The Gray Tower Trilogy: Books 1-3
Page 40
We went inside, and, for a moment, I tensed at the memory of Neal being here. If I saw him again, I swore I’d throttle him with my bare hands. Ian took a seat next to me on the loveseat, and Brande stood near the door like a sentinel. I eyed Ian with a worried expression, knowing that something huge must’ve happened for him to travel all the way from London and shirk his duties at SOE headquarters to speak with me.
“I was the one to warn the FBI about that warlock, Ryker,” Ian said. He clasped his hands.
“Well, good. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me just yet.” He looked at Brande. “Can...you excuse us?”
“No.” He stood near the door and gazed at us.
Ian groaned. “Isabella, the reason why I’m here is because Ryker’s my fault.”
“How is he your fault? Octavian sent him as retribution.”
“That’s only part of it. Do you recall how I only went to Finley’s Pub once and then stopped?”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Well on my visit there I...I got entangled with that she-devil, Casandra, and ended up going home with her.”
“Ian...you didn’t.”
Wonderful. He just had to choose to jump into bed with a Cruenti warlock--one I particularly didn’t like. She always hung around the pub we frequented in London, claiming to be reformed, and spending her time dancing and drinking. Everyone at the pub, including the barkeep, treated Casandra with fascination, because most of them didn’t know or experience what a Cruenti was really like. Cruenti often played up the romantic vampire myth when around normal people, but just let a tasty wizard walk by and a Cruenti would lose control, just like that creepy Morgan who attacked me back at Nena’s house.
Ian shifted in his seat. “I didn’t know she worked for Ryker. They took pictures and threatened to expose me--”
I buried my face in my hands and growled. “I don’t believe this...”
“They said they would tell SOE that I was one of their sycophants. I may be many things, but I’d never want to try to be initiated and become a Cruenti.”
I wanted to punch him. “So you let them blackmail you? You’re the leak?” I saw Brande leave his post and approach. If I didn’t say anything, he’d probably kill Ian.
“You have to believe that I’d never do anything to harm you,” Ian said, watching Brande with wide and frightened eyes.
“Too late for that.” I crossed my arms to keep myself from laying hands on him. “Do you know how many people are dead because of you?”
His lips trembled. “It started off with them asking for bits of information, nothing that seemed to connect to anything further. I never told them anything that could directly endanger you or give you away.”
“They’re smarter than that. They could’ve easily taken what you gave them and made use of it.”
“I know that now, and when you came back from Paris and told me about your identity being discovered...that’s when I realized the ramifications of what I’ve done...and that’s when I tried to break away from them.”
“How did you know Ryker was going after Isabella?” Brande asked.
Ian answered, “Ryker wanted me to lure her back to London. I knew if I did, that she’d be walking into a trap. I put out the warning to the FBI immediately and came here as soon as possible. At this point, what happens to me is of no concern--my life is over. It’s all over.”
I stood so quickly that Ian instinctively flinched. He probably expected me to start blasting him with a spell. This could’ve all been avoided if he had just trusted me enough to help. Even if what he did was something so horrible and idiotic, we could’ve found a way to deal with it. “Why didn’t you come to me, Ian? Why didn’t you ask for help?”
He looked at me through watery eyes. “Haven’t you ever done anything you were ashamed
of?”
I tried to remain calm as I gazed at him. “Ian, how much information did you give them? What did you give them?”
“They know the codenames of five different agents, mostly wizards. They know some of our code words and safe houses. When Ryker tried to give me this last assignment, he was particularly interested in you, and asked about Marcellus Eckhard and your father.”
I stared at him, wishing that someone else sat in front of me, spilling this confession. Ian was more than just my handler and my boss. He was a friend, a second brother to me. He may not have intentionally wanted to harm me, but he ended up doing so anyway. “It must’ve been good and well to slip Casandra and Ryker information as long as you didn’t have to suffer the consequences.”
Brande peered into Ian’s eyes when he asked his next question. “You could’ve just put out the warning to the FBI and done nothing further. Why did you come here?”
“Ryker threatened to plant false letters identifying Isabella as the traitor,” he answered. “He thinks I’m here under his orders, but I wanted to come and tell you the truth. If I’m going to be found out, then it might as well be like this. Forgive me, Isabella, for being a coward.”
“Cowards get scared and run, Ian. You got people killed because you wanted to protect your reputation. Will you let me take you in?”
Ian ran his hands through his hair. “Can you take me in to Morton?”
I nodded. “That’ll be the first step. Consider yourself under arrest.”
“You know what this means for me,” Ian said in a hoarse voice.
“Yeah, I think it’s called justice.” Though I said these words in anger, underneath it I felt hurt. Taking Ian in to MI6 as the traitor we’ve been searching for would carry the penalty that anyone else guilty of treason would have to face--death.
“Brande.” I gestured in the direction of the main house. “There are FBI agents parked outside the house. Have them come and escort him out.”
Brande gave Ian one last glare before walking out. I turned away from Ian and brushed my tears away with the back of my hand. When I faced him again, he could no longer keep his composure and began weeping.
“I’m sorry, Isabella. Please, at least understand my situation.”
