by A. Blythe
Flynn gave me a mournful look. “You know what I’m doing here. She said the wedding is off.”
I folded my arms. I had to nip this in the bud. “What was the wait list like for this caterer?”
Flynn pressed his hands against the sides of his head, ready to explode. “Something ridiculous, but the caterer’s daughter goes to Tessa’s yoga class and snagged us a spot.”
“Do the math, Flynn. No way is Tessa giving up her spot on the list.”
He frowned and dropped his hands to his sides. “She’s not?”
“Nope. And if you don’t haul your ass over there, she’s going to make all the menu choices without your input. How would you feel if she served strawberry shortcake for dessert?”
He scowled. “I hate strawberry shortcake.”
“I know you do. So shift to mist and get your butt over to the caterer stat.”
“What if she doesn’t want to see me?”
I groaned in exasperation. “Flynn, she loves you. Trust me, she’s still planning this wedding. Make a grand gesture and show her you’re committed.”
“What if she kicks me out in front of the caterer?” He shook his head. “No, I’m not going. She doesn’t want me there.”
Dear gods. This was not going to be easy.
“Get over there now,” I said firmly.
“There’s no point.”
I couldn’t physically overpower him so I chose the next best thing. I pulled out my Glock and pressed the end of the barrel against his forehead. “Go to the caterer right now or your gorgeous head will pay the iron price.”
His expression didn’t change. “Do it. What’s the point of living anyway?”
“Flynn, as much as I want to physically drag you there, I can’t. Please go.”
Flynn paused. “Will you come with me?”
I laughed. “Are you insane? I’m the last person Tessa wants at her catering appointment.” She’d probably throw a filet mignon at my head, or worse.
“You’re in the wedding party,” Flynn argued.
“The wedding party doesn’t decide whether you serve chicken or beef. You do.”
“Can’t we have both?”
I groaned again. “Flynn, go. Be the groom. Show your future wife what kind of husband you’re going to be. A dedicated, loyal husband who shows up when he’s supposed to and doesn’t volunteer to infiltrate a secret agency for the sake of his ex-girlfriend.”
Flynn nodded vigorously. “You’re right. I can do this.”
I patted him on the back. “Yes, you can.”
“You’re cool if I leave then?”
“Very cool.” Please go.
“Thanks, Alyse. I know I haven’t always been the most trustworthy person in your life…”
I held up a hand. “Water under the Ben Franklin Bridge.”
“What about the Betsy Ross?”
I blew out a breath. “Does it matter which bridge? Now go before I change my mind about shooting you.”
He shifted to mist and disappeared from view. Tessa could thank me later. Hell, who was I kidding? Tessa blamed me for everything. She’d only thank me for dropping dead.
I turned my attention back to the New Horizons file. I didn’t have too much time to plan and I wanted tonight’s reconnaissance mission to go without a hitch. It wasn’t likely, of course, but a girl could dream.
12
The New Horizons office was located in Northeast Philadelphia. Oscar agreed to let me take a small team—just Farah, Mix, and me—and put a cloaking spell on the Prius. There was no point in bringing an army for reconnaissance. Not to mention I was worried that some overzealous supernatural would simply burn the place down. We needed to be smarter than that. In fact, we needed to be smarter than a building full of scientists.
"Do you really think they’re building some kind of weapon to use against us?" Mix asked. He was, as always, an essential part of the team, helping us with any security features we encountered along the way.
“The odds are good, unfortunately,” I said. "I can't think of many uses for the Sight gas that would be viewed as a positive for our kind, can you?"
Mix lowered his head. "I guess not."
"Where do you think they're getting the money for this?" Farah asked. "It must be costing them a mint and they’re a nonprofit."
Farah's point was one I had been grappling with since the discovery. Someone either hated supernaturals and wanted to get rid of them through the pure hatred of other humans or someone wanted to make sure that supernaturals never gained more power than what they already possessed. At this point, either one was a viable option.
We pulled up in front of the building a few minutes after midnight. Other than basic security lights, there was no sign of life. I hoped Barbie's intel was good. She seemed to think that the night shift was barebones. As far as New Horizons was concerned, no one knew what they were cooking up, so there was no threat.
"I'll check things out first," Mix said. "I'll signal when the coast is clear."
“And when the doors are open," Farah added. "Don't make me walk up there and stand in the chilly night air if you’re not ready."
I stifled a laugh. "When did you become so precious?"
Farah rubbed her bare arms. "What? It's chilly when the sun goes down."
We watched from the car as Mix approached the front door. I felt a rise of excitement. It was like I was back on a Shadow Elite mission, minus my powers of course. Although Pinky and I had been working odd jobs together, it wasn't the same as a covert operation. For one thing, I was always introducing myself to people. With my real name. That simply didn't happen as an undercover agent.
"I think he's in," Farah said.
"Let's give him a minute," I said. "Make sure there's no one waiting on the other side of the door."
Farah glanced at me.
"What?" I asked.
"I was just thinking about Flynn's wedding." Farah tapped her fingers against the steering wheel. "About that…Don't you think you should speak to Tessa? Try and get her to see sense?"
