“That doesn’t tell me much, Travis.”
“It wasn’t easy.” Travis restrained his sleeping captive, making sure she wouldn’t slump before putting his hands on his knees. “The bitch gallivanted though Charm City in a muscle car and got a thrill crashing cop cars. Two of our own died. Why should we give her to Sanderson?” Travis jumped when Peters thrust something inside his empty holster. “Hey!”
“Because like it or not, we’re under orders. You’re lucky I got—”
Flickering gray auras captured Travis’ attention, and he pivoted in place to face the intruders.
Damn. Sanderson’s disagreeing with my idea. I hate this stupid tracking collar around my neck.
“Peters, we have company,” Travis warned, hoisting the limp shifter over his shoulder. “Three of them—”
Loud cursing filled the air, silenced by gunshots. High-pitched screams accompanied the gunfire, ending seconds later. Smoke trailed through the open doorway by the time Travis stood on his feet.
“Goddammit!” Peters swore, pulling out the Glock from his holster. “Mye can’t be that valuable to Sanderson! He can get another poisoner to—”
“Peters, shut up and do what I asked,” Travis ordered, securing the Desert Eagle in his free hand. The cool metal soothed him, in spite of the dull headache forming. “I’ll take care of Sanderson’s agents. If I’m lucky, I’ll still have Mye afterward.”
“Should let him fucking have her, Travis. No woman’s worth this much trouble.”
Travis pointed the Desert Eagle at Peters, forcing a deep breath. “No one deserves to be coerced into working for an organization, either. Now, get going.”
The agent wasted no time barreling through the door, coughing when he inhaled the harsh tear gas trailing down the hallway.
Lyssa, maybe those Renegades screwed up my moral compass, after all. I’m not much better.
Travis ignored the tightness in his stomach as he darted out of the room, holding the shifter’s legs with one arm. Smoke trailed around him, forcing Travis in the opposite direction. Halfway through the corridor, a faint, groggy voice moaned over his shoulder.
I didn’t think they’d resort to gassing the building! Travis thought, gasping for fresh air. Why does Sanderson want Mye so much? She lost her high-ranking position—
“Christ… you have the same luck I do, agent,” Aviere slurred, voice fluctuating from bouncing. Then she coughed and banged a fist on his shoulder. “Put me down.”
“Not now, Mye!” Travis snipped, gulping for air. “Jesus… hard to…”
She cleared her throat as he jumped over four unconscious bodies lying on the floor. “Run faster! There’s hired guns chasing us!”
The rogue mage coughed when they entered another corridor full of smoke, but passed through it a minute later. Cool, fresh air greeted them at their new destination. Each of them panted, inhaling quickly to clear their sinuses and burning throats.
Three flickering gray auras materialized through the walls, diverting Travis’ attention away from his surroundings.
They’re still coming. Everyone on this floor’s unconscious.
A single light blue aura bounced and shined, floating toward a higher layer. The mage probed and gasped, recognizing his partner’s high-strung energy.
Shit, at least Peters can run away from things. I guess some good came from field training.
“There’s three of them,” Aviere told him, hissing under her breath. “Smelly bastards, too. They’re up ahead, so put me down before they ambush us.”
Travis locked his cramping arm and legs, his hazel eyes hardening at the three figures wearing long, soot-black trench coats. He sized them up, centering on the sandy-haired male in the middle. “Chance, you slippery fuck. I said I can handle this.”
“We’ve waited for something like this,” the sandy-haired agent said, holding his arm back. “We’ll take good care of the Poisoner for you, Travis.”
Black metal flashed in the corner of Travis’ eye. He raised his free hand to aim, but winced when a boot connected with his shoulder.
“Damn it, Mye!” Travis yelled, dropping her to clutch his shoulder. “Think about what you’re doing!”
Quickly, Travis reached for the nimble shifter, growling when she sidestepped. He tried again, but she sprinted down the hall before he connected with her shoulder. Red tinted his vision, clouding his judgment.
One foot stepped toward the fleeing Poisoner, about to chase her once more.
Behind him, a gun clicked before a bullet sailed down the hallway after Aviere.
