Danika gasped, eyes wide. “You can do that?”
Loken allowed himself to bask in her awe. Not many back home had truly appreciated his skill for sorcery. Or mischief. “Of course.”
“So, you can make clones and make light bulbs explode, and you summoned Samug.” Danika gave a wistful sigh. “You’re like a walking Vegas act.”
They’d reached his apartment, so he was saved from having to reply. “Good night, Lady Danika,” he said with a small bow, flawlessly polite as he slammed the door in her face.
“Wait!” she yelled through the door. “What flavor of pie do you want for tomorrow!”
He ignored her and set about researching what the name Smaug meant.
The next day, Penny switched tactics and began asking him questions about magic and magical theory rather than subjecting him to more tests. She and Danika seemed genuinely interested in learning, but he found communicating basic principles of magic to be rather difficult. There was no easy translation for many of the terms he needed to explain how it ebbed and flowed—how it connected every living thing to their home world and to each other. Loken couldn’t remember a time when he was ignorant to the hum of magic all around him.
Penny perked up.
“You mean you can sense magic?”
He arched a brow.
“And let me guess, you do it with magic.” Penny groaned. “Okay. Let’s take an early break. I need to clear my head.” She stood, walked across the room to a drawing board, and began to scribble down notes.
While she wasn’t paying attention, Loken slipped over to where Danika was fussing with the lizard. He’d debated the matter last night and had come to the conclusion that she would be the easiest to ask. After all, if she’d named her lizard after the dragon in the series, she must own the books.
Without prelude, he said, “I require a book.”
She turned to him and blinked. “Have you tried ordering it online? Oh, right. Alien. Okay. Uh, I can do it for you. It’ll take a few days but—”
“I’m afraid it’s more urgent than that. I’m out of reading material.” And he was bored out of his mind most nights.
“You’re a bibliophile? Me too!”
Danika’s unabashed excitement made him hesitant to admit what his interest was, but he’d already come this far. “Indeed. Do you happen to have a copy of the Lord of the Rings trilogy?”
Her eyes lit up. “I don’t have physical copies of them, but I do have the ebooks.” At his blank look, she said, “It’ll be easier to show you. I’ll be right back. Watch Smaug for me!”
He and the lizard stared at each other.
Loken glared at the reptile. “I could just dismiss you, you know.”
It licked its eye, oblivious to the threat.
“Here we go!” Danika announced upon returning. Placing the thin, electronic device in his hands, she tapped the screen and it lit up. “So, you can keep this, if you want. It’s nothing fancy, but it has the Kindle app on it, which is for reading ebooks. Click here to see my library...but ignore the trashy romance novels. I don’t know how those got there. Nope. Scroll and...there! Click it.”
He tapped The Fellowship of the Ring and listened as she showed him how to turn the digital pages and otherwise navigate the app. Though it was a poor replacement for a real book—the smell and feel of them was impossible to replicate—it was undeniably kind of her to offer to part with the tablet.
Before he could ask her what she’d like in return, the phone rang. Danika looked over to where Penny was writing on the whiteboard, oblivious to the world around her. Danika sighed, mumbled about being a glorified receptionist, and answered it.
“Tony’s Pizza Palace!” Danika chimed.
Loken didn’t even pretend to not be eavesdropping to the voice on the phone.
“Tell Locke to report to Agent Callum’s office immediately.”
Finally.
Before Danika could relay the order, he said, “Noted.”
“Message delivered,” Danika told the man and hung up. She looked at him, brow creased. “Aren’t you gonna go?”
“When we’re in the middle of a breakthrough?” Loken asked with mock horror. “Certainly not.”
Then, he leaned against the bench and turned to the first page of the book with a tap of his finger. He refused to appear desperate to get out of the lab, and it would do Callum well to remember that Loken was not a pet to come when called. After reading for ten minutes, Loken banished the tablet to his voidspace, keeping it safe and at hand, and walked to Callum’s office.
A certain red haired agent was waiting for him. Her legs were crossed, and she didn’t look pleased at how long she’d been made to wait.
