Turbulence: Book One in The Renegades Saga

by E. M. Whittaker

  Aviere's cloudy mind seemed like molasses as she considered her options. When words wouldn’t form, Aviere slashed a hand over her throat, acknowledging Travis when he stopped reaching for his weapon.

  Neuro’s been through the ringer. Christ, I didn’t picture Mr. Personality in a grungy t-shirt and stained blue jeans. I know Peters was on lockdown, but—

  “I preferred a clean killing, but eliminating you and Travis will solve my issues.”

  Aviere laughed and licked dry lips, slowly twirling a strand of unwashed brunette hair. “There’s so many, Agent Neuro. Are you referring to your personality or the trust issues between Travis and yourself?”

  She beamed when Peters’ eyes enlarged with shock. “I never discussed those.”

  “It’s obvious.” Aviere waved her hand to Travis. “You and Travis are like oil and water. I’m surprised you’re out of hiding, considering you’re an information grunt. Killing’s not in your resume, Agent Neuro.”

  She foresaw a long-winded explanation, not hardened eyes casting a vehement glare. “I made an exception.”

  Shit, Neuro’s serious. Those deadened eyes—so vengeful, like Travis. Better think fast before Peters ices you, Vi.

  The Poisoner’s face flushed before rubbing an eye. “Travis, talk some sense into Neuro.”

  “Keith, the shifter’s the reason we're reassigned.” The warbled voice brought out the tinge of body odor masked through the spicy cologne. “I’m not growing into a double agent and working with a homicidal bitch. Covering for you was different. Least I could justify your actions, considering our history.”

  Aviere pinched her lips and blinked sleepy eyes. The agent’s banter added to the impeding drowsiness.

  Shit, no wonder people despise them. Not Travis’ fault, but Neuro’s a piece of work.

  “Neuro, I get you both have issues, but stop bickering like a married couple.” Aviere's body felt sluggish as she flexed a wrist. “Besides, if this continues, you’ll alert the paparazzi, Peters. Don’t complicate matters because you’re whining about life knocking you on your ass.”

  “Shifter—”

  “You're at home, while I'm chasing Vinny. I’m not even at home and haven’t been eating healthy. I’ve worn the same clothes for two days and my favorite pants are stained with blood. Not to mention, you’ve picked up a cushioned job working for the goddamn government. Even if you screw up, they’ll give you severance to control you, Peters.”

  “You got me reassigned to a branch I don’t belong.”

  Incredulous, Aviere slammed a palm over her chest. “I have no influence over Sanderson or the FBI, Peters. You’re just a self-righteous prick. Christ, you can't even admit when you made mistakes.”

  “I didn't!” Peters insisted. “I wouldn't be associated with Sanderson—”

  “Maybe not,” Aviere agreed. “But what respectable man tries offing an unarmed woman?”

  “It’s the only way to get rid of you.”

  “Only a coward attacks a woman when she’s down, Neuro.”

  Aviere steeled herself and straightened when the revolver fired, missing her shoulder by an inch. She spotted the way Peters’ hands tremored when he aimed and each shot missed her. Two were several inches apart, one progressed through the wall next to her right shoulder and another skimmed by her head.

  Instead of fear, Aviere donned her mask and glared into Peters' blazing eyes.

  One more bullet. Peters may land a mark, but he’s shooting on emotion. Worst mistake, especially for law enforcement.

  “I almost warned you against shooting, but I suppose you’ll learn the hard way, Peters. You’ll understand what I’ve put Travis through this week. Maybe you’ll appreciate it when you bitch about house arrest.”

  Rancorous yelling echoed through the corridor. Aviere picked up certain tones and snickered, pointing at Travis to open the door. Their eyes met and Travis’ hazel eyes narrowed as she lowered her glasses.

  “Mye, Peters—”

  “There’s consequences to every action, Travis. Now, open the door before Joseph’s boys think you’re involved.”

  “Peters might murder them,” Travis warned. “He’s been locked inside his house and missed his appointments. Don’t think he got his scripts filled, either.”

  Well, it explains Neuro’s commando attitude, Aviere thought, rubbing her cold nose. I’m lucky I’m used to my husband’s volatile mood swings. Still, Gunther never tried—shit!

  Aviere jumped when warm metal pressed into her forehead.

