Cloak and Daggers (Order of Prometheus Book 2)

by Katerina Martinez

  “It’s fine. I’m sorry, this could have waited until tomorrow.” Jamie started to head for the door.

  “Woah, wait a second. Why are you being weird?”

  “I’m not being weird.”

  “This is super weird. What did you want to tell me?”

  “Look, it’s nothing. Okay?”

  “Jamie, you came to my quarters to talk and celebrate. Now you’re bailing. What’s up?”

  He sighed. “It’s nothing. I’ll talk to you later.” He proceeded on to the door, and then grabbed the door handle. Just before he opened it, he looked over his shoulder at me. “Max…”

  “Yeah?” I asked.

  “Goodnight.”

  Jamie left the room, leaving me with nothing but questions and confusion. I had no idea why he had come to my room only to ask half a question and then leave as abruptly as he had arrived. I got the feeling he hadn’t really wanted to ask me if I thought we could leave the city. It seemed like something else was on his mind, but I didn’t know what it could be, and there was no way I was going to find out now.

  I sighed and backed away from the door, turning to grab the basket of clothes bound for the laundry room. I would do the laundry, then get some much-needed rest. That was the plan. But then the lights went out, smothering me in darkness, and I dropped the basket out of shock. An instant later, an alarm blared; some kind of high-pitched, whirring siren, rising and falling in a constantly repeating pattern. Lights came on, but they were red and dim, which did nothing to still my rapidly beating heart.

  Emergency lights. Something was happening.

  I dashed to the door and fumbled for the lock in the dim, red lighting until I found it, undid it, and managed to get the door open. Jamie was already there, inches away from the door and about to try and pull it open himself.

  “What the hell is going on?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” Jamie said, looking around, “But I think we’re under attack.”

  “Under attack? From who?” But there was only one answer to that question, wasn’t there? The Faction. They had found us somehow. They were here.

  Jamie began to rush down the hall, and I followed closely, keeping my eyes and ears peeled for hostile activity. The alarm continued to blare, and the lights remained off. We made it into the mess hall, which was empty at this time of night, and besides the blaring alarm, it was eerily quiet. The shadows here were the color of deep blood, the siren bounced off the walls in an almost distorting way, and the dimensions of the room seemed warped and all wrong.

  I tried to block out the distractions as I reached within myself to summon Spider. Telepathy wasn’t my strong suit; that was his game. He was always the one to initiate the connection with me. But I didn’t need to connect with him, only let him know that I needed him and…

  Max! I heard him say into my mind, as if on cue, what’s happening?

  Spider, thank God. We’re under attack. Get the others and get the hell out of here, understood? Find Aisha, and leave.

  Do you know what’s going on?

  I think the Faction has found us.

  Shit. Just as I was getting used to this place, too.

  Go!

  Jamie turned a corner up ahead and bumped into several members of the Order who were coming our way. Charles was with them.

  “Max, Jamie,” Charles said, “I’m glad you’re okay. We need to evacuate HQ, but we don’t have a lot of time.”

  “How did they find us?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. They must have been tracking one of you, or maybe one of the girls.”

  “It was stupid of us to bring them here without checking them first.”

  “This isn’t your fault. Now, you have to listen to me. We have escape routes, but we need to coordinate. There are over one hundred people in this building, and we need to get them all out safely.”

  “What do you want me to do?” Jamie asked.

  “I want you and Max to find the others—Abel, Spider, Aisha, and the new girls. Find them, and get them out of the building using the eastern facing hatch. Do you understand?”

  Jamie nodded, knowing exactly what his father meant. I did too, having been briefed on the many routes of escape from this place. “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to—”

  The sounds of gunfire and the resounding clashes of metal striking metal cut Charles off just as he was beginning to speak. Everyone hit the deck as bullets flew above us, hitting walls, tables, and counters. One burst of gunfire struck the TV mounted against the wall, causing it to explode in a shower of sparks. Another few bullets sailed into the sound system next to the TV. When I turned my eyes toward the source of the gunfire, I saw only green laser beams, followed by muzzle flashes, followed by tresses of quickly swirling smoke.