“Don’t talk to me.”
Brande returned with the two FBI agents who had been part of the security detail for the house. I informed them about Ryker being dead, and one of the agents told me that the local police already received a phone call and were at the scene with a few other FBI agents near the equestrian properties.
I nodded and told them, “Mr. Pearce has just confessed to being an accomplice of Ryker’s. Take him to Jeffery Field and hold him there. Call Special Agents Lainey and Jameson and tell them to meet me here.”
They cuffed Ian and escorted him out. He slumped his shoulders and hung his head low. I didn’t know whether I wanted to curse or cry. I started pacing back and forth, already fearing and imagining how it would all transpire once we reached London.
“I’ll go catch up with the trackers,” Brande said.
“Do you have to?”
“I’d prefer not to, but I will.”
I nodded. “I can take care of Ian, and I think I’d rather do it by myself anyway. It looks like I’m going back to London.”
“If I see Carson, I’ll find a way to let him know.”
My mother and Delana came in. “What’s going on with Ian? And where’s Neal?”
Brande motioned for Delana to join him outside. He knew me well enough to know that I’d want to answer my mother without any eavesdropping or bystanders.
I took my mother’s hands in mine and told her that I didn’t work in the U.S. ambassador’s office in London, but with SOE as a spy. In a broken voice I told her of Ian’s betrayal, and how it almost cost my life. I could see the worry in her eyes, and the wrinkles in her frown deepen as I explained all this. However, part of me still held back about Dad--I couldn’t tell her he was alive.
“So you ran halfway around the world? For what?” she asked.
I shook my head. “Part of me felt like I had to
get away from you, but it became more than that. I wanted to do something...be a part of something important instead of just sitting at home worrying.”
“Is that how you always saw me?”
“Yes,” I replied in a low voice.
I wasn’t going to lie to her about it, not now. She never liked the fact that my father got me involved with the Order of Wizards, and she especially hated when I went to train with the Tower after college. She probably wanted me to be like Johnnie, already married and sitting around smoking Mint Juleps with her. But that was never going to be my life, and I accepted that--I just wished she had the heart to do the same. Her eyes filled with tears, but she didn’t let them fall. She crossed her arms and looked at me with that same disdain she held for my father all those years ago.
“You’re going to end up the same way Carson did if you keep doing this. He thought he was protecting us, and he thought he was doing great things. But what’s wrong with just coming home to your family? Carson missed out on us, and you’re going down the same path and not even realizing it.”
In a shaky voice I told her, “I will never end up like him.”
“When I noticed that owl ring you’re wearing, I asked Johnnie about Veit Heilwig. He’s dead. How many more of your father’s friends are dead? And damn it, I might be standing here but I feel like I died years ago too. So what are you protecting, Isabella?”
“You don’t understand.”
She sighed. “I understand enough to know that you can’t come back to this house if you still have anything to do with the Order, or getting into gunfights and betrayals, or whatever else it is you’re doing.”
I stood there and stared at her, wondering how this all fell apart. I was beginning to believe that I had a second chance to rebuild my relationship with my mother, but instead I felt like I had been stabbed in the heart. I felt the same rejection I had experienced when my mother asked my father why I couldn’t be normal, right in front of me, when I was just a girl.
“So...you hate me that much?” I asked.
“If I hated you, I wouldn’t have said a word. Sometimes it takes the people who love you to set you straight and let you know that you’re not perfect and you do not have all the answers.”
“Yeah, sure.”
I shouldered my way past her and went into the front house. Johnnie sat in the living room with Rachel. She had apparently told him her good news, because he wore a huge smile and kept giving her kisses. I felt terrible having to leave, especially like this, but a small part of me couldn’t deny the truth in my mother’s words. I was about to take off again, like my father, and leave her with questions, doubts, and hurt. Rachel almost died today because of the danger I was involved in, and what about Henry Smith, who blindly aided my father because he looked up to him as a hero? And there was Veit Heilwig, the alchemist, who had also cooperated with my dad. Too many people were paying too high of a price--which was exactly why I had to keep certain things from her. I didn’t want her to end up being the next one who had to pay.
I hastily introduced Brande to my brother, and, thankfully, Rachel put an end to any potential questions or slip ups from Johnnie about Neal. Johnnie asked me about our father, and I told him I wasn’t sure when he’d see me again.
Johnnie pulled me aside. “I visited Roxanna after lunch today and had her fix my memory of what happened at the university.”
“Good,” I said. “And have Roxanna fix Rachel’s memory of today as well. Stay safe.”
“I’ll take care of Mom and Rachel, and if you ever need anything, I’ll help take care of you too.”
A sad smile crossed my lips, and I wrapped my arms around him, resolving to never again ask for his help. It was better not to. It was safer. “Thank you, Johnnie.”
“Let me know when you can come back home,” he said.
“As soon as I can.”
The doorbell rang, and Rachel went to answer. She came in with Jameson and Lainey. I turned to Delana and spoke to her in a low voice. “I have to leave for London. What do you want to do?”
She grumbled. “I have a niece there. I suppose I can stay with her for a while.”