  Goosebumps rose and a frosty chill heightened the knot in her stomach. She tried summoning anger, but morphine dulled anxious emotions and energy. Gathering her last reserves, Aviere’s cerulean eyes softened after identifying turbulent emotions in Peters’ crazed eyes.

  “I never guessed I’d identify with you, Neuro. But pull the trigger if you’re serious about killing me.”

  The door creaked, and Aviere’s commanding eyes settled on Peters’ hesitant expression. After a few seconds, the agent turned toward the door and moved the revolver to Aviere’s nose.

  As Peters spoke, Aviere's claws sunk into Peters’ wrist and forearm.

  Loud protests sounded from the door, but Aviere wrestled the gun from Peters’ grip, counting the seconds until her claws pumped paralysis poison. A malicious grin crossed her lips as she recalled the mutated blood and elevated poison levels.

  As Peters’ grip weakened, and the handgun clanked to the floor, Travis kicked it and pulled Peters into a cushioned chair next to her bed. Aviere huffed when Peters’ body slumped into the chair.

  Then she gazed at the dirty blonde surfer boy glowering by Travis’ side.

  “Leonard, go get Raymond and Joseph. I know Agent Neuro’s human, but he’s like Gunther without medication. Being on lockdown didn't help Neuro's psychiatric treatment.”

  She didn’t miss Leonard’s eyes squint at the bullets buried in the wall. “He tried killing you, Aviere. Let me gut the human's throat.”

  The Poisoner stared in Peters’ hateful brown eyes and released a shaky sigh. Various emotions flashed through the agents’ eyes and Aviere’s belly fluttered with butterflies. She cleared her throat and recalled various disputes about mental stability with Gunther.

  It’s the same symptoms. Once Peters is medicated, he’ll be better. Prickish and insufferable, but it’s better than stooping to his level.

  Another round of drowsiness washed over Aviere as she yawned. “Leonard, slaughtering a mentally unstable agent isn’t any better. For all Neuro’s quirks, he’s a cunning shit. The guy’s brilliant at hacking and recovering information. Like it or not, I need Agent Neuro’s assistance to capture Vinny McSeeten.”

  “Aviere, you’re out of your goddamn mind,” Leo said. “Maurice is right—you’ll get yourself killed.”

  “I handled Peters fine, Leonard.”

  “Aviere, Alpha wouldn’t—”

  “Then get Joseph!” she spat, casting a stiff finger at Travis. “But murdering Peters will dampen my working relationship, and Travis is the one keeping me alive. I won’t stop Joseph or Jemina if they determine other punishments. I’d handle Neuro myself, but my poison’s elevated.”

  Aviere caught Travis growling from the doorway. “What?!”

  “The wonderful paralysis agent you suffered when we first met, Travis.” The Poisoner stared at her bloody claws. “You got a moderate dose, but Neuro’s got a double dose because my medicine’s not working.”

  “So, you'd let Wolfman and Rodriguez attack Shawn when he's paralyzed?!”

  Aviere bared her upper lip as Leonard stormed from the chamber. A growl escaped her throat before caressing her tender thigh. She peered at Travis as he stormed to her bed, smacking the makeshift nightstand of plastic containers.

  She glared from lowered glasses before scoffing, eyes plastered to Peters’ struggling frame, discarded plastic containers and the bottled water rolling across the floor.

  “Hand me the bottled water an
d close the door, Travis.”

  Aviere waited until Travis stood against the exit before sipping her bottled water. After the bottle emptied, cerulean eyes rested on Peters’ nasty scowl.

  “Now, gentleman—before we move any further, I’m going to speak. You’re going to listen. Any interruptions and they’ll be unpleasant surprises, understand?”

  “You talk big with no lackeys,” Peters retorted.

  “Leonard’s a colleague,” Aviere corrected. “But I stopped you alone, and I’ll continue every time you piss me off. The next time you hold a weapon to my skull, you better pull the trigger, because you won’t get a third chance.”

  “Oh, I assure you—I’ll slay you, shifter.”

  Aviere snickered, yawning as she adjusted the mechanical bed. “I look forward to it, Shawn Peters. In fact, I wish you luck. Maybe you’ll surprise me.”

  “Mye, Sanderson won’t condone you and Peters fighting,” Travis said.

