Rogue Ops: Rogue Agents of Magic™ Book 1

by Cameron, TR

  The man making her coffee drink dutifully asked, “Why do you say that?”

  The gossip replied, “I saw him stomping through his yard, kind of waving his arms and muttering. He wore a t-shirt and no coat, which was crazy, given how cold it was. Bandages wrapped his right arm from the wrist up to the elbow. I don’t know what he could’ve done to hurt himself that much, but I’m sure it couldn’t have been fun.” Her tone changed from remembrance to anticipation. “Anyway, the neighbor is still in the hospital, but I imagine he’s going to be upset when he gets out. Didn’t press charges, though, which is weird.”

  The conversation turned to other matters, but the woman’s words bounced around her mind. Each time they rebounded from one of her mental walls, her level of concern rose that much higher. The woman left before Diana got her drinks, but she wasn’t in a rush anymore. She’d gotten all she needed from the stranger and a lot more than she wanted.

  She walked outside and handed Rath his hot chocolate, and they both sipped from their paper cups while Max lapped up his whipped cream. The troll asked, “Get anything?”

  She replied, “Too much. I’ll tell you when we’re closer to home.”

  Once Max was done, they set out for home, Diana awkwardly juggling the two bags of groceries while trying not to spill her coffee. When she was sure they were alone, she said, “Okay, here’s what I heard.” She shared the information he hadn’t been present for. When she finished, she lowered her voice. “Bandaged arm. You know what that could mean.”

  Rath’s tone was uncommonly solemn. “An artifact?”

  Diana nodded. “That’s what I think. It would explain the personality change, possibly. Especially since it went in a violent direction when the person had no history of it.”

  “We’re going to check it out.” It was a statement, not a question.

  “Yeah, we are. As carefully as possible. Fortunately, tonight’s supposed to be cloudy, so there won’t be much moonlight. I guess it’s time to test out those wings, buddy.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The ascent to a good launch point had been a difficult one. The highest spot in the area was the top of the church steeple. The climb had been slow going because of the snow that had collected on the roof and the ice that coated the spire. Still, Rath was a determined troll and made it up there safely.

  He wore layers of shirts and thin jackets, the winter one he’d been using too bulky for his harness. It was cold, the wind up here biting into his flesh and ruffling his hair, which probably had ice crystals in it by now. Rath laughed. “I’m a trollcicle.”

  Diana, who had a matching cell phone with an open call to his, replied, “Be careful. Remember, you don’t have your grapnel.”

  There were a lot of things Rath didn’t have. He didn’t have his safety device, he didn’t have his best knives, he didn’t have the new, better version of his wings, and he didn’t have a guarantee that these would open, even though they’d done so on his ground-level tests. He did have his batons and an older version of Gwen in the goggles that had been with his backup gear. He’d agreed with Diana’s concern that the new version in his glasses might not be as well-suited for this adventure.

  He set his feet on the side of the steeple and gripped the base of the pole atop it with both hands. “Gwen, mark the house, please.” They’d programmed the address in before he started his climb. An area in his display glowed. He shifted his position to get the best angle toward it. “Okay, got it. Air currents, please.”

  A visual map of the local airflow appeared. It was less complete and detailed than he was used to because the goggles only had their sensors to work with. Normally, they would be able to access the base computers, which had a connection to all sorts of things, including weather radar. Still, it was enough that he could see where he could avoid losing altitude more rapidly than other spots. “Okay. Troll flight one, good to go.”

  Diana chuckled, and he pictured her shaking her head. He liked making her laugh and considered it a life goal to do it as often as possible. She said, “Remember, one pass over for recon, then land safely. If it looks clean, I’ll be nearby by the time you’re ready to go in. If it doesn’t, we meet up at the rendezvous point.”

