“Consider it done.”
That said, the creature vanished.
Coulter wanted to hug Laci to him again but the Mage was giving him a warning look. Instead, he swept his hand toward the car. “Let’s get out of here for now. I’ve got some thinking to do.”
“I hope you guys didn’t check out of the motel already,” Laci said. “I need a bath.” She blushed. “I smell like Coim.”
“Yeah, you do,” Coulter said absently. “Fortunately we didn’t check out but I think we need to get back to the Exchange.”
“Why the hurry?” the Mage asked.
“If Vainshtyr can transport members of the NFC to some other realm and he’s willing to work with us, think of the possibilities!” he said as they got into the car. He reached under the dash to start the car, fumbling with the wires.
“Not following,” the Mage said. “Laci, where are your keys?”
“Probably still in the pocket of my jeans and they’re in my laundry bag,” she said. “We’re gonna have to pay extra for hotwiring this baby when we turn it in.”
“Coulter can pay for it,” the Mage grumbled.
“How many Taliban and al-Qaeda and other terrorists do you think are hiding out in the mountains of Afghanistan and other Middle Eastern countries?”
“Hundreds, thousands,” Laci replied. “Why?”
“Vainshtyr’s powers are only good in the mountains. He could snatch those bastards up and pluck them down in some galaxy far, far away where they can rot for all I care,” Coulter said. He put the car in gear and did a three-point turn to get them headed away from the clearing.
“Works for me,” Laci said. “Just think of the possibilities! We’ve got homegrown terrorists in the mountains of Montana and Utah too.”
“Not to mention kidnappers, child molesters and all manner of miscreants living up there,” the Mage said. “All we’d need to do is identify them for Vainshtyr then sit back and let him go to town on their asses.”
“We need a central place to put them all,” Coulter said. “Some place they can do away with one another if they feel like it.”
“Some place without weapons or the means to make them,” Laci said. “Where there are no animals but plenty of fruits and vegetables where they won’t starve.”
“Meat eating has shown to be a contributing factor to male aggression,” the Mage commented.
“And it needs to be a place where other races can’t get to them,” Coulter said. “Rescue them or use them against us.”
“Races like the Ceannus,” the Mage said.
Coulter shot him a look in the rearview mirror as the Mage lounged in the backseat. “I don’t know who they are but I don’t like the sound of them.”
“Trust me,” the Mage said. “They are not a race you want to get to know up close and personal.”
“We can talk to the Supervisors about this,” Laci said. She turned in the front passenger seat to look at the Mage. “They do know about Vainshtyr, don’t they?” At his silent nod, she turned back around. “I wonder why Taylor never mentioned him to me.”
“He’s a very well-kept secret,” the Mage said. “A last resort.”
“But one I hope we can utilize,” Coulter said. “We’re losing the war against terror whether we want to admit it or not. Everything we can add to our arsenal will help.”
Chapter Seventeen
“Did he sing for you?” Fallon asked. He was sitting beside his wife in the lounge at the Exchange. With him at the table were Taylor, Laci, Viraiden and Bronwyn Cree, and Darkyn Sorn.
Coulter had not been invited.
“No,” Laci said. “Does he usually?”
Fallon laughed as he looked at his lady. “He’s been known to, aye.”
“He is a sweetheart,” Keenan said. “It is quite a coup to have him grant you the honor of calling him by his first name.”
“Which is?” Sorn inquired.
“None of your business,” Fallon replied with a smirk. “If you ever have dealings with him, he probably won’t tell you since you’re a—”
“Pussy boy,” he and Cree said in unison.
“I take it he doesn’t like cats,” Sorn said.
“Not so,” Fallon said. “He tells me they taste good when slowly simmered in a stew.” He chuckled at Sorn’s wide-eyed look.
“You guys are awful,” Bronwyn said. “I’d like to meet An Fear Liath Mor one day.”
“The Supervisors weren’t pleased that he wouldn’t answer their summons,” Laci said. “They’re going to ask you to contact him, Misha.”
“Not a problem,” the Hell-hound said before taking a long swig of his iced vodka.
