by Hazel Hunter
Shayne shrugged, dumping the carrier in the trash before walking briskly away. He knew that his familiar would circle high above, getting a feel for the city. She would likely find him before dark.
The metro train was full of people, something he welcomed after having been in the forests of Norway for so long. The wild spaces were beautiful, but there was something he missed about being in the crush of humanity. The girl sitting not far from him caught his eye. He realized with a smirk that what he had missed was less abstract and significantly more sensual in nature. He let his gaze trail over her figure. Dressed in a simple black dress and long black jacket, she didn’t stand out until she looked up.
Her eyes were a dark gray that seemed familiar and yet exotic, and reminded him of the distant mountains. The leather portfolio that she clutched to her chest didn’t hide her figure, which was lush and rounded. She had a classical beauty to her, precisely the sort of woman he liked. He grinned when he saw her startled look. When she glared, he inclined his head to show he wasn’t a threat. Humans were, at the base of it, good at communicating without words. Though Shayne wished her signals were a little friendlier, he wasn’t worried. She was a striking woman, but there were others.
She passed him as her stop came up. His hand brushed against her glove. For just a moment, it sent an odd prickle of electricity through him, something that raised the short hairs at the back of his neck. If he were in a battle situation, he would have called it danger. If he were in bed, he would have called it passion. On a train, it was strange. His eyes followed her after the door closed. She glanced back at him, wary and unsure. Though he waved, she didn’t wave back.
The train took him to the business district of the city, where he climbed the stairs to street level. Skyscrapers blocked out the light, and he joined the tide of humanity. Shayne had been born in a time before the great cities, when even five thousand people living together was a cause for excitement and wonder. This mass of people was thrilling to him. There was no telling who was a friend or who was a foe. The people he passed might have been Wiccan like he was, or they might have been Templars, that ancient order designed to hunt Wiccans to the end of the earth. They could be anyone.
The Magus Corps were Wiccan men dedicated to the protection of witches and warlocks and to the enforcement of the code of law under which they all lived. Their bases and safe houses were scattered all over the world. Here, in downtown L.A., they were on the top floor of one of the smaller buildings.
Shayne gave his name, rank and assignment to the intercom. After a moment, the door to the stairwell unlocked so he could climb it. Elevators were death traps, and he was just as happy to use his body after the long flight and train ride. The stairwell opened into a common area where there was a towering man of apparently middle years waiting for him.
“Colonel Savatier,” the man said with a slight scowl. “You’re late.”
“You must be Commander Jefford,” Shayne said pleasantly. “And yes, I am.”
Jefford waited for an apology, and with none forthcoming, he shook his head and led Shayne to a plain office instead. When they were seated, Jefford began without preamble.
“Your mission was meant to be one of observation only,” he began. “Did you understand that, Colonel?”
Shayne shrugged.
“I understood that just fine,” he said coolly. “I saw the opportunity to do more.”
Jefford growled at him. He had been a Viking once upon a time. Some instincts died hard.
“You took risks that could have endangered the entire coven in Norway. You could have been captured.”
“I could have been. I wasn’t.”
The Magus Corps’s resources allowed him to do as he needed to do, but the paramilitary structure could become a straitjacket as much as it was a support system.
“You took actions that were rash and ill-considered. You spat in the face of the orders you were given–”
“I killed three Templar agents, and I destroyed the files they had with them. Files, I might add, that led directly to the coven in Stavanger.”
“The risks you took were unacceptable.”
“The idea of leaving Templars alive who knew the location of a Wiccan community was also unacceptable.” Shayne’s smile was tight and thin. “Are you going to drum me out of the Magus Corps? If you are, get it over with.”
Jefford paused, his face red. He knew as well as Shayne did that the Magus Corps never had enough officers. Members like Shayne, who were capable of operating alone and effectively, were assets not easily given up.
“Someday, Savatier, you will run into something that you can’t fight to a standstill, and on that day, there are many Commanders that will laugh.”
“They’re welcome to it. Just as long as they don’t get in the way of my fight.”
Jefford’s response was to slam a keycard on the desk between them.
“Your room’s been prepared for you. You’re cooling your heels here for at least a little while, and maybe when we find another assignment for you, it will suit your particular needs. Get out of my sight.”
Shayne was pleased to do just that.
• • • • •
Jefford sat still for a moment, trying to calm himself. Magus Corps officers were by necessity independent and strong-minded, but Shayne Savatier was something else. Jefford was almost under control when his phone rang. He saw the name on it, and could have spit iron.
“What is it?” he snapped.
As usual, the voice on the other end had a ridiculous request, and Jefford was ready to snarl his response. Then he smiled suddenly and glanced at the closed door. Sometimes two problems were their own solutions.
CHAPTER THREE
TWO DAYS LATER, Gillian checked her passport for the fiftieth time. Reassured that it was still in the bag, she finally swung it over her shoulder, and locked up her room. She was dressed in a rose-colored cotton dress, long jacket, and flats. Her hair was twisted up in a sloppy bun. She looked like any other tourist on her way out of the city. But her destination was further than most. Also, unlike most tourists, she had no idea if she would be back. She had carefully stored the actual documents away in the Baltus Institute’s vault, but there were photocopies tucked into her bag’s secret pocket. She was as ready as she ever would be.