  I slammed my right fist against the ground, causing blue fire to envelop it. Black, tattoo-like patterns crawled across the back of my hand, stretching all the way to my fingers, and my chest began to vibrate as magic filled me. I turned to look at Jamie, who was lying on the floor next to me, and without saying a word I succeeded in conveying to him exactly what I planned to do, and what I wanted him to do.

  He shook his head in a silent, but furious, no.

  I didn’t give him a chance to argue the point. I put myself into a crouching position, plunged into a forward roll, and when I stood upright, I threw as strong a wave of magic as I could muster in the direction of the lasers. The energy wave ripped through the mess hall, pushing aside anything that wasn’t bolted down and warping anything that was until it came into contact with the men holding the guns on the other side of the room. They were wearing night-vision goggles, so in the darkness all that was visible was the laser beam from their guns, and two green circles of their eyes.

  The men toppled into each other. Wild gunshots flew, some striking the ceiling, others hitting the walls. One bullet whizzed past my ear, another couple of inches to the right and I would have been hit in the eye. I caught one guy coming in from behind the fallen men, picking his way over his comrades, his hand also glowing faintly with magic.

  “It’s a hunter,” I yelled. “Jamie, get your dad out of here. Now!”

  In a show of defiance, Jamie rose from where he lay, cocked his fiery arm back like a quarterback about to hurl a pigskin all the way across a field, and hurled a bolt of energy at the mage standing in the darkened hallway. The ball struck the mage square in the chest with a thud so strong it had to have broken many of the mage’s bones, and the mage went down on top of his friends.

  More people suddenly came running into the mess hall, and just as I readied myself to strike, I found myself standing down, and my heart swelled with relief. It was Abel and Aisha, accompanied by other members of the Order. But the sounds of distant gunfire and groaning coming from somewhere nearby stopped us from making this a happy reunion.

  “You have to go with Charles and the others,” I said to Aisha, “They’re getting out of here.”

  “Wait, what about you? Aren’t you coming with us?” Aisha asked.

  “If the Faction’s come down here looking for a fight, I’m going to give them one.”

  “Like hell you are.”

  “We have to buy time for everyone to get out!”

  “Everyone else,” Abel said. “If you’re staying, I’m staying too.”

  “I’m not going anywhere either,” Aisha said.

  I realized that Abel and Jamie had formed up around me and were staring at me with eyes that indicated our shared goal. We all wanted to stay and fight, and that… that was just an awesome, incredible feeling.

  “Charles,” I said, turning to him, “Get your people, get Kim and Daliah, and get out of here. Initiate whatever evacuation procedures you have to. Everyone who can leave, leaves.”

  Charles nodded without hesitation, not because he was a coward, but because he understood—as I did—that in the grand scheme of things, the leader of the Order of Prometheus was more importa
nt than I or any of the others were. If the Faction could come out in front of the world and tell them they had cut off the head of the snake, then all the work we had done until now was for nothing. The Order was finished.

  He took Jamie by the shoulder. “Get out safely,” Charles said.

  “You too.”

  Charles took the other members of the Order, and together they made their exit through a hidden wall in the mess hall. Spider, are you still there? I asked in my mind.

  I hear you, Spider said.

  I need you to get to the Avenging Ace and prep her for immediate takeoff, but don’t you dare leave without us. We may have wounded with us.

  Wouldn’t dream of it.

  I turned to look at the others. “You ready?” I asked.

  Abel flexed the fingers of his right hand, and vibrant, violet fire seemed to erupt from within his skin, bathing his face with light. Aisha’s amber eyes glowed in the darkness. Jamie, who was already prepared to fight, turned to face the corridor where footsteps were fast approaching.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  We had faced an inexperienced force earlier on, hunters with no real clue what they were getting into when they signed up—or were assigned to—follow Kim and Daliah. There was, however, nothing inexperienced about the force that had been sent to the Order of Prometheus’ HQ, and that became evident as soon as I saw the small, cylindrical object come rolling into the mess hall.

