her his attention.
The rings glittered on her fingers, catching the rays of the dying sun. Heirlooms from her ancestors, pretty things whose potential had never been realized. For years her family had tracked the legacy of the Dragon, wormed its way into the system, and finally, she was sitting next to the throne, painfully close to her true position.
There was just one thing that stood in her way.
She stood at the bell tower, hands laced behind her back, and watched the sun set. Night fell, and yet she waited. When midnight neared, a faint boom told her of Madame Celestine’s work.
Rogue knew the truth about her now, that much was clear. Though how much she truly knew was still a mystery. Still, buried deep beneath the packed earth of the outskirts of Richmond, she would be less likely to harm her operation. Maybe all Jiao had bought herself was time as she and Rathbourne laid their foundations, but at least it was progress.
Life was all about progress.
Chapter Fifty-Two
Richmond, Virginia, USA
The last of the falling rocks settled. Dust filled the air and filtered into Jennie’s mouth. She brought her top to cover her face and used the white fabric as a filter.
The lights were gone, Jack, Ruby, and Triton’s cell phones had been dropped in the scuffle, and they had no idea where they were. Around her, Jennie could sense the others. She could count the specters easily enough, her powers were designed for such an event, but it was the mortals she was concerned about.
“Roman? Triton?” Someone moved beside her. She patted her hands along the ground and touched a woman’s chest.
“Jennie?” Ruby called out to her.
Jennie withdrew her hands. “Sorry.”
“Do you really think now’s the time to reveal your true feelings for me?” Ruby quipped before spitting out a mouthful of debris. “Honestly, romance can wait.”
Jennie laughed weakly. People moved around her.
Triton’s voice came from somewhere in the dark. “Jennie? Is that you?”
“Over here,” Jennie replied. She helped Ruby to her feet and kept her close. “Hold onto my shoulder. Don’t let go. We’ll find everyone first.”
Triton was about twenty feet away, standing with his back to the tunnel wall. The dark was all-encompassing. This deep underground, and with no access to natural light, it was like swimming through oil. Each step was considered and careful. Occasionally a boulder would block their way and they’d have to navigate around it.
Jennie’s hand touched flesh.
“Ouch,” Triton complained. “You should think about trimming your nails before you jab your fingers in the dark.”
Jennie smiled. “Shut up and grab Ruby’s shoulder. We’re doing the Conga out of here.”
Ruby started to hum the tune. She was stopped when Triton promptly replied with, “No.”
Soon enough, they collected Ashton and Jack. Rhone was harder to find until Triton managed to fish out his IR glasses. The man showed up as a red flare in the dark, lying on the ground. Jennie and Triton worked to remove the debris that had fallen onto his stomach. He coughed out dust and spat on the floor. Jennie was almost certain that one of his ribs was br
oken.
“Shit,” she muttered. “How did we not see this coming?”
“Because why would anyone do this?” Ruby replied. “Come on, who traps people in a mine? In the movies, they just straight-up shoot their enemy, not bury them underground.” As if suddenly hearing her own words, her voice raised. “Oh, my God. We’re buried under here, aren’t we? We’re going to die in here!”
Her voice echoed around the tunnel. Dust and loose rocks rained down on them. Jennie pulled them away from where it sounded like the cave-in was the worst. When it finally died down, she hissed, “No shouting. The integrity of the tunnel has already been compromised. If you don’t want to die in here, then I suggest you shut up and don’t disturb the tunnel anymore.” She paused, thankful that the others couldn’t see the contortions of her face.
“Hold on.” Triton tapped Jennie’s shoulder. “Have we picked up Roman?”
Jennie performed a roll call, listing everyone who had come into the tunnel with them. When she reached Roman, there was no response.
Jack sighed. “We probably passed him, thinking he was a boulder.”
“Here.” Triton took the IR glasses from Jennie and led them back the way they had come—although it was impossible to tell—where they found a faint flicker of red in the distance.
They increased their pace but found that the devastation was worse here. Rocks barred their passage, and it became clear that the reason they could see so little of Roman was because all the boulders were blocking the view.
Triton reached him and found that he was unconscious. Without being able to see him properly, there was no way to diagnose the issue.
“We need a light,” Triton whispered. “Anything.” He turned back to Roman. “Hey, buddy. Wake up, we need to get your ass out of there.”
Jennie patted her various pockets and pouches. “Can I borrow someone’s gun?”
Agents, Agreements and Aggravations: In Her Paranormal Majesty’s Secret Service™ Book Three Page 40