“Then you can fly out with me.”
“Fine.” She went upstairs to grab her belongings.
When Delana came back down, I gave my family a quick hug and said a final goodbye as Lainey and Jameson headed out to the car. Delana went with them, and I followed, with Brande at my side. When they got into the car, I paused and turned to face Brande.
“I’ll see to your father,” he said.
“Thank you, Brande.”
He stepped in closer toward me, and I stood on the tips of my toes and wrapped my arms around his neck because of his height. That’s how I’d always give him a hug. I could feel the warmth of his muscular body and the beating of his heart--I almost couldn’t believe he had let me place a heart-bind on him. As I gazed into Brande’s eyes, Lainey blared the horn--even though I was already next to the car.
“I’ll...be going now,” Brande said.
“Take care.” I released him and let him open the door for me before I slipped inside. Lainey started the car and took off.
Jameson sat in the passenger seat and turned to face me. “We heard about Ryker. Good job.”
“Well, Neal actually took care of him, but you ought to know that we had a falling out. He left.”
“That’s too bad,” Jameson said. “I kind of liked him.”
“I never liked him,” Delana interjected.
“Meh,” Lainey said. “So what’s the story with you and that guy back there?”
“He’s...someone close to me.”
“Now him, I like,” Delana said. “Nice strapping Czech man...maybe if more wizards looked like him, I would’ve joined the Gray Tower forty years ago.”
“By the way,” Jameson handed me an envelope, “we’ve got some dirt on that magazine guy, Philip Parrish.”
I took the envelope from him and opened it. “Hmm, looks like Mr. Parrish has been laundering money.”
Jameson explained, “He lost some money a year or two ago on an investment, and now it seems he’s trying to recoup the loss. Why is it again that you wanted this information?”
“Justice. I promise. Will you have any time to pay him a visit?” I placed the sheet of paper back inside the envelope and put it into my handbag. I almost got angry again just thinking about how the slime bag treated Rachel and ruined her chance at a writing career.
“We’re on it.” Jameson said.
I glanced out the window and saw that we were approaching Jeffery Field, in Boston. The Army Air Corps used it mainly, though there were a few commercial flights available as well. My stomach ached with hunger, and I realized that I hadn’t eaten since lunch. With a painful rumble in my belly, I thought about the conversation between my mother and me, and wanted to cry.
“Jameson, what time is it?”
“Five o’ clock. Why?”
“I’m starving.”
“Here--” Delana reached into her tote. “Eat this.” She pulled out the wrapped up corn bread from the other day.
“Thank you.” I tried to hide my grimace as I took the corn bread from her and nibbled at it.
Lainey pulled up to the checkpoint, at the gate, where a soldier sat at a booth. He stepped out and approached the driver side window. Jameson and Lainey presented their badges and then the soldier signaled the others at the gate to let us through. The closer we got to the air hangar, the tighter my stomach seemed to clench. It bothered me that I was taking Ian in like this, but what else could I do?
We exited the car and went inside the air hangar. There wasn’t really a place to stash a prisoner, so they had Ian, still cuffed, sitting in a chair near the storage compartments, with a guard posted on each side. His head hung low, and I couldn’t tell if he was asleep or just too ashamed to raise his head. I didn’t even want to think of what would await him once we returned to London, but it made me even more upset
to think of how much damage his unscrupulous decision had dealt.
Lainey and Jameson went to speak with one of the captains and gave instructions for our flight. Delana hung close to me, probably thinking I’d ditch her at the last minute and leave her to the mercy of the Air Corps. I noted, with irritation, that she wore my blue shawl again, and that she still kept that shopping tote, but at least she wasn’t going around offering to give anyone a reading. I thought I saw that weird gleam in her eye that she’d get when a spirit communicated with her, and I immediately tensed.
“That man over there,” she nodded over toward Ian, “all I see is sadness and darkness.”
“So do I,” I whispered.
Jameson went over to Ian and instructed his guards to take him aboard the plane that had been readied for us. Lainey headed straight toward me with a somber expression and reached inside his jacket pocket. “The President and General Donovan decided to phase in the first cohort of agents. I believe someone recommended you...if you want it.” He handed me a CIA badge.
In disbelief, I took the badge and examined it. It looked like they used an older picture from one of my files. “I’m not even done with SOE...”
“General Donovan said it doesn’t matter. You’ve earned it.” He winked, and I wanted to plant a kiss on his balding head.
Jameson approached with a grin on his face. “How do you like your badge, Agent George?”
“It’s all right, I suppose.” With a smile, I closed it and slipped it into my handbag.
“Everything’s ready,” Jameson said. “You can board the plane now.”
“Thank you.” I gave them both a hug. “Be safe.”
Delana followed me to the plane and we boarded. All I could think about was what I would tell our superior, Joshua Morton, once we reached MI6. I glanced in Ian’s direction, and he just sat there, wearing a blank expression. The captain had an officer accompanying Ian for the flight, but I didn’t think it was of any use. He didn’t have any fight in him, and he hadn’t put up any resistance. This was a man who wasn’t going anywhere, except to his own execution.