He grinned deviously. “Agent Raaum. How delightful. Have you been avoiding me?”
“Don’t flatter yourself, Locke,” she replied, expression unreadable but tilted towards indifferent. “I haven’t even thought of you since we last met.”
Loken feigned hurt, bringing a hand to his heart.
Callum chose that moment to intervene. “Doctor Garza says you’ve been cooperative.”
Bristling at the word choice, Loken coolly replied, “Was I not ordered to be?”
Raaum made a sound that clearly conveyed her opinion on his ability to obey. Smart woman.
“You’re not officially back on active duty, but I have a mission for you. For the both of you,” Callum said, giving Loken a hard stare.
Well then. At least Loken didn’t have to wonder if Callum was still upset about the last mission. Apparently, abandoning your assigned partner before the mission even began still counted against you. Luckily for them, Loken had no objections to Agent Raaum. She was fun, and he was eager to get off of the compound.
“You’ll be Agent Raaum’s escort to a fundraiser in New York. We have reason to believe Ian Nolan is in danger.”
Ian Nolan? “Should I know who that is?”
Raaum arched a brow, as if mocking his ignorance, and Loken narrowed his eyes at her.
Since coming to Earth, he’d been learning, absorbing knowledge and experiences as he tried to lessen the cultural barriers between their worlds. It was an impossibly monumental task and remained an ongoing project. He accepted that, but he was getting tired of being expected to know the name of every human on the planet.
“Ian Nolan is a renowned inventor,” Raaum said. “A bit eccentric and arrogant as hell. He's an asset ALPHA has been cultivating, but we're not the only ones interested in him. We have intel that another man attending the fundraiser might be a threat to him. Or to our relationship with him. It’s not clear.”
So, this was a man in the midst of a power struggle between ALPHA and another. Loken simply had to meet the man who could oppose the agency he worked for. “When do we start?”
Callum handed him a file. “Your identity, Agent Raaum’s identity, and information on Draven Lestat and Ian Nolan. Lestat is the suspected threat.”
When Loken reached for the file, Callum added, “You’re second chair on this. Follow Agent Raaum’s orders. Clear?”
“It’s almost as if I’m not trusted.”
“I wonder why,” Raaum said dryly.
Callum ignored their banter. “The jet leaves in an hour. Will you be on it or arriving on your own, Agent Locke?”
He only smiled, declining to comment on Callum’s suspicions about his true means of travel. “The jet will do.”
Raaum gave him a hard look. “It’s formalwear, and I have an identity to uphold. Try not to embarrass me.”
With a grin that was all teeth, Loken said, “My dear, I wouldn’t dream of it.”
They checked into their hotel rooms with an hour and a half until the event was to begin. After conjuring appropriate clothing—a three piece suit with a black jacket, emerald green waistcoat, and a matching tie—he found his way to Raaum’s suite at the agreed upon time. She gave him a once over, and even as he basked in the attention, he had to admit she too looked stunning.
She wore a black décolletage dress that accentuated her petite form and feminine assets, and it was far more revealing than he was accustomed to. The ladies back home would be scandalized, but he liked it all the more for that reason. Shimmering, clear stones decorated the piercings in her ears, matched by the same type of gem around her neck. If there was one thing Loken would change, it would be her hair. Her natural red locks were dyed a dull brown and pulled into a bun.
“Ready?”
He shrugged and followed her down to where a vehicle awaited them.
“What’s my name?” Raaum began to drill him as the limousine drove them to the event.
Loken rolled his eyes but obliged her. “Daisi Fecteau. A French businesswoman. My name is Gabriel Duncan, your latest male indulgence.” As he recited the cover story, he let his accent slip through. He’d been attempting to mask it since his arrival, but Raaum said it would work to their advantage tonight. It gave credibility to the story that he was foreign.
Raaum gave him a piercing look. “You’re not new to this.”
It wasn’t a question, and the certainty in her gaze made him want to retreat. He made a mental note to be more cautious around her. She and he were too similar—both trained to notice what others didn’t. In their type of work, it meant the difference between life and death.
