by May Sage
Gray blinked.
“While the building was on fire?”
Fire affected most creatures, except those which weren’t of this dimension; demons and angels, for example. Gray was particularly familiar with both races and he was one hundred percent certain Tria, Jason, and Daphne weren’t either of those.
The receptionist nodded. “They got everyone out. Some of us had burns, bad ones. It was pretty gruesome. But those three…they can do anything they want to.”
What she’d just revealed dragged him right back to square one: wondering what the hell those three ‘people’ were.
Then, for the first time he could recall, ever, the other Gray, that creature inside him, said something useful – if a little condescending.
Come on, it doesn’t take a genius to guess. They’re Scions.
Oh. Well, that made sense.
You think?
Emergency
Tria clock-watched until seven, before bidding her cousins goodbye and getting out of the office. She took the elevator up to the bright lobby, and went to the closest lavatory, waving at Sheila, the receptionist, who didn’t bat an eyelash; not when she went in, and not when she came out a minute later, without her mask or her glasses.
It took people time to get used to either appearance, but she’d known Sheila for long enough, now.
“Hey,” the cheerful receptionist called her, before she could get out the doors. “A little mouse told me you guys are going to go out soon.”
Tria should have been surprised that the woman had heard of it not even two days after she’d managed to get the trip authorized, but she wasn’t. Nothing happened in the building without Sheila knowing about it, or so it seemed.
“Maybe,” she smirked. “What is it to you?”
The question was entirely rhetorical, and Sheila was perfectly aware of it. She wanted to know because she had a humongous crush on Jason, like most women he met.
Sheila ignored her altogether, saying, “Let me tag along.”
Tria paused for a second. She liked Sheila, and, as a fully mature, highly trained witch, she was a worthy ally, but their trip wasn’t just any party. There was no doubt that Daphne would be pissed if she invited her.
But Jase might not be. Tria was pretty certain he welcomed her attention, although it was hard to tell, given the fact that, in front of strangers, he mostly communicated by raising his eyebrows.
“I’ll have to ask the others,” she replied.
Shay pouted.
“Daphne is going to say no,” she guessed.
Most probably. Tria shrugged, though.
“We work by majority. It only takes two votes to get a yes, so never say never.”
Strangely, the receptionist seemed even more defeated.
“Okay, I won’t get my hopes up then. Have a good evening, Tria.”
She shot her a smile before finally getting out of the Paranormal Investigation Agency’s headquarters. Passing through the automated doors and bursting out onto the streets of Boston felt like taking her very first breath after drowning, and Tria only spent about fifteen hours a day inside there. She could only imagine what it was like for her cousins, who practically never left. They had a penthouse suite, where they retired after the main floors closed. Every luxury had been given to them; every luxury, except the only one that mattered. Freedom.
It was pouring outside, and anyone with a bit of sense either hailed a cab or ran as quickly as their legs could carry them, umbrella in hand.
Tria walked at a leisurely pace, indifferent to the rain. Every stranger she passed looked at her, except the salesman in the closest newsstand; like Sheila, he was also used to her now.
They didn’t stare because she didn’t seem to mind the weather; they didn’t even really stare because she was the most exquisite female they’d ever laid eyes on, although she made women question their sexuality, and faithful men wish there was no ring on their finger. They stared because, while they’d never consciously acknowledge it, they were afraid. Their brains told them to keep an eye on her, just in case she got too close. She made them feel like a hoard of little mice, and she wasn’t even a cat. She was a tiger.
Daphne and Jase were as dangerous as her, but she was the only one who exuded that ‘otherness’; an unnatural, otherworldly feel clung to her skin. She couldn’t very well wear her mask outside; it would get her as much attention, if not more. At the head office, she wore it for two reasons. The first was that those who were weak of mind fell under a sort of spell, and it became seriously messy. Love letters, roses, fights for her favor. Like, seriously; some guys had actually brawled over her; never mind the fact that she hadn’t encouraged any of them.
The second was because there were a few in the building who knew how to ask the right questions. They wouldn’t ask if she’d had surgery done, where she got her hair styled, whether she wore contacts, or what skin products she used. They’d ask what realm she came from, and what powers she possessed.
When she wanted to avoid the looks outside, she wore a baseball cap and kept her eyes down. Recently, she’d done it less and less, tired of hiding. She was what she was, and she was getting to a point in her life where she didn’t actually give a damn about what anyone thought of it.
Tria didn’t live far, in case she ever needed to get to headquarters in an emergency. The elegant townhouse wasn’t too shabby, but she certainly could have chosen a nicer place. People earning her salary bought luxury apartments, on top of their vacation home in Bali; she rented the ground floor, underneath a crazy old cat lady’s place.
Speaking of. “Meow.”
Tria glared at the offending animal.
“I’m a dog person,” she told him, practically growling. “Go away.”
It wasn’t the first time she’d had that sort of conversation with the damn kitten, and probably wouldn’t be the last, yet every day, she found it in front of her door, brushing against her leg, and demanding to get in.