  “Affirmative, yep, you got it, totally tubular. Banzai.” He launched himself from the spire, slapping the button on his chest where the harness straps met to extend his wings. They snapped out exactly as intended and caught the air, turning his fall into a glide. He banked slightly to stay on course. “Magnify, please.” The image in his goggles grew larger, and he trained them on the house with the man who was acting strangely.

  A path overlaid his vision, and he followed it, automatically curving and dipping where Gwen told him to, the act of flying with the AI familiar enough that he didn’t have to concentrate on it nearly as much as he had in the beginning. “Lights on the second floor. Seems to be shades. I can’t see inside. No lights on the first floor.” He frowned at a sound that had come from somewhere. “Gwen, increase audio, please.”

  The speakers pointed at his ears grew louder, and he heard yelling and the sound of crashing. When he turned his head, and the goggles’ microphones swiveled away from the house, the sounds lessened. When he moved it back, they increased. “Sounds like he’s breaking furniture or something.”

  Diana growled, “More evidence that it might be an artifact. Dammit. Do you see anything worth calling this off over?”

  He gave the whole area another once over and replied, “Nope.”

  “Okay. Put down, and I’ll meet you at the back of the house in ten minutes.” A timer appeared in the corner of his vision, counting down.

  “Got it. Troll flight one, heading in for a landing.”

  Rath descended in a wide spiral and touched down a block away in a kids’ playground. He retracted the wings and ran for the house, wanting to get there before Diana did as one more point in his favor in their ongoing competition. He’d lost several board games after the movie marathon, so he needed to pick up some points.

  The fact that Diana wasn’t aware reaching the house first was a way to earn them didn’t matter at all. He’d tell her once she arrived. After me, of course.

  * * *

  Diana stayed close to the house to avoid their target seeing her from the second-story windows, presumably where he was. Her glasses had picked out Rath’s heat signature, and she watched him cross the space from the tree he was hiding behind to her position in a low crouch. Upon arrival, he whispered, “I was here first. Point to me.”

  Diana sighed. He was forever inventing competitions she knew nothing about. “Fair enough. We ready?”

  He drew his batons from their sheaths. They’d had no way to recharge them fully. Hank and Anik had been able to get his induction gloves out of the armory, but the battery pack hadn’t come along. Diana had managed to rig a charger, so each baton had about one charge worth of stun capability.

  She’d carried a document tube over her shoulder, and now she set it down, pulling a sheathed Fury out of it. A pistol rested under her coat, but using it would be problematic since silencers weren’t part of their tactical gear. Her boots held throwing knives and stilettos.

  She was deeply uncomfortable with the current situation. Finding an artifact in their figurative backyard seemed coincidental, but for all she knew, an enemy could be tracking them. She believed the Remembrance, the gang they’d put out of business in Pittsburgh, was truly gone since she’d dispatched its leadership. Really, who knows? There could be more, and they might be involved in what’s going on. I doubt it. She felt her mind starting to go in circles. I need to quit being so paranoid.

  Diana used telekinesis to unlock the back door, and they walked into a small mudroom. The floor creaked underneath them, and she pointed at it. Rath nodded and took the lead, moving a few feet in front of her. They cleared the first level, walking through a small kitchen, dining room, and living room. Space was at a premium on the Cape, so the houses tended to be on
the modest side. She expected the upstairs would be one bedroom and a bathroom, or at most two rooms.

  They reached the bottom of the stairs, and she reviewed them carefully, looking for traps as her glasses flicked through detection modes. The heat sensing function displayed a figure on the top floor, stomping around and making the boards creak, which was likely why their passage had gone unnoticed despite the old hardwood. Rath climbed the staircase slowly at a gesture from her. She followed a step behind, holding Fury by the scabbard in her left hand with the hilt facing slightly upward, ready for a draw. She hoped not to have to cut the man’s arm off and prayed she wouldn’t have to kill him.