Fuck this, Travis told himself, removing the safety off his gun. Mye’s mine and I’m not letting these assholes interfere in my mission. I’ll answer for the growing body count later.
Another bullet fired, following the first.
Hazel eyes narrowed, darkening when Travis spun around and fired at the Renegade on his right-hand side. Warmth caressed his body when crimson dripped between the dead target’s eyes.
Travis smirked when the man landed backwards, aiming for the jet-black-haired male crouching on the ground. A sickening crack resonated in tandem with the second bullet Travis fired. Seconds later, the agent admired the neat bullet hole in the middle of the darker man’s forehead.
Clean shots, both of them… but I only have two bullets left. And where the fuck did Chance go?!
Loud hissing emitted from the corridor, followed by a shrill scream.
Mye!
Travis blinked before doubling back, biting his lip until he tasted blood. He held his breath, trying to ignore his burning lungs while chasing his target. He held his weapon with both hands as he coasted down the corridor, enjoying the pounding heartbeat and heady rush from killing his adversaries.
Another gray aura brightened near him. Hazel eyes gleamed and the dark smile finally matched his eyes.
There’s three. But it’s not Chance—damn!
Travis shot once through the smoke, letting the glowing aura guide him. He continued forward, satisfied his target died when the aura diminished seconds later. The dark smile shifted to a full-blown grin.
Mye, I’ve done too much for you to escape now. Once your usefulness ends, I’ll kill you myself. I’ve no forgiveness for criminals like you.
One more aura remained—the forest-green aura tinted with silver and darkness. It radiated as he followed Aviere to the stairwell. Snot leaked from his nose from the thicker smoke. Tears flowed down his face while he fought to recapture the Poisoner.
Footsteps clamored against concrete, echoing his pounding heartbeat in his ears.
Shit, she might escape! Crafty bitch!
Travis stopped, panting when Aviere tripped on a stair.
You’ve got to be kidding, Mye. You almost escaped, only to be outdone by a concrete staircase.
After a few labored breaths, Travis scooped her up under his arm from where she was trying to crawl up the stairs, snagged her glasses from where they had fallen, and stuffed them in his pocket. He lowered her to her feet, snatched her wrist and held her in a bear hug.
“Let—let me go,” she panted, coughing between every word.
Her pitiful pleas fell on deaf ears. Travis tightened his hold, squeezing his eyes shut to summon his power. Various sounds bounced his focus, but he quelled his growing bloodlust long enough to picture their next destination.
Try to picture the bloody conference room two floors up so you can get her shit, Keith. Get it right, this time.
“Stop, age—”
Travis covered her mouth before they disappeared, reveling in silence when the carnage of the interrogation room and choking smoke stopped assaulting his senses.
A high-pitched whining greeted Travis when they landed on solid ground. Cool, dank air eased the agent’s flushed face and sweaty forehead. He opened his eyes, wiping his nose with the back of his sleeve.
The dim-lit room soothed his pounding headache, save for the single flame flickering from the lantern on the desk.<
br />
I suppose it’s safe to let her go here. I ended up in the wrong goddamn spot again.
The whimpering, trembling shifter tried prying his arm away from her abdomen. Once he leaned against the wall, Travis released her, earning a yelp from the captured woman. He hummed, trying to soothe the headache while his limbs trembled.
I hope nothing happens now. God knows I’m exhausted and I’ve only known Mye for two hours.
Travis stopped humming when Aviere started blubbering to herself, teetering back and forth. He scratched his neck, wincing at her tinted-green face and glazed sapphire eyes.
Jesus, she’s a criminal—a ruthless killer. I shouldn’t feel sorry she’s sick, Lyssa. But…
Something jabbed his shoulder, and he groped behind him to flip the switch. Brightened light reawakened the dulling headache. Moaning, Travis squinted, trying to focus on Aviere’s blurry, wavering form.
I needed to teleport, Travis tried reassuring himself, rubbing his neck. It was the only way to secure Mye. Besides, I did nothing Peters can’t hide.
The agent wrestled with his inner guilt, rolling his shoulder when he spotted Aviere collapsed next to a dark, mahogany desk. Cautiously, Travis squinted again, trying to see one clear shape. Once a rectangular shape appeared, stacked on top by two others, Travis banged his fist against the wall.
