Rogue, Renegade And Rebel (In Her Paranormal Majesty’s Secret Service Book 1)

by Michael Anderle

  She turned and saw Baxter standing by the front of the train with his mouth open

  Inside the train, Lupe stood at the window with a furious yet stunned expression on his face.

  “I’m going to break my own rules and ask once more, Lupe,” Jennie called. “Surrender your people, or…”

  Jennie didn’t get a chance to finish before Lupe disappeared from the window.

  Jennie sighed. “Son of a bitch.”

  She disconnected herself from the specters and took off after him. One by one, they all slid back down the walls, a few of them dropping heavily from the ceiling. As they landed, they rubbed their heads and watched Jennie disappear back toward the train, wondering what the hell they’d just encountered.

  Jennie felt for Worthington’s energy and connected herself to him, so she was able to become incorporeal and jump through the train and onto the carriage floor.

  Lupe was now several carriages ahead, running without turning back, occasionally slamming his shoulders into the handrails.

  “A little help?” Jennie offered, extending a hand to Worthington. The specters who had been holding him let go without a word and allowed him to be helped to his feet.

  “Finally,” Worthington grumbled. He glanced at the specters. “I know we’re dead, and all, but you could at least clean the detritus out of your fingernails. Nasty stuff.”

  Jennie laughed and got down to her knees, feeling her muscles tense and coil. She channeled Worthington and imagined herself springing after Lupe and closing the distance in seconds. “Ready?”

  “I suppose,” the Beefeater agreed. “Will this hurt—”

  Before he could finish, Jennie felt an explosion of energy. She powered forward as though shot from a catapult. The carriages streamed past her as she closed the gap between her and the conduit. She kept her arms close to her body and saw the man grow closer and closer.

  Lupe turned and saw the strange spectral blur coming for him. He held the handrail and gave a hard kick to the carriage door. It buckled on its rusty hinges and fell to the tracks. He jumped off and landed on top of it, then ran through the ancient tunnels and into the dark.

  Not on my watch, you piece of shit. Jennie caught up to the door and grasped the handrail, using the momentum to swing out into the tunnel.

  When she landed, she ran along to the back end of the train, expecting to have to continue running after the small Mexican man.

  She didn’t expect to find him already wrestled to the floor, with a large specter straddling his back as he furiously kicked and pounded the tracks.

  “You’re fast,” Jennie praised.

  Baxter grinned at her. “You’re one to talk. Not every day I see a mortal turned into a speeding bullet.”

  Jennie winked. “Not every day you meet the queen’s secret weapon.”

  Baxter raised an eyebrow and studied Jennie. “Who did you say you were again?”

  Jennie drew the Big Bitch from her hip and strode over to the pair. She held the barrel of the gun to the back of Lupe’s neck and half-shrugged. “My friends call me Jennie, but most know me as Rogue.”

  A flicker of recognition passed over Baxter’s face at the codename. “So, what shall I call you?”

  Jennie made a deliberate show of chewing her lip and thinking. “Well, considering you’ve just helped me capture the head of an organization I’ve been trying to wrap my head around ever since I’ve arrived in this city, I’d say you can keep calling me Jennie.”

  Baxter’s shoulders softened. “You got it.” He pushed himself off Lupe and stood beside him.

  Jennie grabbed the back of Lupe’s collar and hauled him to his feet. “But don’t get cocky. You wouldn’t be the first person to have gone from friend to foe in the snap of my fingers. Stay on my good side, and we won’t have any problems.”

  “You got it,” Baxter assured her, the uncertainty returning to his face as he watched Jennie march Lupe back toward the train.

  Lupe glared at Jennie from underneath the canopy of his brow. “What the fuck are you?”

  Jennie deliberated this. The specters of the Spectral Plane were all gathered outside of the train, waiting patiently in reverent quiet while Baxter and Worthington guarded the entrance to the carriage.

  “I could be just a friendly neighborhood Spiderman.” Jennie grinned. “Or I could be your worst goddamn nightmare. That really depends on your answers to my questions.”

  Lupe struggled against the rope which bound him and growled.

  “Now, tell me, Lupe. What is your issue with the supernatural court? The queen has heard of your ploys in the city and decreed that you and your entire organization are enemies of the crown. What do you have to say for yourself?”

  “Fuck the crown!” Lupe spat on the floor. “You and your precious loyalties. You are so close to it that you cannot even see what is going on, can you?”