  The top of the stairs ended with a turn and an open door. The man walked past as they reached it, and he screamed at the sight of Rath. It wasn’t fear. It was unbridled fury. The troll dashed forward under his grasping arms, clearing the way for Diana to gain the upper level. She threw a bolt of force at the man, but tentacles erupted out of his arm, weaving themselves into a shield to intercept her magical attack.

  With a frustrated sigh, she jerked the sheath forward and caught Fury as it slid out. She dropped the sheath and rushed ahead, swinging at the tentacles. The man moved quicker than she would’ve thought possible given his bulk, dodging strikes from Rath’s baton.

  The tendrils seemed to be fighting separately from him, and they darted faster than any she’d ever seen, trying to rip Fury from her grasp as she swiped and slashed at them. Several snuck in at her feet, and she dragged the point along the wooden floor, separating them from their source as they wrapped around her ankles.

  The man howled, a crazed sound, almost inhuman. I wonder if this is what it looks like when an artifact takes over completely. Terrifying.

  She threw more force blasts, knocking the tentacles out of the way as they sought her neck, and snapped out a line of force to snag one that was going for Rath. The troll snuck in a blow, striking the man in the leg. His stun baton snapped loudly, and their foe’s body went momentarily rigid. The tentacles, though, weren’t affected, and they whipped out at Diana and forced her to put most of her effort into defense.

  The fight was loud, and she didn’t want the neighbors or local police to get involved. She murmured the command word to activate the shield charm in her bracelet. The tiny metal piece burned away, but the tentacles could no longer reach her. She ran forward and slammed into the crazed man, who was now literally frothing at the mouth, and knocked him off balance. Rath’s other baton stabbed him in the chest, and this time their opponent went down.

  Diana quickly searched the man’s broken dresser, finding clothes to use to tie him up. She and Rath bound his body from ankle to neck in pieces of clothing. She had no idea what the tentacles might be capable of once he regained consciousness, but she was fairly sure they wouldn’t be able to untie knots. Hopefully. She looked at Rath. “We’d better find some rope.”

  The troll nodded. “Thinking the same thing.” They found some in the kitchen and used it to bind him further until Diana felt they’d done all they could. Her partner asked, “Now what?”

  She sighed. “Well, we can’t take him with us, so we need to have someone come get him.”

  “Not local police.”

  Diana shook her head. “No.” She pulled out her prepaid phone and dialed the number she’d gotten from Ruby in Magic City but had hoped never to have to use. I didn’t expect I’d have to use it after our involvement in Ely was over.

  She pressed Send, and a moment later, Director of the Boston Paranormal Defense Agency bureau Paul Andrews said, “Who is this? How did you get this number?”

  Diana replied, “Someone on the same side of things as you are. You need to detail a recovery team to the location I’m about to give you. A Rhazdon artifact has infected a local. He seems rather insane.” She gave the address.

  He demanded, “Who is this? Why should I listen to you?”

  “We have an acquaintance in common. I don’t think you’d call her a friend, though. Wears a mask.”

  He groaned. “Okay. Team’s on the way. Now you tell me who you are.”

  Instead of doing so, she crossed into the nearby bathroom, dropped the phone in the tub, and used fire to destroy it. Rath threw his in beside hers. They headed outside, and Diana said, “Well, there goes our idyllic winter on the Cape. Let’s go get Max and head to our secondary location.” She opened a portal back to their small house.

  As they stepped through, Rath said, “I wanted to ski.”

  “Me too, buddy. There’s probably skiing in Seattle, assuming we can safely leave the house.”

  As she closed the rift behind them, she said, “I wonder how many of these damn artifacts are out there. Not being sold on the black market or used by magicals with malicious intent, just infecting regular people and creating chaos?”

  He shrugged. “No way to tell. I hope the PDA can help him.”

  Diana nodded. “Agreed. I think we might have found a new secondary mission for our team. Ordinary people who get mixed up with these damn things need the kind of help we’re uniquely suited to offer.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  It didn’t take them long to pack up since they’d never really unpacked, and the cross-country trip was accomplished in only an instant as they stepped from their house in Cape Cod to the top floor of a house in Seattle. Originally a single-family home, rising prices and the booming housing market had forced the woman on the first floor to convert the second to an apartment.