The sudden movement jarred his sensitive headache.
He focused on the flame, wavering inside of a glass lantern.
Jesus, just my luck I ended up in Sanderson’s office. Fucking hell, nothing’s gone right at all today, sweetheart.
Heaviness settled in Travis’ chest, observing Aviere’s plight as he put his weapon away. Churning feelings in his stomach upgraded to full-blown nausea. He swallowed, trying to dispel the hard pulse in the back of his mouth and along his throat.
Once he settled, he met Aviere’s gaze, ready to commend her for surviving a teleportation spell without being ill. He parted his lips, but grimaced when she dropped to her knees, hugged a tiny white wastebasket, and heaved into their boss’ trash can.
Now I’ve seen it all, Lyssa, Travis conversed, despite knowing the conversation remained one sided. I thought she’d be fine. But apparently, she’s a racer who can’t handle a freaking teleportation spell. Great.
Bile stung his nose and Travis fought from gagging as he rushed to her side, holding her hair back with one hand.
On the bright side, I know how to keep the bitch from running now, sweetheart. But—aw, shit.
He almost gagged, but gleaming silver proved a capable distraction. Seconds later, objects focused and Travis spotted his quarry—a silver bracelet resting against Aviere’s bare skin. One clammy, free hand touched his throat, and he growled at the tiny LED screen with bright red numbers, counting down to an unknown timer.
Travis clutched the silver collar around his throat, calculating their timeline to days instead of hours.
Seven days. That’ll be impossible with this hellion. “Goddammit,” Aviere groaned in a hoarse voice. “I detest magic, agent. A little warning, next time.”
Travis started to apologize, but paused before he spoke his first word. Instead, he cleared his throat. “You tried escaping, Mye. You lost that right—and we got ambushed, if you recall.”
“Damn, you mages are a tricky lot,” she retorted, clearing her throat. “But you’re not the first mage I’ve encountered.”
“Tell me you handled the agent chasing you, Mye,” Travis said, letting out a shuddering sigh when she trembled.
“Y—” A loud belch interrupted her statement. “God, that’s gross.”
“Ugh.” He covered his nose, releasing her stringy chestnut hair. “Your breath, woman.”
“Anyway, to answer your question… yes, I did. Cracked the bastard’s skull against the wall.” The Poisoner lifted her bare arm, curling her upper lip to bare a pointy canine. “I wasn’t fast enough to stop him from tagging me with this stupid bracelet, though.”
I’ll be damned, Lyssa. Maybe she won’t be so useless after all.
“I tried preventing that,” Travis whispered, wiping sweat off her face with his long sleeve. “No one deserves—”
“You have a skewed moral compass, agent. But if you work for the Renegades, it’s expected.” She held up her restrained wrists, using her thumb to flick the bracelet back and forth. “Figures I’d get a top-of-the-line bracelet. Probably bugged the son of a bitch, too. Christ, I want to inspect it, but can’t do a thing when I’m in handcuffs, you know.”
He scouted the room once more, reaching in his pocket for the key to release her handcuffs. From the corner of his eye, Travis caught Aviere trying to turn the silver bracelet with little success.
I’m hoping Mye doesn’t start with the asinine questions, he thought when she frowned. Most ask the dumbest shit.
“Your boss must be desperate to plant moles in the feds and ask me here. Everything else almost makes sense, except for you.” Sapphire eyes twinkled in delight. “The Renegades hate mages more than humans, yet you’re here. Why, I wonder.”
“Blackmail, Mye. Almost like you.” Travis spat on the floor. “Wrong place. Wrong time. All there is to it.”
A black and gray aura flickered through the wooden door. Travis tensed at the familiar energy, pursing his lips tightly when he reached for his gun.
“Shit, we need to get back before—”
“Great.” He didn’t miss the sarcastic undertone in her voice. “Sanderson assigned me to a coward.”
“A coward wouldn’t fight to get out of this godforsaken organization.”
“Humans and their foolish dreams.” Aviere’s lithe, clammy hands caressed his collar after standing next to him. “It’s how they get you, Travis. No one escapes.”