Truly? That tiny voice in her head spoke up mockingly. Are you truly as ready as you could be?
She had thought about it. She had been on the verge of trying to find someone to initiate her. Immortality could be an important weapon in her arsenal. It might mean the difference between success and failure. In the end though, she couldn’t do it. Immortality was an enormous prospect. She had seen that, with a few rare exceptions, most of those who were immortal were alone. She wasn’t afraid of being alone, in and of itself. But the idea of being alone for years, decades, or perhaps even centuries––that was somehow terrifying.
Well, I’ll simply have to get on without it. I’ll have to be enough on my own.
Except that she wasn’t on her own. Marceline had arranged an escort for the journey. Gillian was equal parts grateful and irritated. She would need to move fast and act decisively on this trip. But she also knew she was basically a researcher.
Nebpu sat behind his desk. She chatted with him a little as she waited for her escort to arrive. She checked the clock over and over again. He was now more than forty minutes late. Her stomach was clenched with nerves. She began to pace.
“It will be fine,” Nebpu said in his smooth and reassuring way. “Whatever you are doing, it can wait.”
She knew that he was right, but it didn’t help. She was almost ready to give up and head to the airport on her own, when the door opened.
“Good morning,” said Nebpu immediately, eyes bright. “How can I help you?”
“You can get Miss Granger’s ass out of bed, I guess,” came the drawling response.
Gillian turned towards the man with fury, but then she froze. She recognized him, and when he
glanced up, his skewed blue and brown gaze was unmistakable.
“You?” she exclaimed.
He looked startled. A slight smile started to curve his mouth, but then he scowled again.
“Are you Granger?” he asked brusquely.
Stung, she drew herself up to her full height.
“I am. And you must be the escort from the Magus Corps.”
He tapped the brushed steel pentacle pinned to his black shirt collar. It was an identifier and a mark of his rank. He was dressed in an oddly old fashioned way. Though it was regulation black, as was common for the Magus Corps, nothing else looked familiar. Instead of a belt, he wore suspenders, and there was a faint gray pinstripe on his trousers. The shoes he wore were workman’s brogues.
He raised an eyebrow at her scrutiny.
“Will I serve?” he asked, a hopeful note in his voice. “If you don’t like the look of me, you can always send me back.”
“She’s going to do nothing of the sort.”
Marceline came out of the elevator, a scowl on her face. Gillian had always thought that the coven master of the Baltus Institute would be a frightening woman if she was angered. Now she could see that she was right.
“Gillian, this is Colonel Shayne Savatier. I knew that the Magus Corps wouldn’t give in to my request for an escort so easily, so I did a bit of digging. Turns out the good colonel here is riding a rough edge. Doesn’t follow orders, doesn’t have great standing, and most would be happy to see the back of him.” She rounded on Shayne. “You listen. This girl is your responsibility now, understand? If you don’t bring her back, don’t bother showing your face in the country again, because I will end you.”
Shayne narrowed his eyes for a split second. Gillian was suddenly certain that she was going to see a fight, but then he nodded.
“I’m everything that you said and worse, but I do take my duties seriously, Coven Master. She will be returned as safe as when she left.”
Marceline gave him a long look before nodding reluctantly. She turned to give Gillian a brief and surprising hug.
“Do well for yourself out there,” she said. “It’s a big world, so be slow and find your way.”
Before Gillian could stammer out her thanks, Marceline was gone, leaving her alone with Nebpu and Shayne. She hastily bid goodbye to the sphinx, hurrying out to the sidewalk with Shayne.
“If you don’t want to be here, I don’t want you here,” she said bluntly. “My work is too important to be threatened by people who see this as an onerous duty.”
He looked surprised and then irritated. “I gave my word to your coven master that I will protect you, make sure you go where you need to, and come back. My word means something to me.”
She nodded, if reluctantly, since she didn’t have much choice. “All right.”
He led her to a sleek black car that was double-parked not far away. When she handed him her bag, he tossed it into the back seat before climbing in as well.
“Hold on,” was all the warning she got before he sped down the road.
After a moment of surprise, she made a delighted sound that made him risk a quick look at her.
“I learned combat driving in the Middle East a few years ago,” he offered. “Hard habit to break, and sometimes it spooks people.”
“It doesn’t spook me,” she said cheerfully. “I’m someone with a need for speed.”
He grinned at that, his eyes on the road. It would be three hours at least, so she settled in to watch for cop cars. Though LAX was an international airport, there was an airfield outside of Palm Springs that was used exclusively for Wiccan purposes. The drive mostly passed in silence, though Gillian found it repeatedly on the tip of her tongue to ask him whether he remembered her at all.
At the almost deserted air field, Shayne parked near a metal hut. They climbed out as a no-nonsense young woman with purple hair and dressed in coveralls came out to meet them.
“Granger and Savatier?”
“That’s us,” Gillian said. “We’re headed to Port Ilya.”
The woman checked her smartphone.
“Sounds good. If you two want to board, I’ll only be a minute.”