“He wouldn’t answer Coulter, either,” Taylor said with some satisfaction. “I take it he doesn’t like the Gravelord.”
“Doesn’t trust him is more like it,” Cree stated. He scooted his chair back. “That’s our song, milady.” He held his hand out to his wife.
Bronwyn took it and followed him onto the dance floor as the melodious sounds of the High Kings singing Red is the Rose came from the jukebox.
“I wish I had a dollar for every time Cree has played that song,” Sorn grumbled.
“It’s their song,” Fallon said then looked at his wife. “We have one too.”
“We don’t,” Laci complained. She nudged Taylor. “We need to get one.”
“Don’t look now but the Supervisor is headed this way,” Sorn said under his breath.
“Mine or yours?” Taylor asked.
“Yours.”
“Reynaud, Fallon!” the Supervisor stated as he neared the table. “Have you not been hearing me?”
Taylor and Fallon exchanged a surprised look and it was Fallon who looked up at the irate Shadowlord. “Were you calling?”
“In my office. The both of you. Now!” Constantine Hesar snarled. He pivoted on his heel with military precision and marched back the way he came.
“And he didn’t send his lap dog Cobb because…?” Fallon grumbled as he and Taylor got up from the table.
“He’s been sitting over in the corner for the last half hour staring at us,” Sorn said.
“I didn’t notice him,” Taylor said.
“I don’t imagine you were supposed to,” Laci said. “Something must have just come up or he’d have come over before now.”
“Wonder why we didn’t hear him,” Taylor said, falling in beside Fallon.
“I don’t know about you but I wasn’t listening for him,” Fallon quipped. “I try to pretend the bastard doesn’t exist.”
They took the elevator up to the top floor and were greeted with a scowling Cobb who didn’t bother to speak to them. The Supervisor’s assistant merely waved them on into the conference room.
Fallon opened the door, walked through, then cursed under his breath. “What’s he doing here?” he asked.
Coulter was seated at the conference table with the Supervisor.
“Shut the door, Reynaud,” the Supervisor ordered. “And take a seat.”
“What now?” Fallon snarled as he yanked a chair from the table and sprawled into it.
“Sit your ass up like a civilized human being!” the Supervisor shouted at the top of his lungs, his eyes wide, face red.
“All right already,” Fallon mumbled. “Don’t have a fucking cow.”
“That will be enough, Fallon,” Coulter said softly.
Fallon went as still as death. “Excuse me?” he asked—his voice a low growl.
“You heard me,” Coulter said. “You will show the Supervisor the respect he is due or you’ll answer to me.”
“Anytime, anywhere,” Fallon stated.
“You want your ass put down, keep it up,” Coulter warned. “I’ll be happy to oblige you, Hell-hound.”
“Guys, come on,” Taylor said. “There’s no reason to lose your tempers here.”
“I haven’t lost my temper,” Coulter replied. “I’ve lost my patience. Trust me. There’s a difference.” He leaned ov
er the table. “You took an oath, Fallon. Don’t make me slap your ass in a con cell for the next year so you won’t forget what you swore to.”
“You think you can?” Fallon challenged.
“I know I can,” Coulter replied.
The two Reapers stared daggers at one another. The air was rife with violence, the waves of it undulated through the room.
“You’re a loose cannon, Fallon. I really don’t like you,” Coulter said at last.
“Well, I fucking hate you so it makes us even, doesn’t it?” Fallon said with a sneer.
“That’s enough,” the Supervisor said. “We’ve got more serious problems to handle than the pissing contest in which you two seem to want to engage.”
“Another time,” Coulter stated.
“Count on it,” Fallon vowed.
“What’s the meeting about?” Taylor asked.
The Supervisor exhaled loudly, gaining the attention of the other men. “First, I want to say good job out in Oregon. The media had a field day with the NFC members telling everyone who’ll listen how they were attacked by demons.” He chuckled. “Their credibility went to below zero and with the members of the mother church in Kentucky suddenly vanishing, any sympathizers they might have had are certainly questioning their motives now.”