“Move,” Travis said, aiming at the door.
“Wait, wait. I take it back. I know one who retired. The others I know are scattered around somewhere.”
“Don’t you have any reservations about this, Mye?” Travis parted his legs and locked them in place, ready when the door opened. “Because I’m not thrilled about working alongside a criminal who blatantly disregards the law.”
“Yes.” Commanding eyes bored into the agent, mere inches from his face. “That’s why I’m requesting another partner. You attract too much attention, and I’ll kill Agent Neuro the next time I lay eyes on him.”
“Peters, Mye,” Travis interjected, voice rumbling as he waved a hand against her hot, putrid breath. “Look, I worked with the precinct before transferring to the FBI.”
“Oh, that’s obvious. You may be a good shot, but you’re not a real agent yet, Travis.” She hissed when the handcuffs restricted simple movement, preventing her from reaching her glasses in his pocket. “I watched you back there… how you turn cold when you kill. Quick and precise, almost like a shifter.”
“Don’t compare me to—”
The door slammed against the wall and Travis fired at the intruder, a tight smile on his lips when his last two bullets when through the wooden door.
Chapter Four
Aviere gritted her teeth, cursing the blurry man at the doorway for interrupting her attempt to escape her restraints and retrieve her glasses. She identified warped pieces of broken wood when the door shattered against the stone wall. The shifter squinted before sniffing the air, greeted with sharp notes of spices and mint.
Lowell Sanderson, she thought, hissing before baring her canines. The asshole still reeks of spearmint, clove, and a touch of apple vinegar. But why’s he hiring a rogue mage in the first place? It’s not like him at all.
“Travis, lower the damn gun and take the handcuffs off,” she dictated, stepping in front of the agent. “And I can’t see without my glasses.”
“Can’t you wait until—”
She maneuvered her restrained hands inside his large coat pocket until she held the silver-rimmed glasses and a tiny key.
“Jesus Christ, woman,” Travis complained, lowering the gun. “Can�
�t you wait until… stop going through my pockets, bitch!”
“Now.”
Aviere yelped when Travis jerked one wrist toward him, taking the absconded key. Seconds later, a click warned her before the handcuffs released. “You’re a piece of work, Mye. We could have gotten shot at, but you had to bitch about—”
Mirthful laughter echoed through the room as Aviere finished putting on her glasses. Lowell Sanderson’s burly, tanned form strode across the room and he straightened his indigo tie, pausing a few steps away from them. “Aviere Mye, I see you haven’t changed.” He brushed a hand against the matching blazer and alabaster shirt. “You still demand everything as if the world owes you something.”
Aviere rested a hand on her hip, adjusting her glasses until Sanderson displayed through the half-dirty lenses. “Hello to you too, Lowell. It’s been a while since I saw your ugly mug.”
“You know Sanderson, Mye?”
Christ, here it comes, Aviere thought, sighing in trepidation. I don’t want to play twenty questions with the stupid agent.
“Mye, answer me, or—”
“Let’s just say we have a unique history, Travis.” Aviere cracked her wrists before shaking her hands. “Besides, I just told you I have other contacts here. I shouldn’t have to explain everything to you.”
“God’s sake, woman.” Metal clanked as Travis placed the handcuffs in his pocket. “You know more than I do about the Renegades, and I’ve worked for Sanderson three years.”
“Aviere’s quite knowledgeable, despite trying to keep secrets from her.” Sanderson’s upper lip rose in disdain. “Perceptive little hellcat, she is. I picked the right partner for you, Keith.”
Aviere sharply turned her head to Sanderson, brunette hair tickling her shoulders. “I don’t like you, Lowell. Stop insinuating I’ll work with your conniving ass.”
Sanderson chuckled darkly, pulling his shoulder length jet-black hair into a ponytail. “Aviere, why are you so angry? You wanted your answers and a way into the Underground, didn’t you?”
She slanted her body sideways between the two men, studying Travis’ skeptical look from the corner of her eye. “Not like—Goddammit, Lowell!!”
Turbulence: Book One in The Renegades Saga Page 4