  Realizing I would have no time to grab it and hurl it back into the dark corner from which it came, I tucked my head into my chest, covered my ears, shut my eyes, and turned away from it, screaming for the others to take cover. The grenade went off with a bang, a blinding flash of light, and a sudden pulse of heat. Although my eyes had been spared from blindness, I couldn’t hear anything but a ringing in my ears.

  I opened my eyes again and stared across the room, which had started to swim. More green lasers. This time I didn’t stay put. I launched myself into a run and began to cross the mess hall, charging straight into the men about to enter the room, sliding on the floor the last couple of feet and snatching up a rifle from one of the men I had knocked down with my magic a moment ago.

  From my position on the ground with my back against the floor, I aimed the rifle up at the dark corridor where the men were about to enter and opened up with the rifle. The gun bucked and shook and spat bullets at breakneck speed. They slammed into the walls, snapping marble tiles into hundreds of pieces and causing showers of sparks, dust, and chips to fly in all directions.

  I wasn’t sure if I had hit anyone, but I didn’t care. The men called for each other to fall back, to retreat deeper into the corridor. I kept my finger on the trigger until the gun clicked empty. I fought to get to my feet and started to move back to the others when Abel reached out, grabbed my arm, and pulled me toward him.

  “Here comes another one!” he yelled, shielding me from the second blast with his own body. I reached up and covered his ears just as he tucked my head into his chest. The second flashbang grenade detonated, the force of which I could feel inside my chest.

  Abel released me and moved to stand in front of the secondary corridor, which seemed to be an entry point for the Faction and their troops. Troops. It was stupid to even think such a thing. The Faction had never had troops that wore suits of armor and carried guns and grenades because that kind of force just wasn’t necessary in New Seattle. Instead, they had hunters and magical investigators. So, just who were these guys?

  “Max!” Aisha called out, pointing over my shoulder. The men I had discouraged with gunfire from the rifle had steeled their resolve and were entering the room with rifles raised and green lasers searching.

  The mess hall tables were bolted to the ground, which meant I wouldn’t be able to use them to take cover from bullets, so I threw myself behind a counter just as the first burst of bullets came screaming. Several bullets struck a coffee machine, spilling its contents. Others hit the shelves on which many cups and plates were stacked, bringing them all crashing down around me.

  I crawled on my hands and knees behind the counter, making it all the way to the edge—closer to the guys with the guns—as bullets continued to spit in all directions. I could feel the sudden compression and release of magical energy around me as Abel and Jamie began using magic to defend themselves and attack the aggressors. When I came out of cover, running directly into the blind spot of a guy wearing a tactical suit and holding a gun, I caught sight of Abel using his glowing hands to block the bullets being spat at him and Jamie using telekinesis to hurl debris at our attackers.

  I leapt onto a mess hall table and used the momentum to throw myself, feet-first, against the head of the guy I had been charging. He turned to look at me at the last possible second, but he couldn’t bring the gun up in time. My feet connected hard with his exposed jaw. He twirled, and released his gun into the air before staggering back and falling to the floor. I caught the gun and landed hard on my shoulder, but I ignored the pain, and pumped bullets into the legs of another man that had entered the room.

  First blood, I thought distantly as the bullets tore into his calves, sending a warm spray of blood in all directions. The man caved, collapsed to his knees, and fell to the floor screaming and holding his bleeding legs. Before I knew it, there was another man on me. He wrestled me for control of the rifle in my hands. I let the gun go, and with my right hand sent a pulse of magic directly into his chest, causing him to fly into the ceiling with a loud crack, and then come crashing back to the floor beside me.