“Considering all the funds from both churches are also missing,” Coulter said with a grin.
“Nothing like thieving religious fanatics to cool the ardor of potential devotees,” the Supervisor added.
“We can cross them off our list of targets,” Coulter said. “But a new target has popped up in Upstate New York. We’re going to need all hands on deck to take this target down.”
“How so?” Taylor inquired.
“General Blaine Dexter,” the Supervisor said. “Ring any bells, Reynaud?”
Taylor frowned. “Isn’t he the ex-Green Beret who was a POW in Hanoi?”
“The one and the same. National hero and all that. He came home and rode a desk until retirement then went into politics. Right now, he’s running for senator from NY State.”
“And this is our problem?” Fallon questioned, glaring at Coulter.
“It is when he’s leading the polls and looks like a shoo-in,” the Supervisor said. “We can’t let that happen.”
“Why not?”
“He’s on the payroll of a foreign national who has very close ties to North Korea.”
“So have Homeland Security take his ass out,” Fallon said.
“We can’t tell them about this,” Coulter said.
“Why the fuck not?” Fallon demanded.
“He’s surrounded by a cadre of balgairs.”
“At least fifty,” Coulter said. “Maybe more.”
“All of the secret service agents assigned to protect him are balgairs,” the Supervisor said.
Fallon’s dark brows shot up. “You’re joking,” he whispered.
“Do you really think we’d joke about something like this?” the Supervisor asked.
“But how?” Taylor asked.
“That’s what we need to know,” the Supervisor said. “If the North Koreans are making Rogue Reapers over there, we need to put a stop to it. The implications are too horrific to think about.”
“I know neither of you want to work in the field and that’s understandable,” Coulter said, ignoring Fallon’s hiss of irritation. “So Cree, Sorn and I are going to be doing the heavy lifting on this. What we need you two to do is coordinate. We’re hoping Mo Regina will lend us a few other Reapers from Europe and South America to help out.”
“How are you going to take out the balgairs?” Taylor asked, looking from the Supervisor to Coulter and back again.
“Our lab has developed a nerve toxin that is as deadly for balgairs as ghoret venom is to a human,” the Supervisor.
“Wouldn’t it also be deadly for any human turned Reaper?” Fallon asked. His stare was steady on Coulter.
“If that Reaper had no other defenses,” Coulter said. “Such as the constitution of a Superlord.” He smiled without mirth. “No need to worry about me, Fallon. The toxin might give me the runs but that’s about all it will do to me.”
“What kind of delivery system will you be using?” Taylor asked.
“My brother has suggested a signet ring with a poison well,” the Supervisor said. “A spring-loaded pin with such a fine point on it the balgair won’t even feel the prick when it is administered. There will be enough poison in each ring well to put down three balgairs.”
“There will be a fifty-sixty minute kill window,” Coulter said. “If we have them drop dead at our feet the moment we pass them, things might get a bit harried.”
“We also need to put the general out of commission,” the Supervisor said. “We want to take him alive since he’ll be spending some quality time with my brother at Baybridge.”
“In the deepest pit there is my guess,” Fallon said with a snort.
Coulter arched a brow. “Does that bother you?”
“Not in the least. It’s sure to make Cree’s day. I’m all for keeping the Alpha Prime happy,” Fallon replied.
“Good, then let your Extensions know what’s happening and ask them to stand by in case we need them to help with the coordination efforts.”
Taylor scratched his cheek. “Do Cree and Sorn know about this?”
“Not yet,” Coulter replied. “I’ll be briefing them as soon as transportation is arranged for Sorn. Unfortunately, he can’t shapeshift to avian form as Cree can.”
“And you?” Fallon asked.
“I don’t need to shapeshift in order to travel,” Coulter said. “I can teleport wherever I need to be.”
“Well, wooly bully for you,” Fallon grumbled.
“But in this case, I’ll fly with Sorn and Cree and whoever else the goddess gives us,” the Gravelord stated.
“No women,” Taylor said. “No Extensions this time.”