Satisfied that he knew his part, Raaum left him alone for the rest of the drive, and he studied New York City through the dark-tinted windows. There were so many lights, and each building seemed to be in a silent competition to see who could reach furthest into the sky. It was impossible to see the stars with so much light, and Loken wondered if the humans ever noticed or cared.
The roads were congested, and their progress was slow, but they made it to the event on time. The driver opened their door, and Raaum lead the way into the building, ignoring those congregating outside. A step behind her, he followed Raaum into a large, extravagant banquet hall. Bright lights illuminated the white and gold themed room that was buzzing with people. Men in expensive suits and women in lavish dresses conversed freely, and Loken began searching for Nolan among them.
“Don’t bother,” Raaum said, as if she could read his intent. “Nolan never shows up to these things on time.”
How lovely.
“Draven Lestat, however…” She wrapped an arm around his, grabbing his attention just as a clean-shaven, well-dressed man approached them.
“Miss Fecteau.”
“Mr. Beltran,” she greeted in return. She didn’t introduce Loken, which was how they’d agreed his character would be played. They wanted others to assume he was just part of the background, of no importance. When Raaum gave his arm a squeeze—a signal they’d worked out during the plane ride—he knew this conversation wasn’t integral to their work. So while they prattled on about Miss Fecteau’s business, he scanned the crowd and listened in to various conversations.
When Mr. Beltran walked away, Raaum turned to give him a coy smile, leaned in, and whispered, “Draven Lestat just entered.”
Loken gave her a smoldering look, wrapped his arms around her waist, and murmured, “Is he going to introduce himself as well?”
“No. We don’t share business interests.”
“Oh? And what business is he into?”
“And what do we have here? Ramona? Is that you?” a voice interrupted.
Loken raised his brows at the man whom he immediately recognized as Ian Nolan, despite the odd purple-tinted glasses he wore. Intentionally tousled hair should have made Nolan look ridiculous in a three piece suit, but his well-kept, short mustache, trimmed beard, and goatee spoke of a man with meticulous grooming habits. Everything he saw, Loken could tell, was carefully crafted. Especially the wolfish grin he gave Raaum.
Nolan turned to Loken, assessing him with a grin. “And what’s your fake name? Mr. Aye Gent?”
“My apologies. You are...?” Loken asked coldly, willing to bet that it would irritate this man not to be recognized.
Nolan looked quizzical. “Did Callum tell you to do that? Is he still mad I hung up on him?”
“Mr. Nolan, you’re going to need to entertain yourself elsewhere,” Raaum said, never losing her smile in case anyone was watching. “We’re here on official business, and if you blow my cover you won’t like what I’ll do.”
“Promises, promises,” Nolan retorted. “Fine. So, what’s the alias this time?”
Loken surveyed the crowd, ensuring no one was close enough to eavesdrop. Nolan was being quiet enough, but he was far from discreet.
“Daisi Fecteau, and this is Gabriel Duncan, my—”
“Escort?” Nolan guessed, giving an appraising look. “He’s certainly pretty enough. So, how about it, Gabe? How much for the night?”
Loken smiled unkindly. “Darling, you couldn’t afford me.”
“Ha! I’m starting to think you really don’t know who I am, but I’d love to show you. In private.” When Loken seemed unaffected by his suggestion, Nolan turned to Raaum. “He’s got your sense of humor, I see. So, is he a spy too? Wow, this is like a badly written romcom-meets-spy film. Without, you know, the comedy because you two are way too serious. It’s like a funeral standing next to you. Anyway, enjoy your...thing. Come find me if you wanna join me at my penthouse later. Oh, and you can come too, Daisi.”
After flashing another grin, Nolan walked off to snag a glass of champagne from a server.
Loken stared after him, debating the merits of turning him into a hog.
“Focus,” Raaum chided him.