  “It’s hard to establish a partnership with a prick who likes executing defenseless women,” Aviere admitted. “Peters will struggle for a bit. Besides, if Lowell Sanderson hasn’t murdered me, I’m sure Peters’ tantrums are a cakewalk. If I still ran Central Baltimore, Peters would be executed. A donna deserves respect, even if they’re criticizing someone.”

  A loud snort came from Travis. “Defenseless? You jest, Mye.”

  Three knocks signaled at the door and Aviere gazed at Travis.

  “That’s Joseph. Let him inside and take Peters with you, Travis. Once he’s sensible and properly medicated, we’ll organize our next move. Make sure Peters is unarmed when you return.”

  As Travis lifted Peters’ limp body over his shoulder, Aviere lowered her spectacles, scrutinizing Peters’ deadened expression. She saw Joe’s patronizing stare, but disclosed nothing as Travis left without a word.

  Only when they were alone did Joe speak, and Aviere flinched at his condescending tone.

  “Gunther would’ve ripped their heads off, Aviere.”

  Aviere nodded and reached for a necklace no longer there. “I know.”

  “You were lenient on them.”

  “Travis wasn’t involved, Joseph.”

  “Peters should’ve been put down like a rabid dog.”

  “I saw Gunther in him.” Aviere’s shoulders rolled close as she rested clammy palms against warm elbows. Her voice dipped to a flattened monotone before biting her lip. “We’re all flawed, Joseph. The words Peters spoke, the mannerisms—the crazed eyes—my saving grace was he’s human.”

  “It’s Travis’ place to cover you when you’re powerless.”

  She lifted her head, dropping the mournful look from her eyes. “No. I’m a liability to Travis. I shouldn’t have drawn my claws, but they slipped.”

  “If you were a liability, you’d be dead.”

  “Perhaps. But then, one can argue my tribe's protected me too long. I have to hold my own if I’m working for Lowell Sanderson.”

  “The drugs loosened you up.”

  “Joseph, quit bitching and keep me company. Hell, bring Jemina with you, I don’t care. We can watch trashy TV and make fun of those women seeking paternity tests or something.”

  Joe retrieved a black cased iPad lying by the bed. “Put on a streaming station and we’ll check out a series, instead. I’ll deal with a chick flick or those teen supernatural dramas—even that teenage wizard would work. But I’ll eat those vegan candy bars if I have to listen to one more episode about cheating husbands and ‘who’s my daddy’ tests.”

  “Deal.”

  Aviere’s smirk grew as she surfed through the iPad’s applications, tapping the green and white worded streaming service. When Joe exited the room, Aviere giggled, considering an anime series to watch. Each show portrayed sadness in its thumbnail and Aviere’s cheery mood evaporated, taken over by somberness instead.

  The next time Aviere met Shawn Peters, she’d establish ground rules and make sure the human understood his place.

  The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur as Aviere conducted business from her hospital suite.

  She argued with Raymond, who was resolute about transporting her to another ward within the intensive care unit. Her friends tried scolding her, despite watching one of her favorite animes. The door opened countless times until Jemina propped the chair underneath the doorknob. Then Aviere glowered at the iPad while Jemina complained once again.

  The only pleasurable company Aviere received was Limere’s, who rested in silence while she continued surfing through the online streaming program.

  After Joe and Jemina left and offered their support, Limere pounded a fist to his chest and cleared his throat. From the corner of her eye, Aviere glimpsed the olive bottle Limere shook.

  “You owe me, Sis. I traveled to New York City for half the ingredients. I hate dealing with New Yorkers—make Baltimoreans look like saints.”

  Aviere chuckled and wiped sweaty palms, jittering a foot underneath the blanket. “Yeah, can’t blame you.”

  “The crazy agent—can’t remember his name—”

  “Neu—Peters,” she corrected, smacking a fist against her injured thigh. Seconds later, Aviere winced before whimpering in agony. “God, I love my name better, Lim.”

  “Sis, you’re getting bad about hating humans.”

  Reddened fingers reached for the bottle. “Peters is a prick. The guy tried shooting me in interrogation. Then he forced a fucking gun to my forehead. I have good reason to detest Agent Neuro.”

  “Well, Peters' story checked out. He’s supposed to be on mood stabilizers and medication for PTSD. Because Sanderson’s had him on lockdown, Peters never made it to his appointments this week. Matter of fact, his psychiatrist works on the same floor as Raymond.”