“No,” Coulter said. “It’s too dangerous for them. I’d like to keep…” he glanced at Taylor then away, “them safe.”
“Yeah, I fucking bet you do,” Fallon said with a grunt.
“All right,” the Supervisor said. “That’s it for now. We’ll meet back here at 0600 tomorrow and start planning the mission.”
Walking back to the lounge, Fallon was uncharacteristically quiet. Taylor asked what was troubling him.
“He’s taking two Alphas to North Korea,” Fallon said. “Doesn’t that concern you even a little?”
“It concerns me a lot,” Taylor said.
“So we need to have a long, protected chat with Cree and Sorn.”
“In the Cone of Silence,” Taylor said with a grin.
“Aye, exactly.”
“Girls too?”
“Might as well.”
* * * * *
“You don’t have to worry about him,” Laci said. Her fingers were threaded with those of her life-mate’s. She looked up at Taylor. “They can trust him, Tay.”
“Are you sure?” Keenan McCullough Fallon queried.
“I am,” Laci said. “I would know, Kiki. It’s not only my psi sensibilities involved. It’s also my woman’s intuition.”
“Well, I must admit I am not sensing duplicity from him,” Keenan admitted.
“What about you, Bronnie?” Sorn asked. “You met him. What are your feelings about him?”
“Other than the obvious,” Bronwyn said, glancing at her husband. “I believe he can be trusted with Viraiden’s life.”
“The obvious?” Cree questioned.
“That he’s head over heels in love with Taylor’s woman,” Fallon grumbled. “Isn’t that what you meant?”
“Ah, yeah,” Bronwyn admitted. She gave Taylor an apologetic look.
“What do your hellions say?” Sorn inquired of Bronwyn and Keenan.
“Mine doesn’t react around him,” Bronwyn replied.
“Nor does mine,” Keenan said.
“So what does that tell you?” Sorn
pressed.
Laci cocked a shoulder. “That he’s on the up and up.”
“Then how come my hellion wants to smash his fucking face in?” Fallon questioned.
“Fallon,” Cree said on a long sigh. “Is there any other male whose face you don’t want to smash?”
“I can’t think of one,” Fallon admitted.
“My hellion is wary of him but it isn’t screaming evil shit,” Sorn said. “Cree?”
“The old girl has been uncharacteristically silent in regard to the Gravelord,” Cree answered. He looked at Taylor.
Taylor shrugged. “I don’t like him.” He looked at Bronwyn. “For obvious reasons. But I’m not sensing he has nefarious plots in mind. My hellion hasn’t spoken a word since he was returned to me but I can feel him stirring. When he’s near Coulter, he stills as though listening but I don’t think he’s concerned about the Gravelord.”
“He is dedicated to his country,” Laci said. “I know that. He’ll do everything he can to prevent war and he will lay his life on the line if necessary to protect Misha and Darkyn.”
“Okay, let’s say we can trust his motives then,” Cree said. “If our women believe him trustworthy I think we can rely on their instincts, and if none of our hellions are sending out warning signals about him, then we’ll have to give him the benefit of the doubt.”
Coulter was waiting outside the safe room when Sorn opened the door. The Panthera gave him a surprised look but said nothing, stepping aside for Bronwyn to exit the room. He waited until the Reapers and their women were standing in the corridor with him before he pushed away from the wall on which he’d been leaning.
“So, what’s the 411?” he asked.
“Is the plane ready?” Cree inquired.
“I take it your Extensions have okayed you to go with me,” Coulter said. His eyes were on Laci.
“Our Extensions and two Alphas will be watching your every move,” Fallon said.
“As well as a Ridge Lord, a Shadowlord, a Mage, two Nightwinds and the gods only know who else,” Sorn added.
“Don’t forget the two goddesses,” Taylor put in.
“The more the merrier,” Coulter said. “Wheels up in one hour, gentlemen. The Supervisor told me there will be three other Reapers waiting in Seoul when we get there. Oh, by the way, there will be an empath on our team. We’ll be picking him up in Syracuse.” He turned his back on them and walked away.
A Reaper's Love (WindWorld) Page 22