Reluctantly, he tore his gaze from Nolan’s back and followed Raaum as she approached a woman. Another arm squeeze let him know that she was of no importance either, so he returned to crowd watching. He made notes of who Lestat approached and who approached him while simultaneously keeping track of Nolan. Lestat made no move to go near the inventor, which didn’t sit well with Loken. Was their intel wrong? Was Lestat biding his time? Or did Lestat have no intention of speaking with Nolan? Perhaps elimination was the goal. Well, having met Nolan, Loken couldn’t blame the man.
Soon, it was time to sit for dinner. Before they did, Raaum had spoken with no less than three more men, and Loken came to understand that her current persona helped broker illicit business deals. She had an array of contacts and could put a man in touch with a desired service in minutes. It must have taken her many years to build such a rapport with the international criminal underworld, and Loken had to admit that he was impressed.
As the first speaker began to address the room, thanking everyone for their generous donations, Loken tuned out and subtly returned to watching Lestat.
Until Ian Nolan dropped into the chair next to him.
Loken gave him a frigid look. “I do believe it’s reserved seating.”
Nolan made a sound of dismissal as he downed a glass of champagne. “It’s almost like you don’t want me here, 007.”
“Imagine that,” Loken drawled.
“So, how did you and Nancy Drew here meet? Was she investigating you too? I really doubt you're her first choice for a plus one. No offense.”
Rather than confirming or denying, Loken smiled, sipped at his water, and returned to surveying the crowd with a quick glance.
“Oh. The silent treatment. Very mature.”
And you’re the epitome of maturity? Loken continued his silence as he scanned the room.
“One thousand.”
The nonsensical words earned Loken’s attention. Brows furrowed, he turned to stare at Nolan.
“Your working rate,” Nolan clarified, grinning. “If you’re playing an escort, you need to have a set fee. Just trying to help.”
Loken had no idea if a thousand was cheap or not for such a service and couldn’t decide if he was insulted. Concluding it was best to keep ignoring the man, he glanced around...until his gaze met Draven Lestat’s sterling grey eyes. The hair on the back of his neck immediately stood on end, but then he realized that Lestat wasn’t looking at him any
more—if he ever had been. He was looking past. Magic prickled against his senses like an electrical current, and a scream tore through the room, erupting the hall into chaos.
Raaum jumped to her feet while Loken grasped the back of Nolan’s neck and dragged him down. Meanwhile, Raaum took aim at the beast advancing on them, trampling civilians with its sharp legs as they tried to flee.
It was unlike any creature Loken had ever seen, with six legs protruding from a circular body and a whip-like tail equip with a stinger. Pincer-like jaws gripped a man, cutting him in half as it advanced on a clear path towards their table.
Magic thrummed against Loken’s skin, and he watched as Raaum’s bullets pierced the body of the beast but did not slow it down. He reached out with his magic to investigate, and suddenly Loken knew what they were facing.
“It’s a drone,” he told Raaum. “You can’t slow it down with pain because it doesn't feel. It’s an undead vessel. It’s being piloted by a sorcerer, but that sorcerer could be anywhere on the planet.”
She didn’t look pleased with this information. “So, what do we do?”
He wasn’t familiar with the species of the drone, but if they could find a way to kill it, the pilot would die as well. When a pilot rode a drone, they were completely connected to it.
Making a split second decision, Loken stepped out from behind the table and summoned his daggers, concealing them in his sleeves. The hall was thankfully empty, so he would have no reason to hold back. Good. He’d been itching for a worthy battle.
The creature paused upon seeing him, its pincers gnashing.
“Regmir Lailoken?”
Cold fear rushed through him at the sound of his name on the beast's lips. Though the words were in his native tongue, the thick accent told him the sorcerer was not born on Rellaeria.
“Cordiae!” the beast cried mercy with the man’s voice. “Cordiae!”
Loken approached slowly, a hand held up to indicate that he meant no ill will.
“Eko...eko…”
He would use his words to win this battle. The man’s accent was thick, so Loken altered the translation spell on himself, enabling his ears to temporarily speak and understand all languages. “You what?” he prompted, wanting to keep the sorcerer talking. “Speak your native tongue.”
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