  Through a series of cutouts, Diana had been renting the upper floor for almost six months. She’d put in an appearance now and again, always in disguise, explaining that she was a frequent traveler who was often overseas and needed a place she could call home from time to time. The woman had said she understood, and Diana got the impression that home meant a lot to her.

  It was only four rooms: a bedroom, main room, kitchen, and a bathroom. She sighed, having preferred their last hideout a great deal more than this. Well, there could be skiing, right?

  Her inner voice replied, “Good plan. Maybe you can get nabbed by the FBI while enjoying your winter sports.”

  She didn’t even have the energy to tell her inner critic to shut up. Besides, it was correct. In the current situation, the only way they could go out in public was in disguise, and she wasn’t the best at maintaining disguises for herself and Rath while doing other complicated things. Especially not hurtling down the side of a mountain on a pair of sticks.

  She found herself pacing, with Rath in the middle of the room watching her, a concerned expression growing on his face. She forced herself to stop moving, drew a deep breath, and blew it deliberately out. “Okay. New place. I grabbed enough food for tonight, so we’re clear there.”

  The troll nodded. “Maybe a bath?”

  Diana smothered a reflexive frown. She had, on occasion, used long baths and showers to relax, so it wasn’t a terrible idea. She was still too keyed up right now, too focused on work, to find contentment that way. “Good thought, buddy, but I think I need something else. You two stay in here, watch some TV. I’m going to have a chat with Fury.”

  Rath smiled and hugged the Borzoi, who had been lying next to him watching her pace. “Tell him I said hi.”

  Diana chuckled. “Will do, buddy.” She went into the bedroom and closed the door, bringing only her sheathed sword with her. Sitting on the bed, she swung her legs up, crossed them, and arranged herself properly, back straight and weight centered. She pulled the sword from the sheath and set the latter aside, placing the weapon across her lap. Her left hand descended to rest lightly on the blade near the point, and her right did the same on the hilt. She closed her eyes and sent her thoughts inward.

  The sentient being inside the sword was as eager to speak with her as she was with him. It took only an instant for the trappings of the sword’s interior world to surround her. It was Japan-inspired, shoji panels making walls on all sides, a wooden floor polished so well it almost glowed conne
cted to similarly treated wooden posts climbing upward to crossbeams on the ceiling.

  Tapestries and banners inscribed with calligraphy hung in several places. She was seated on a cushion in front of a black lacquer table. A traditional tea service rested on its surface. Opposite her was the avatar of the being inside the sword. He was all sharp edges, his cheekbones, his eyes, his eyebrows, and thin lips. He wore his traditional sword-fighting outfit, a red tunic and long black skirt. His deep voice, harsh with its Japanese accent, nonetheless conveyed warmth. “Diana. Welcome.” He inclined his head in a small bow.

  She matched it. “Arigato. It’s been a while.”

  He nodded sharply. “Perhaps, in the future, it might not be so.”

  It was criticism but delivered with enough nuance she could choose not to take it as such. Instead, she owned it. “Yeah, I know. The fact that I’ve been busy is no excuse.”

  “As you say.” He leaned forward and busied himself with preparing the tea. “What has brought you here today?”

  She sighed, keeping her eyes on his hands as he did the same. Sometimes, it was easier to be truthful when one didn’t look their conversational partner in the face. “I’m uncharacteristically unmoored at the moment. I’ve been in this place before, but only transitionally. I feel a little stuck right now, to be honest.”

  His head dipped in a nod. “So, you retreat to that which you know best, seeking solid ground. This is wise.”

  “It’s kind of you to say so.”

  He glanced upward with a small smile. “Rest assured, wielder. I’ll never tell you anything other than the truth. I am incapable of flattery.”