My eyes popped. "When did that become my responsibility? Tessa and Flynn are grown-ups." I paused. "Well, one of them is a grown-up. They should handle it themselves. I'm not in their relationship."
Farah sighed. "You are, though, whether you want to be or not. Tessa blames you and, if the relationship falls apart, Flynn will eventually blame you too."
"But that's not fair," I said. "I didn't ask Flynn to obsess over me. That was all him."
Farah patted my thigh. "Be that as it may, you are in each other's lives and there are consequences. I'm not saying it's your fault, but I think it would be a nice gesture if you made an effort on Flynn's behalf to set things right."
I sighed. "If you must know, I was instrumental in getting Flynn to show up for the appointment with the caterer. He was convinced Tessa cancelled it.”
Farah nodded her approval. “Good for you.”
“Just for the record, I'm not a fan of this adulting, you know."
"Me neither."
Mix emerged from the building, waving his arms wildly.
I looked at Farah. "That's his idea of a signal?"
She shrugged. “You know Mix. He's old school."
Farah and I vacated the car and met Mix at the front door.
"All clear," he said.
I peered over his shoulder. "No guards?" Even with a barebones security system, I would have expected at least one guard.
"I scanned the whole building in tiger form," he said. "I didn’t pick up any fresh scents.”
"How's the access?” I asked. "Are we going to be able to get into all of the rooms?"
Mix motioned us forward and we walked through the lobby. "The offices are easy. The only room I may have trouble with is the lab, but I think I can do it. It just might take longer."
That made sense.
Farah craned her neck to admire the high ceilings. "What did this used to be? It wasn't designed for scientists."
She was right. The building resembled an old warehouse but with the most up-to-date interior finishes. The inside reeked of money. I half expected to see a gold toilet seat in the bathroom.
"I thought scientists were more focused on the science than the fixtures and fittings," Farah said. "Although I have to say, I do like their taste."
We walked down a stretch of hallway until we reached the corner office. The plaque on the door said Dr. Joseph Frankenheimer.
"Here's our guy," I said. "According to Barbie, he’s the one spearheading this whole operation. If there are important documents, we’re going to find them in here."
Farah scooted through the open doorway. "I'll take document review. You two see if you can get inside the lab."
“Are you sure you want to read documents?” I queried. “That doesn’t sound like you.”
“I like beakers of unknown chemicals even less,” Farah said.
“Fair enough.” Mix and I continued down the hall until we reached a huge metal door. It was easily seven feet tall by ten feet wide.
"They may as well have a flashing neon sign that says Important Secret Shit Happens In Here," I said.
Mix examined the keypad beside the door. "It looks pretty standard," he said. "Give me a few minutes."
Noise from the direction of the lobby caught my attention. "Mix, I don't think we have a few minutes." It seemed that whatever guard was meant to be on night duty had now decided to show up for work.
Mix’s fingers began frantically working the keypad. I examined the metal doorframe. It was completely secure. These guys seemed to know that a djinni could easily shift into mist and breach any barrier that wasn't airtight.
"I can shift into an ox and try to break it down," Mix suggested.
I shook my head. "The whole point of this mission is for information. We don't want them to know that we were even here." Which was going to present a problem if we had to fight off a guard.
"Get Farah," Mix said. "If anyone can distract a guard from his duties, it's her."
I scurried back to Frankenheimer's office, where Farah was elbow-deep in folders.
"We have company," I told her. "I need a wily Hinn on the scene."
Farah saluted me. “One wily Hinn reporting for duty, ma’am.” She adjusted her top and flipped her red hair over her shoulder.
“I need him alive and ignorant about our investigation,” I said. I couldn’t risk anyone tipping off New Horizons that we were onto them. If nothing else, it could endanger Barbie. It was brave of her to come forward and I didn’t want her to regret that decision.
As I turned to head back to the lab, I glanced at the files on the desk and saw one labeled ‘local occurrences.’ Quickly, I flipped through to see newspaper articles printed from online. I immediately recognized these occurrences, mostly because I was involved in them. They were local incidents involving supernatural creatures that had been covered up by the PTF and PAN. A psychotic mage that blasted people from a building rooftop was covered by the media as something far more benign. New Horizons seemed to be keeping tabs on the supernatural happenings in Philadelphia. In each article, the number of casualties was highlighted with a green pen.
Not keeping tabs. Keeping score.
“Alyse,” Farah’s voice cut through the silence. I dropped the files and ran to the lobby. Farah was on the floor, straddling a burly guard. His gun was across the room by the foot of a glass coffee table.
“He knew I was a djinni,” Farah said. “He has the Sight.”
Of course he did. Everyone who worked for New Horizons was probably ‘blessed’ with the Sight now. Anything to further their cause.
I strolled over to the guard and placed the heel of my shoe on his groin. Gently. “Hi there. What’s your name?”
“Gary,” he said, his eyes wide with fear. “You don’t have an aura. Are you human?”
“For all intents and purposes, yes.” I blew out a breath. “But that isn’t important right now. Do you have a family, Gary?”