  “Doesn’t justify Peters’ actions,” Aviere argued. “Gunther never tried shooting us, Limere. The most Gunther did was throw objects and smash furniture. Christ, I stopped counting how many doors I replaced at the apartment and at his mother’s place.”

  “I did some digging, but I think agent man’s coming to guard you.”

  “Limere, I don’t want to know Shawn Peters. The first chance I get, I’m finding the right poison to eliminate Neuro.”

  “Aviere—”

  “I don’t think you understand, Limere.” Aviere pointed to the middle of her forehead, then gestured to the five bullet holes embedded in the wall. “Peters shot every bullet before thrusting the barrel against my skull. Another few seconds and Peters would’ve shot us.”

  “Sis, you can’t murder humans.” Limere placed the bottle inside Aviere’s waiting palm. “I read the human’s mind. Shifters trigger his PTSD. If I remember right, both agents had a loved one mutilated by a shifter.”

  Plaster gave way when the doorknob jammed through the wall. “Dalara, instead of stealing information, let me explain Peters’ behavior to Mye.”

  Aviere glanced at Travis when the aftershave became insufferable, saturated with rage. Hazel eyes swirled with varied emotions before flickering flat. Seconds later, they conflicted, conveying melancholy at Limere’s remarks.

  Travis… no wonder you deserted your precious Feds and precinct. Almost like me, except there’s no hope of getting Lyssa back.

  She propped the elixir next to her leg and patted Limere’s shoulder. “Go on, Lim. Travis and I are overdue for a meeting.”

  “And what if Travis loses his goddamn mind like Peters, Aviere?”

  “Then Travis will kill himself,” Aviere stated, never leaving Travis’ gaze. “But unlike Peters, Travis remains cautious.” She beckoned Travis closer and sneered when Peters stumbled inside the ward. “Christ, you don’t learn when to quit, Peters.”

  Aviere winced when Limere’s bony hand clutched her shoulder. “I’m not leaving, Sis.”

  “I can’t tell Maurice to shift as a cat, Limere. He’s still in recovery and won’t answer the phone,” Aviere murmured, remembering Maurice’s scathing texts sent through the course of the afternoon. �
��I’m sure Peters is reasonable now.”

  “Aviere, you know Gun—”

  “I’m tired of hearing how Gunther would handle this!” She almost crushed the elixir against the floor, but clasped it before losing control. “I’m not my goddamn husband! I’m not a vindictive, spiteful bitch hellbent on destroying everyone I meet!”

  Peters scoffed from the doorway and spit on the floor. “Could’ve fooled me, bitch. I couldn’t move for two hours and had convulsions. Your doctor’s pissed, by the way.”

  Aviere’s face brightened before snarling at Peters. Then she thumbed to the bullet holes behind her. “You struck first. Raymond understands self defense. I’m aware my poison yields mixed results, depending on who I strike. It’s been a topic of argument in Raymond’s research. And before you bitch to Sanderson, he’ll agree with me. I’m confident these collars have recording devices installed inside them.”

  “Doesn’t mean I won’t file a grievance, Aviere Mye.”

  A devious smile danced on Aviere's lips. “You’re welcome to, Agent Neuro. I’ll remind Sanderson how risky it is to give an unstable man firearms and petition for permanent inpatient care. You’re lucky I told Raymond I wasn’t pressing charges.”

  “You know Travis is the only reason you’re even alive, Mye.” Peters adopted a defensive stance and crossed his arms. “Travis thought—”

  “I’m aware Travis wanted me assassinated.” Cerulean eyes rested on the trench coated agent before patting Limere’s shoulder. “But Travis understands the consequences. I don’t order my group to defend me—they do willingly. All except Jemina. God knows she’d sell me out for money. Almost did for fifty grand.”

  Aviere sighed when Limere stroked her arm and hissed when a needle pierced her bicep. “Limere!”

  “Serum, Sis. Doc said he didn’t want to screw anything up with the IV and sedatives. There’s an antibiotic inside, so make this meeting brief, all right?”

  She nodded, drowsiness sapping thought from her witty mind.

  “Right. I’ll be outside. Probably see Reese—try to patch things between you two. If I hear bullets, the human’s getting disintegrated.”