Gillian was about to start for the plane when it seemed as if a rock fell out of the sky. She barely prevented herself from shouting when the bird flared out its wings, braking before it hit the ground. Then it fluttered up again to land on Shayne’s shoulder.
“Is that a hawk?”
“A peregrine, to be precise. Her name is Vlasti. Be careful, she’s not fond of new people.”
The words were barely out of his mouth before Vlasti decided to take matters into her own claws. With an irritated cry, she swept across the space between them and landed on Gillian’s shoulder. Gillian flinched, expecting the talons to dig in hard, but Vlasti’s movements were as gentle as sunlight. For a moment, Gillian held her breath as the small fierce bird settled. Then she smiled as the bird nibbled on her ear with a sharp beak.
“So, not fond of new people?”
“I don’t…” Shayne’s eyes suddenly narrowed. “What’s that in your pocket?”
“Oh, I guess he woke up.”
Gillian moved slowly, but the disruption still caused Vlasti to make an angry hissing noise before hopping back to Shayne’s shoulder. Gillian pulled a large black rat from her coat pocket. He was the size of a small kitten. When he realized that he had been removed from his warm, dark place, he looked around, bright-eyed and alert.
“This is Max. He’s pretty friendly.”
Shayne held a tentative finger out to the small animal, letting Max sniff him. On his shoulder, Vlasti stirred restlessly, her natural prey in sight. But familiar did not attack familiar.
“I wouldn’t have expected a rat from you,” he said. “Perhaps an owl or a falcon, like Vlasti here.”
Gillian wondered if she should be insulted by that, but then she decided to be pleased instead.
“A rat made perfect sense to me,” she said briskly. “I was raised by my aunt and uncle, but for most of my teens, I was practically a street kid. I lived in L.A., and I saw plenty of rats there. They always knew where they could find food. They understood that their best bet of making it was with other rats. They survived.”
It occurred to her what she was saying. She blushed a little, but she was saved from further humiliation by the arrival of the pilot.
The jet was small and snug, but it was certainly enough to get them to Port Ilya. She settled into one of the four seats behind the cockpit. Shayne sat in the seat across the aisle from her, Vlasti taking a perch on the back of his chair. Max, content that there was nothing delicious that Gillian was hiding from him, curled back into her pocket to sleep.
The plane lifted off smoothly, and soon the buffs and tans of the desert were slipping past as they headed east.
“So what are you looking for?” Shayne asked.
Gillian blinked, staring at him. “You mean you don’t know?”
“Wouldn’t have asked you if I did,” he said with a slight smile.
She shook her head. “They should have told you. I’m perfectly okay to put myself on the line, but anyone they wanted to send with me should have been warned.”
Instead of being frightened or irritated by this news, Shayne grinned slightly instead.
“I don’t know if there’s any risk that you’re willing to take that I wouldn’t,” he said. “And as Marceline said, I’m kind of in the doghouse right now.”
“So I’m a punishment.”
The words were oddly deflating. It seemed like the strangest kind of serendipity that she had met this man with the odd-colored eyes again, but now she wasn’t sure how she felt.
To his credit, Shayne seemed to understand. At least, he sat up straighter and shook his head.
“No, you’re not a punishment, but you’re not my normal job. I’m a combat specialist. I can unleash a lot of mayhem when the situation calls for it, though I don’t see that happening much on a libra
ry trip.”
“Library?” Gillian blinked. “Did they tell you absolutely nothing about where we’re going?”
He shrugged. “Not exactly. The commander told me that it was a research job, so follow you someplace and make sure that the locals don’t try to take a bite out of you when you need to make some tracings, I guess.”
Gillian knew right then that she should send Shayne back. If she was really resolute, she would have had the pilot land the jet and put him off. But now that they were underway, really underway, she couldn’t.
“We’re looking for Tenebris.”
She said the words with some satisfaction, only now realizing how long she’d wanted to say them. But when Shayne started to laugh, she felt something inside her crumble.
“Tenebris? You’re looking for the Hollow City? Why didn’t you just make things easy on yourself and start looking for Atlantis instead?”
“I know where we’re going,” she said, her face flushing.
Shayne shook his head, still chuckling.
“Hells below, I knew the main office was pissed at me, but I didn’t know it was this bad. Seriously girl, what the hell were you thinking? Wait. Did someone put you up to this?”
Gillian had to consciously stop from grinding her teeth. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t heard worse over the years, but somehow coming from her ‘escort,’ it stung.
“No one put me up to this,” she said. “I’m on a mission to find Tenebris.”
Shayne’s laughter died away, but it was replaced by an incredulous look.
“You’re serious. You’re actually going to go looking for a legendary city.”
Gillian’s gaze was frosty.
“I am. There’s nothing that’s going to stop me, either. If you’re going to continue laughing at me, I’m going to send you back as soon as we get to Port Ilya. After that, at least you won’t be my problem any more.”
The colonel’s eyes were difficult to meet. Under his gaze, she felt her skin heat. She shuddered a little, but she lifted her chin defiantly.
“All right,” he said slowly. “Where exactly do you think we’re going, Miss Granger?”
