by T S Paul
"Agatha that makes you a target! We must stick together in this!" Cat could only stare in shock at me.
"By conducting the investigation this way, we are working together. I just can't keep all of you safe. My Magick isn't strong enough, Cat! The Strega are something none of us have ever tackled before. They practically ruled Sicily before the Demon Wars. It was only the threat of Demons that made them move entirely here to this country. We will be in touch the entire time. I promise you that." I felt a tear run down my face. The actual thought of leaving my friends and my team scared the living hell out of me.
"Where is WITSEC keeping this witness?" Cat asked.
Bill had a grimace on his face. I knew he disapproved, but I was in charge not him. "Near Washington, in a safe house. It's where they take everyone. Director Mills told me it's like the old terminal at Ellis Island. They assign living space and virtually your whole new life there; new identification, names, licenses, etc."
Bill shook his head. "Do they have precautions in place for Magick?"
"Not to my knowledge. That's one of the reasons they requested us so fast. They hold to an unspoken rule of not protecting Magickal witnesses."
I checked my watch and frowned. "We can discuss this more on the road, but we need to go now. They are expecting us to pick him up in a couple of hours. Chuck, can you get Anastasia's RV disconnected and ready to go?"
"I'll go now. Have you told her about all of this yet?" Chuck waved at all them to include the topics that we had just discussed.
Shaking my head, I replied, "Not yet. I'll call her when she wakes. I'll take the lead, catch up when you can." Holding up my hand to prevent further arguments I went back to my room slamming the door behind me.
"Hey! Not so loud. I'm trying to learn something here." Fergus yelled at me from inside his barn.
"I'm almost afraid to ask. What are you learning in there?" Opening the lid, I could see him sitting in his recliner watching his phone.
"It's a new show on the Barn channel called 'Pimp My Stall.' They fix up horse stalls and make them pretty. You should see what they did for this one old race horse. I really want a new paint job with flowers and wallpaper in my barn now!"
"What's wrong with what you have? The farmer and fake farm animals look OK. You have a dance floor and mirror ball already why change anything?" The walls were starting to appear scuffed and worn. Maybe I should search for a new barn for the little guy.
"It's too old! Can we pimp my barn? Can we?" His jumping up and down made me forget the whole WITSEC thing and all the danger it represented.
Still speaking, I sat down at the table the barn rested on. "How about this? I'll let the Bs know that you want a change. They seem to be crafty. We can paint, wallpaper, and jazz up your barn for you. Possibly give you a porch or something. Does that sound good?"
"Yes! Let's go now!" Fergus opened his door, which made its Moo sound and ran out to see me.
"About that. We have a new assignment first. I need to protect a guy from Witches called the Magical Mafia. We'll be traveling for a few weeks. Can we wait a little bit?" The things I do to keep my unicorn happy.
"Can I get a water fountain?"
"We'll see about that later. You'll be traveling with me a bunch. My job this time is to protect someone, so I may need the power stored inside of you."
"Do you have to? Every time you do that I feel like a juice box." Fergus shivered all over.
"It doesn't happen all that often. So get ready to travel we're leaving the barn in the RV. You get to ride with me."
Chapter 3
Darkness filled the room like a cloak. Giovanni Orlando shivered as he stepped inside. Of all the tasks in the outfit he did, this was the one he hated the most. Some would say it was an honor and a privilege to talk to the Capo di tutti capi on a daily basis. Those people were, of course, not him. The boss of all bosses was the scariest thing he had ever experienced. The Strega were simply terrifying.
"Is it done?" The voice came from all around him as he followed the faint outline of the path. One didn't stray from the path. That is what his predecessor told him just before he disappeared.
"Uh, not exactly. The snitch is still alive."
The temperature in the room suddenly dropped to below freezing. Gio saw his breath in front of him, and his heart started to race. He began to hyperventilate and tried to slow his breathing. Wildly looking about, he stayed on the path. After a few seconds, his breathing slowed. He looked up, right into a pair of glowing green eyes.
"Ahhhh!" Gio tried to jump back but found himself frozen in place.
"You will explain." The woman in front of him was one of the most beautiful he had ever seen. Magickal power crackled all around her as he tried to move.
"The convoy of cars was where the informant said it would be. We blocked off both ends of the bridge and trapped them according to plan. Your Adept hit them with the spells, and the armored cars were destroyed. He wasn't in them. They had him in the lead car under some sort of Magickal protection. Enzo hit them with the same spell, and it bounced off the car melting the bridge rail instead. Everything he tried bounced off that car!" Geo flinched when he felt the freezing cold of her breath on his neck.
"And you didn't try the old-fashioned way and just shoot them?"
"We didn't take any of the regular soldiers. You told us to keep it to only those in the know!" The dry skin of her cold hand caressed his neck as he struggled to get the words out.
She blew into his ear as she whispered. "And you followed orders to the letter, but he still escaped. Loyalty is always rewarded in this Family."