She would have loved to be able to blame Mrs. Gibbs, but she knew the kitten wasn’t part of her menagerie. An acquaintance had found him, along with his brothers and sisters, three weeks ago. He’d brought them to her, rather than a vet, because he’d known that they’d all been about to die. Tria had done what she could, and then they’d managed to give them all away.
All but this boy, who refused to go home with anyone else. He ran away as soon as she lined up a potential victim to foist him onto and somehow found his way back to her place. Tria reluctantly admired his deviousness. That didn’t mean that she’d cave, though. She didn’t want a damn cat.
Tria pushed her door with her palm, its wards and lock giving way without her having to reach for the keys in her purse, and before she could step in, the furball jumped forward, running to the kitchen.
She’d totally made a tactical error when she’d bought the damn thing a bowl.
“Is that you, Tria?” a frail voice called from upstairs.
“Hey, Mrs. Gibbs. You’re sure you don’t want another cat? You only have, like, twelve.”
“Thirteen, dear. And I’d take the little sweetheart in a heartbeat, if he wasn’t yours.”
Tria sighed. What was it with that animal?
Insulting the little devil all the way, she dropped a pouch of cat food in his bowl, before grabbing a beer from her fridge and dropping onto her sofa.
She’d just relaxed for half a second when the band on her wrist, that never activated, the one the Agency had asked her to wear at all times in case of emergency, flashed red.
Tria sighed. It was probably some sort of malfunction; someone had bumped the wrong control. She reluctantly got up from her sofa, and went to hunt down her phone, only to find half a dozen missed calls within the last thirty seconds. All had come from the Director. If that wasn’t telling enough, there also was a text, sent by Daphne.
The only thing she’d sent was a smiley face. Tria lifted a brow. It looked like the world was going to burn to the ground.
She shouldn’t miss this.
Attacked
“What do you mean, hot?” Ralph asked, eyes narrowed, stroking the scruff on his face. “Are we talking, ‘I’d bang that if I’ve had enough booze’, or nuclear hot, here?”
“You’re a pig. And do you seriously think we’d be having this conversation if she was behind curtain one? I’m telling you. Tria is hot.”
He hadn’t bared his soul and exposed his troubles to his partner; that wasn’t how men rolled. But if he didn’t talk to someone – anyone who wasn’t in his head, at least – he would have gone insane, so, in a somewhat misguided attempt to clear his mind, he’d told Ralph.
“Dude. I figured she was fugly under all that.”
He nodded his head, although, even if words like ‘fugly’ had been part of his vocabulary, he would never have thought anything of the sort. She’d captured his attention from the very beginning.
“So, after all that shit about keeping it in your pants at the office, you now plan on going horizontal with someone who works here?”
He shrugged. “She isn’t part of our department. But she’ll be a tough nut to crack.”
Tria was completely immune to the charm he used on everyone. He had no idea of where he stood with her at all; if she was attracted to him, she hid it well.
Ralph bobbed his head up and down like it all made sense to him.
“You’re used to easy, and it’s so much sweeter to have to work for it like the rest of us. I bet as soon as you get her, your interest will fade.”
He frowned. It wasn’t the worst reasoning he’d ever heard from the guy, but it didn’t sound accurate at all.
Because Ralph is an endearing, but idiotic, buffoon.
“No one asked you,” he snapped at the annoying voice. He only realized he’d said it out loud when Ralph chuckled.
“Alright, touchy. Just a theory. Anyway, go for it. I’ll pull out the popcorn and grab a camera, in case you make a fool of yourself.”
Gray rolled his eyes, when Remus, who’d been quietly lying down at his feet after a long run, got up, and tilted his head. A low, threatening growl came from his throat, and slowly, the painful shifting process Gray had witnessed a hundred times started. His soft gray and white fur became black as night and coated in fiery mist. He grew to the size of an enormous wolf, each paw as big as a man’s head.
Ralph and Gray both got to their feet. Remus was a spoiled, slightly lazy, playful pup with those he trusted, but one thing was certain: he’d never shifted without cause or prompting from Gray. Something was happening.
Confirming it, a loud siren blasted out of speakers on every floor, and their watches activated, displaying one code word: castle.
The headquarters was under siege.
It was close to eight o’clock, late in the day, so only five other agents were on the floor right now. At night, the headquarters were always emptier, because that was when demons came out to play, and agents were out on missions.
Ralph and Gray, like Brook, Dotty, Wyatt, Lorenzo, and Ivy, headed to the weapons stored at the back of the room, arming themselves before heading outdoors. The others rushed to the elevator, but Gray grabbed hold of Ralph’s shirt and tilted his head towards the stairs.
“We’re on the sixteenth floor, man,” his partner whined, following him.
Whatever was happening was probably downstairs.
Ralph didn’t seem overly alarmed; they did have the very occasional security drill, after all, but Remus wouldn’t have switched forms if there was no danger.
Gray should have had his head one hundred percent focused on the potential attack but, in that, he failed today. He couldn’t help thinking that they were, indeed, sixteen flights of stairs away from the action, while a certain trio just had to go one floor up to find themselves in the lobby.
Tria, Jase, and Daphne were much closer to whatever danger was looming.