He nodded, unable to speak. I realized it was because Farah was sitting on his chest and probably restricting the airflow. I gestured for her to slide back a little.
“Then he might like it,” she complained.
“I’m too scared to like anything right now,” he gasped.
I pressed my foot down further on his groin. “Yep. He’s telling the truth.”
Farah wiggled back a little and Gary inhaled loudly.
“Wife,” he panted. “Two boys.”
“Do they have the Sight, too?” I asked.
He tried to shake his head, but couldn’t move enough. “No.”
“So my friend here could head over to your house and shift right under the front door, couldn’t she?”
“Yes,” he choked out.
“She’s very strong, isn’t she?” I asked.
Farah squeezed her thighs and he stifled a cry.
“Here’s what we need from you, Gary,” I said. “My friend is going to let you up and then you’re going to come with us to Frankenheimer’s office and sit in the chair while we gather the information we need.”
He jerked his chin in a show of understanding and I motioned for Farah to get up. We frogmarched him down the hall to Frankenheimer’s office and pushed him into the chair.
“Can you conjure some heavy duty rope?” I asked Farah. While she couldn’t manage weapons like I used to do, she was good for small, basic items.
Farah summoned a thick rope and began tying him to the chair with expert precision. “He’s still going to talk,” she said. “The whole point is that no one can know we were here.”
I continued rifling through the folders. “I’m thinking.”
“I won’t tell,” Gary said. “I swear.”
Sure thing, Gary. And there’s probably a bridge you want to sell me, too.
“He wouldn’t be the first person you’ve killed to preserve a mission,” Farah said.
Ouch. I hoped my wince wasn’t visible. I didn’t want Gary to see that it actually bothered me. Better for him to think I’d slice his neck open without a second thought.
I handed Farah a few documents. “Copy these while I check in at the lab.”
Farah glanced at the papers. “Now I’m a secretary?”
“You’re my right hand,” I corrected her. “And I need my right hand to make copies. We can’t take anything original or they’ll notice.”
“Right.” Farah set to work and I returned to Mix in the lab.
The cavernous room was stark white with five long, metal tables in a neat row. There were beakers and bowls and even a walk-in freezer. Mix stood at the far end of the room, examining papers on a clipboard at the end of the table.
“You definitely want to see this,” he said, waving me over.
I peered over his shoulder. At the top was a list of chemicals and then schematics for the item Barbie described that resembled a grenade, except this item was full of noxious gasses that gave humans the Sight.
“It changes a person’s brain chemistry,” Mix explained. “Opens that Third Eye right up.”
“I didn’t think that was possible,” I said.
“Neither did I.” He continued reading. “Uh oh.”
“What?” I looked more closely at the diagrams and my stomach twisted. “They’re designing one with wider range.”
“It’s more efficient,” Mix said. “They can keep detonating single Sight grenades in places like The Night Owl, but for bigger places it would take a lot of grenades and manpower.”
I sucked in a breath. “But if they can make the grenade bigger and the range wider…”
Mix’s expression darkened. “Like I said—more efficient.”
This was bad news. Very bad news.
“Can we tell how far along they are with the plans?” I asked.
Mix surveyed the state of the table. “I can’t tell. See if the guard knows anything.”
I doubted Gary would be much help, espe
cially if he tended to be on night duty. “I’ll give it a whirl. You look around more in here. I’d like to know what’s in that huge freezer.” Somehow I didn’t think it was a year’s supply of prime rib.
I headed back to Gary. He was exactly as I’d left him. Farah, on the other hand, was having a little too much fun with the copier.
“Someone has to clean that, you know,” I said.
She hopped down and gathered the copies into a neat pile.
“What do you know about the work that goes on here?” I asked Gary.
“Not much,” Gary said. “Lots of scientific stuff.”
“Do you understand how you got the Sight?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Not really. They had a meeting in the lab and told us we had to be subjects in an experiment if we wanted to keep our jobs.”
“Did anyone opt out?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Jobs are too hard to come by these days. I get a good paycheck here, plus health insurance.”
I understood the desire for employer-sponsored health insurance. I was fortunate enough to still possess healing properties in my blood and access to the best healer in the colony. Once I was back to full djinni status, I wouldn’t even need that.
“What happened during the experiment?” I asked.
“They took us through the steps,” Gary said. “They’d release a chemical into the air, like a gas. We’d breathe it in and it would change something in our brains so that we could see things we couldn’t see before. Dr. Frankenheimer called it poking the veil.”
“Piercing the veil,” I corrected him.
“That’s it,” he said.
“How did you know it worked?” I asked.
Gary closed his eyes. “They had…specimens.”
Specimens? What did that mean?
“The Ghuls still haunt my dreams,” he said softly. “They came straight out of the freezer. So angry.”
Oh boy.
He lifted his gaze to meet mine. “I’m glad you’re not one of those.”
“Me too,” I said. “If it’s any consolation, I hate Ghuls.”
“Did anyone freak out?” Farah asked. “A sudden onset of the Sight could really screw with a person’s mind.”