Another voice resounded from the darkness shocking Gio. There were more of them? "Stop playing Sybil and finish the job."
"Fine, have it your way Alegra." How many are there? That was Gio's last thought as he felt a hand jerk his head backward. A sharp prick and he was no more.
"He could have told us more." Sybil stared down at the mafioso bleeding out on the dark floor.
"Doubtful. Enzo will have more information than that fool. Magickal deflection could mean many things. Could the Council be involved with this?" The Strega called Alegra spoke into the darkness.
"Doubtful. They may have mundies scared of them, but they don't dare move about openly yet. There are much more powerful things in this world than them." This new voice was faint and reedy in tone.
"The World Council is nothing to worry about. When was the last time they did anything openly?" Sybil turned toward the darkness cocking her head. "Ysabel?"
A tiny, gnarled, old woman in a cloak stepped out into the light. "True. But something stirs the eddies of Magick in this world. I don't like it or the implications it brings forth. Send out feelers. Tell our people to report anything unusual and find the snitch!"
Murmured voices all replied 'yes' to the old woman. Moving silently, Ysabel slipped back into the shadows and disappeared. Sybil stared into the dark, listening to the sound of her sisters in Magick leaving the room. Then she looked down at the now cooling body of one of her best Caporegimes. She spoke into the gloom, "clean this mess up and dispose of the body."
The Strega leader paused, studying the pattern blood made upon the dark floor. "Pick up his family too. A message needs to be sent. We've grown too lax I think. Make them disappear. Use one of the Doors if need be." She stepped over the body and followed the path to the end without looking back. Only darkness followed her.
~~~~~~
Nicolas Craven carefully threaded his way around the various Marshals and offices workers. He was moving through the main building of what many in law enforcement called WITSEC. The real name was the US Federal Witness Protection Program. Most officers in uniform wore patches using the acronym FWPP. Confusion was part of government life.
Nicolas noted almost everyone in the building wore black armbands or a black ribbon over their badges. A half-dozen of their own were melted to death just yesterday. His men wanted revenge for what happened to their friends
. Their brothers-in-arms were dead, and he was about to see the man who would make revenge possible.
"No. Forget it, Nick." Special Director John Calvin held up his hand as soon as he saw Craven.
"Sir, we can get these guys! Witnesses at the scene said it was either Giovanni Orlando or someone who looked just like him. He's the key to all of this. Let me take some of the Marshals and..."
"Damn it, Nicky! No. What does this mean?" The director held up a plaque with the program's name on it.
Nicky grimaced. "Witness Protection."
"Exactly. Witness protection. We protect. We do not go rogue and hunt down suspects or murder them. Let the FBI and local LEO's do their jobs. Please, Nick." John looked into the eyes of one of his best men.
"Come on John. The FBI? The local office can't find their ass with both hands and a pack of hunting dogs. Those guys are useless!" Craven flopped down into one of the director's office chairs.
"I will admit that Agent Martelle's office is a little disorganized but..."
"Disorganized? Do you remember the Sheffield case? If we hadn't have switched rooms at the last minute, Sabina would have died. They were even tailing the guy that shot up the room. Since he didn't kill anyone, they let him go!"
"Their procedures are a bit restrictive. They have way too much paperwork and regulations to just shoot people. You should know that since you are former FBI," John said as he smiled at his disgusted officer.
"Oh, please. Just bring that crap up, will you? Yes, yes. I was FBI for all of a minute. The dress code and I had serious issues. I also refused to kiss my boss's ass." Craven smiled at the memory of telling his boss off and tossing his badge in the trash.
"Don't become a Ronin on me. OK?" John looked across his desk at him.
"Fine. I promise no lone-wolfing it. What are we going to do with him? Court is in three weeks, and if we try to move him, we are going to lose men again. Some of those guys were my friends!" Craven protested.
John smiled crookedly at him. "We do have help coming. Someone higher than me has arranged for Magical Crimes to take this one from us. Before you start, it came from way, way, way up there. Even I don't recognize the authorization."
"Magical Crimes? How can Jack help us? He's human like us. We need to handle this ourselves. Don't we still have those Russians on the payroll?" Craven asked.
"We do, but they are occupied elsewhere. Agent Jack Dalton retired from Magical Crimes. He's not who's coming." John tossed Nick a thick file.
"There's a special team now. Five Agents instead of just one. That's everything I could dig up on them. Some of my bosses are calling them the 'Lost Children.' Word is they've tackled some pretty crazy cases already." John pointed at the file.
"Like what?" Nick cautiously opened the folder. His eyebrows shot up on the first page. "She's just a kid!"
"That 'kid' almost took down the entire FBI Academy by herself on the first day of classes. The moron they had as director attacked and tried to arrest her. She left him hanging about twenty feet in the air for half the day. The Marines hate having her there, but she's handed them their hats more than once."