  “See what?” Jennie demanded. “I know I can see my fist finding a nesting place in your face if you don’t stop talking in riddles. You may not know this, being only a mortal playing in a specter’s world, but the court is the only law when it comes to the paranormal world. The queen is a figure of inspiration and someone who rules with an iron fist. She doesn’t take rebellion lightly, or the creation of unlicensed and non-aligned specters.”

  “I know more than you know.” Lupe smirked. “You think it’s all the same over here? You travel across the Atlantic and think that the same rules apply in the United States? You must be kidding yourself. The paranormal world is different here. Your queen cannot control us.”

  Jennie sat back in her chair and crossed her leg, looking remarkably at ease. She held the Big Bitch loosely in her hand, occasionally playing with it to remind Lupe it was still there. “And what is your cause?”

  “Freedom,” Lupe replied simply. “Freedom from the clutches of an oppressive tyrant. Freedom from those loyal to her who take the city’s dirtiest scum and employ them to her purpose. Freedom from the final death for all specters.”

  For the first time since Baxter had captured Lupe, slight doubt flickered across Jennie’s face. “And who are these scum you seem so eager to quash?”

  Now Lupe’s smile grew. The insides of his teeth were black, his eyes cold. “You really have no idea, do you?”

  Jennie gave Lupe an “I’m waiting” look, but it only made him laugh harder.

  Jennie turned to Worthington and Baxter. “I’m losing my patience.”

  Worthington held up a fist in solidarity, while Baxter muttered, “Just shoot him.”

  Liking Baxter’s idea, Jennie lifted the Big Bitch and pulled the trigger. The report was incredible, shattering what little remained of the carriage glass.

  Lupe screamed and clapped his hands to his face as dust rained down on them. The specters gasped.

  Jennie smelt the tell-tale scent of urine as Lupe’s robe darkened around his crotch.

  “Packs quite a punch, doesn’t it?” Jennie asked, admiring the hole the gun had made in the side of the train. “Imagine that happening to your face.”

  Lupe took a few steadying breaths, his demeanor changing entirely. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I don’t want to die, please, no! Padre nuestro que estás en los cielos, santificado sea tu nombre…”

  “What’s he saying?” Worthington asked.

  Jennie sighed. “It’s the Lord’s prayer.” She moved forward until she was nose to nose with Lupe. Her stare was intense, drilling into his very soul.

  She brought the Big Bitch up and stroked his chin with the barrel. “Start talking. Now.”

  “Okay, okay, okay!” he whimpered. “I never meant for it to get so out of hand, okay? I thought I was doing the world a favor. Finding a way to use my gift for good. Tanya and the others, they believed. They needed me to help them, so I did.”

  Lupe told Jennie and the others about how he had accidentally stumbled upon his gift a few years ago and couldn’t quite believe what was happening. He was able to speak to and see spec
ters wandering around the city, and it wasn’t until he started engaging in conversations that he learned of the paranormal court and the power of Queen Victoria.

  “I respected it at first. Thought that the Winter Court was a place to be revered, a place of loyalty and honesty, but then darkness began to creep through the city.”

  Jennie allowed an oversight at Lupe’s use of “Winter Court.”

  Lupe and some of the neutrals began to hear stories of a darker force in the city. A group of specters who had taken to employing the scum of the city and amassing a small army behind them. For several months, neutrals had been going missing, and some had borne witness to exorcisms of their friends by a rogue group proclaiming to be aligned with the paranormal court.

  “There was a conflict,” Lupe continued. “A month or so ago, our people met them out in the streets. They were relentless, but they were a small group, and luckily, our numbers were greater. We pushed them back into the hole they crawled out of and they have been quiet ever since.”

  Lupe looked at his feet. “We don’t know where they went or when they’ll come back again. All we know is that there is corruption in the crown, and we are gathering so that we can break what has been spawned.”

  When Lupe fell quiet, Jennie took a moment to think. The whole idea seemed ludicrous. The paranormal court was an honest power who had treated her and the others with nothing more than civility and respect.

  So why would Lupe lie? Most rebellion forces are born out of a genuine cause, whether that’s intolerance, racism, or fear, and she could definitely tell that there was a modicum of fear in each and every specter gathered around them.

  None of this makes any sense.

  “Why should I believe you?” Jennie asked at last, moving her gun back to Lupe’s chin. “What possible reason would I have to doubt the crown?”

  “Because we’ve seen them,” a voice shouted from outside of the train.

  Jennie rose, moved between Worthington and Baxter, and looked down at a woman in a spectral set of silk pajamas. “Excuse me?”