They’re just fine. Concentrate, and we may get out of here alive.
Gray frowned. It was no surprise that the other dude was talking now; he was always prevalent when they were in crisis. Making sure Gray stayed alive was rather important to the parasite inside his brain. Still. The fact that he talked now meant that the situation was serious.
They’d reached the fourth floor when they heard the commotion; screams, coming from anyone left in accounting, planning, and admin. Ralph looked like he was about to jump in, but Gray held him back, shaking his head, all the while motioning Remus to sit. Now wasn’t the time to be a hero. This felt big, and they needed to be smart about it. There was a presence around him that unsettled him, something he couldn’t quite make his mind up about.
He held one finger up to his mouth in a shushing motion. Remaining in the stairwell, they stayed and listened.
“Floor cleared,” a woman said, once the screaming had stopped. “There’s nothing here, just some paperwork.”
“The Master may want the hard drives, especially if we can’t find the Trident here. The PIA has other bases, some of them secret.”
“I don’t know a thing about computers. Get Quinn up here, he can deal with it.”
So, it was a group; an organized group, after something specific.
How about telling them how to get to the vault? the parasite suggested. Maybe they’ll be on their merry way then.
Yeah, right, not happening.
“Right, next floor,” one of the intruders said cheerfully, as footsteps approached them.
Gray felt his heart beat faster, which was strange. It wasn’t often that he felt, in his bones, that he should hold back. That, should his presence be known, he’d be in deep shit.
It’s called survival instincts, the parasite mocked.
Would he just shut up? Gray wasn’t in any mood to joke right now, surrounded by enemies who had effortlessly killed an entire floor of agents – at the very least. That meant they’d managed to get past all the wards, and all the guards and agents downstairs. And Gray had nothing; no way to stop them, not even a way to get out of here. But, just as he cursed the blasted voice, it actually came up with something useful.
You really need to get better at paying attention to details. Here’s what I’ve got. Firstly, they’re immortals. Your mind is always going to pick up on it; everything else, everyone else on this planet, you see as easy pickings, because they’re easy to kill, unlike you. If they weren’t, you would already have jumped them, and you wouldn’t have pulled Ralph or our dog back.
Secondly, they’re young. They would have picked up on your presence, otherwise. Their focus is as good as yours; in short, completely shit.
Thirdly, they came by water; you can smell the sea on their clothes.
He could, now the voice had mentioned it. How it was supposed to be useful, he had no clue, but he stored the information at the back of his mind as the enemy trio got in the elevator. As soon as Gray heard the elevator’s doors close, he jumped into action, rushing out onto the floor.
Gray knelt before the first body he saw and felt for a pulse, although his instincts told him it was just a corpse now.
No dice. Rather than checking everyone else, he said, “They want the intel; we need to destroy the computers.”
“Roger that.”
They went to the closest water fountains and grabbed the bottles, pouring them on every computer in the room.
“Right, let’s go. They seemed to make their way upwards; we should be able to get out.”
“Wait a minute, are we just going to run? Shouldn’t we fight them, or something?”
How was he supposed to explain it?
“Ralph, see what they did here?” he pointed to the dozen corpses lying on the floor. “These weren’t field agents, but all of them were still well-trained sups. That was just three of them, and we don’t know how many infiltrated the building. I can’t tell you exactly what these guys are yet, but they make me uneasy. If we fight – the two of us, against, at the very least, four of them? We’re
dead. The best we can do is grab whoever is still breathing, get out of here, and head to a base. At least, until the Agency reaches out with new directives. We need to regroup.”
There was no shame in admitting that he wasn’t the biggest dick in the fight at the moment.
The Parasite
As they went down each floor, checking for survivors when they seemed empty, Gray wondered how he was going to say what he had to say. He knew Ralph was going to question his sanity, with good reason.
I think your instinct is perfectly understandable.
See? The parasite agreed. He must be off his rocker.
They found Dotty, Wyatt and Ivy on the second floor, all dead. Shit.
Finally, they arrived on the first floor. As soon as they got there, he felt a presence; the enemies had regrouped in the lobby. Now his plan seemed even more insane, but he was going to stick to it. He had to.
“Ralph?” he whispered from the stairway. “There’re some of them in the lobby. Three, four at least.”
“How can you tell?” his partner whispered back.
The lobby was too far for them to hear anything. Gray just shrugged, rather than explaining he could feel them, now he was paying attention to the details the parasite had mentioned. He felt their individual auras.
“I just can. We’re gonna stay here until the odds are looking better for us; one of them feels…” he thought about it, and settled on, “weird. Huge. We don’t want to face him, trust me.”
In fact, Gray had every intention of staying as far away as possible, because, if the parasite had been right earlier, there was every chance that the guy could feel their presence if they got too close.
Good, you’re starting to be smart. But don’t worry. I’m masking our presence.
Gray lifted a brow, surprised. It wasn’t like the parasite to do something without gloating about it.
“We’re gonna wait for an opportunity, then you’re going to take Remus with you, rush outdoors, and get as far away from Copley Square as you possibly can.”