Nick continued to read. "So two Were's, a Vampire, a Witch, and a human Agent? Who is he?"
"William Maxwell, he goes by Bill. You might remember him from the Ponzo case. He was the arresting Agent for Robert Ponzo. The story I got was he took down 'dapper Bob' alone when Agents caught him just after a hit."
The Marshal shook his head. "If only that guy could have followed the rules. He just had to have a sausage sandwich at three in the morning. The only place to get something like that in Nevada was Vegas. His tombstone should read he died with a sausage in his hand. Stupid. So how did Bill end up in charge of these kids?"
"Oh, he's not in charge. He works as their liaison. The Witch is the one in charge." John motioned with his head to the file.
Nick flipped back to the picture at the beginning. "Nice looking. Just who is Agatha Blackmore and how much trouble is she going to be?"
~~~~~~
"She's a menace! That's what she is! If you had only listened to me last year, we wouldn't have this issue at all! What do we even tell the Ambassador?" Montgomery threw his hands up in the air.
"He hasn't asked, and you know it. Your paranoia about the girl clouds your judgment." Ray Winters curled her fingers and rubbed her nails with her thumbs. The nervous movement was just a habit for her.
"The Dragon Ambassador only asked about the dispossession of SarKany's possessions. Under the Draconian law, everything belongs to Miss Blackmore whether she knows it or not. If possible, they wish to take everything with them. Including his body." Chief Counselor Bethany leaned back in her chair. The shadows along the wall were enough to hide her almost entirely.
"Why? Why would they want that stuff?" Montgomery stared at the leader of the council.
"Has everything been evaluated?" Ray turned and looked at the angry man.
Montgomery dug into his pocket and pulled out a tablet. "Sort of. I had both our historian and librarian dig through it all. The dragon had been stealing from the Museum for years. Most of it is human junk, but there are a few interesting pieces. It has to be the books. They are the only thing worth keeping according to my man."
"Have it all brought up for the Ambassador. We will give the dragons the lot of it. Anything to keep them out of America and our plans. Do it."
Montgomery nodded toward the Chief Councilor. "It shall be done as you ask."
~~~~~~
Emesh stood upon the hill overlooking The Garden. He sensed an unnatural change in the wind that disturbed him. His task upon THIS Earth was to tend the fields and bring prosperity where he willed it. The entity called The Garden shifted beneath his very feet as if it felt the disturbance. A great change was coming. Emesh picked up a handful of dirt and perceived the very building blocks of this world. Answers were needed. Causing a door to open, he stepped through into another reality. Maybe the Librarian at the Bar would know the answer.
Chapter 4
With all the bitching and moaning over, each person packed up to leave. As always, I was the last to exit the laboratory compound. As I cast the protection spell, I held the door open for a moment. I stared at the building that had become my home.
"Agatha are you OK?" I looked left to see Cat watching me.
Letting out a breath I sighed. "It's hard to leave sometimes. For once we don't go into the unknown, but something that scares big tough men with guns. I hope this isn't the last time I see it." With a hand motion, I closed the gates and watched with my Magickal sight as the shields activated. If you didn't know the fence was there, you passed it by completely. Just a new twist on an old spell I remembered. Too many inquisitive people of late.
"Are you that worried about the Strega?" Cat stepped closer giving me a warm hug.
"Some. I called Grandmother to update her and ask for advice." I blinked away a lone tear.
"What did she say?" Cat asked.
I pulled back from Cat and looked her in the eyes. "To watch my back." Shaking my head, I remembered the conversation.
"Child, you need to be careful." Marcella Blackmore was many things, but a worrier she was not.
"They're just Witches like us, right?" I asked my grandmother.
"Yes, and no. The Strega are like spiders in the dark. They have hidden from society for so long their existence has faded from common knowledge. They are but a legend in Sicily today. Where you and I follow different permutations of the Mother Earth and Father Sky, they follow Aradia and the horned god."
"But that's the same thing. Isn't it Grams?" I pulled the phone away from my ear and stared at it in surprise.
Hearing my Grandmother's voice, I raised the phone back up. "Not quite, dear. The Cult of Aradia came out of the Tuscany area of Italy. Its origins lie in the once prosperous Cult of Diana from ancient times. Small groups of our people kept the worship alive until the late 1800s. It's not known how it happened, but Aradia wen
t from being an Etruscan Moon Goddess to a child of Diana and Lucifer."
I shook my head. "Lucifer is not part of the old religion."
"No, he's not. You must remember what I taught you about the Christian faith. Lucifer is not the same as the demonic image many call the Devil. He was drawn and portrayed as a good-looking, but evil man in the years before Crusaders invaded what we call the Middle East. Those warriors of God found demons, devils, and djinn in the folklore of the people that had resided there for thousands of years. They took descriptions of them home and suddenly Lucifer was now a demon too. Aradia became 'she who would teach mankind the art of Witchcraft and exact retribution upon all who persecuted those she thought of as her people.'"