  But again, I had little time to think. Another two men had come up on either side of me. One had grabbed my leg with one hand while he trailed his rifle on me with the other. The second man had slung his rifle under his armpit and was trying to hook his arms beneath mine. They’re trying to take me in, I thought, and a sudden rush of panic caused me to seize up. Death was better than capture, far better, but I couldn’t move.

  The guy trying to grab my arms suddenly let me go, sending me whipping back to the ground, the shock of which snapped me back into the moment.

  “What the fuck!” he yelled, as a demon with wickedly sharp nails, a lashing tail, and eyes that blazed like balls of hellfire leapt onto a table, and then lunged toward him. He tried to raise his gun, but the demon’s jaw opened, and a cascading torrent of orange flame came from its throat and spilled onto the man’s chest.

  It was Aisha!

  I put my hands up to shield my face from the heat, but it was no use. This wasn’t like any level of heat I had ever felt before; it was, I thought, as if Aisha had reached into the heart of the sun and pulled just a little bit of it out through its own throat. The soldier screamed as the fire melted through his armor, burning the flesh beneath.

  The smell of molten metal, fabric, and flesh filled the air instantly. I felt the second solider drop my leg and start to run, but Aisha turned her attention toward him, arched her neck, and spat out a cone of flame onto his back with enough force to send him sprawling to the floor. He was covered in flames that quickly began to spread across the floor and up the walls.

  I had never seen her like this before, without whatever mask she wore to keep her true appearance a secret and pretend she was human. Though her body was humanoid, and her face largely resembled the face I had come to know over these last ten years, very little else about her was human. On the flats of her body—forearms, shoulders, thighs—were light scales and spindles that almost shimmered against the firelight. Her teeth were sharp, as were her claws, but in the sobering light of alertness, once the disorienting confusion had worn off, she looked a lot less scary than I had imagined a moment ago.

  And then, just when I thought I had seen it all, I noticed her tail… She had a goddamn tail!

  “Thanks,” I said.

  Aisha leapt from one table to another, proceeding to breathe fire at the feet of another group of men who, after having seen what she could do, had been entirely run through with fear’s cold spear and could not br
ing themselves to shoot, or even run. When the flames splashed along the floor in front of them and began to lick at their boots, they ran.

  The smoke in the room was starting to thicken, making it difficult for me to figure out who was who. If not for the color of Abel and Jamie’s magic, I wouldn’t have been able to tell them from our attackers; mages, judging by the way their hands were glowing too. I wasn’t sure how many people we had knocked out of the fight—maybe ten? But it didn’t matter. This mess hall was the Faction’s only means of moving deeper into the compound, and we were holding them back, buying the Order time to escape.

  Only, escape to where?

  “Cartwright!” a voice like a rumbling mountain boomed through, seeming to rise above and sink below the blaring of the alarm and the sounds of the fights happening all around me.

  My body suddenly turned cold, and I spun around on the spot to see none other than Roman Tanner standing in the hallway, flanked on either side by mages. The tongues of flame flicking up from the ground in front of him deepened the shadows clinging to his already stocky form and bald head, making the scars on his forehead and cheek look even more pronounced. He, like the soldiers, was decked out in full tactical gear, with padding and plates to protect his vital parts as well as steel caps on his boots and knuckles. He clenched hands that looked powerful enough to crush diamond and began a charge through the wall of fire in front of him, his eyes burning red. As I looked at him, it was as if fear itself had plunged its cold, skeletal hand into my stomach, grabbed it, and twisted.

  I took a step back out of instinct and readied myself for the tidal wave of meat that was about to come at me with all the force of the elements. Roman cocked back his arm, which blazed with crimson light, and hurled it at my face. I succeeded in weaving out of its path only by the grace of whatever god still held me in their favor. Roman groaned, frustrated that he had missed, and came at me with his other, less magic-infused fist. I had to throw myself under a table so it would take the brunt of his attack instead of me. The metal dented, and for a moment I thought it would split in two, but it held, and I was able to pull myself out on the other side, giving me something between Roman and myself.