  “We were there,” another specter called. “We battled the crown, and we lived to tell the tale.”

  Worthington’s eyes darted around the crowd as more specters took a step forward, confirming the story. “Don’t listen to them, Jennie. It could be a trap.”

  Jennie nodded gently. “Or it could be the truth,” she whispered. “I’ve seen a lot of liars in my time, and I know what that face looks like. Whether or not they’re misguided, these specters genuinely believe the crown is out to get them.”

  “But just think of what they’re suggesting,” Worthington urged. “To doubt the crown is treason.”

  “Only when you’ve pledged your oath,” Jennie replied. “None of these specters owe anything to the crown. All they’ve known is neutrality and the Spectral Plane.”

  Lupe interrupted their bickering. “I think I may be able to prove that what I’m saying is true.”

  Jennie’s eyes narrowed. “Let me guess. In exchange, I have to cut your bonds and set you free.”

  Lupe shrugged. “From one conduit to another, I swear this is no trick.”

  Jennie grimaced. “I’m no conduit, and I’m tired of all these oaths.” She reached down and cut Lupe free. “Guide me out of these rat tunnels and show me what you know.”

  Lupe rubbed his wrists and nodded. “You will not be disappointed. Soon, even you may see the truth behind the Winter Court’s veil.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  New York City, USA, Present Day

  Jennie raised a hand to shield her eyes as they exited the subway station.

  After leaving the abandoned passageways, the underground tunnels had been a lot busier than when they had gone down in the first place. It was now morning, which meant rush-hour commuters. As they climbed onto the subway platform, several men and women in pristine suits and holding briefcases muttered behind their hands and scoffed at their colleagues.

  Jennie ignored them all, keeping Lupe at arm’s length in front of her. At his request, a pair of Spectral Plane specters trailed behind them, their eyes fixed on Worthington and Baxter.

  As they had walked through the tunnel, Lupe had told them how he had never meant to get caught up in a feud between two spectral parties. At first, he had simply used his gift to gather knowledge from the dead, but after learning about oaths and experimenting with them, he had learned that he could assign specters to himself.

  “Why hide them from the mortals in the Spectral Plane?” Jennie had asked. “It would’ve made Tanya’s day to know your plans were working.”

  “I wanted to keep them out of danger,” he replied, squeezing through the turnstiles and out toward the stairs. “The more I learned about the Winter Court and their schemes, the more I knew I had to protect them. They helped me build my army, so at least I could keep them out of harm’s way.”

  “Would you please stop disrespecting Her Majesty?” Worthington huffed, glaring at Lupe. “She can hear, you know. She has abilities beyond anything you could conceive.”

  Jennie arched an eyebrow. He must be talking about a different queen.

  The sun was rising above the skyscrapers. It was another cloudless blue day. Jennie ignored the strange looks that she and Lupe got as he led her through the streets and away from the main hub of activity in the city.

  He took a left at the intersection, and they paused at the crossing. A red hand told pedestrians to wait. Baxter whistled and looked around the people waiting to cross. “I really need to come out in the daytime more. I forget how interesting people are.”

  The woman he stood inside shivered and adjusted her shawl.

  A car horn blared as a man with slicked-back hair and a stylish goatee sprinted across the road.

  “I guess someone has a wish to join the spectral side sooner than most,” Worthington side-mouthed. “Think we can get him to take his oath now?”

  Jennie chuckled. Lupe glared at him.

  As the lights changed, Jennie heard an engine revving. A red Ford Mustang Ecoboost sat with its engine idling as the driver, a man who looked like he was in the middle of his midlife crisis, belted out the middle section of Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody, clearly unaware that his car wasn’t soundproof and several pedestrians were laughing as his voice went high and low to match Freddie Mercury’s.

  Jennie whistled, pulling down her glasses to the bridge of her nose to get a look at the car. “Da-yum, that’s a pretty ride.”

  The man stared out of his windscreen and saw Jennie looking his way. He grinned, wound his window down, and put his elbow on the sill. “Hey, pretty lady. Wanna ride? You can hop in the car for a spin after if you like.”

  Jennie pushed her glasses back and smirked at his left hand, which rested atop his steering wheel. He had a silver band on his third finger. “I’m sure your wife would love that, wouldn’t she?” She crossed the street without another glance at him.

  The man blushed as several pedestrians sniggered and glanced his way.

  Jennie continued to the other side of the road, sparing one last look at the car. The pedestrian lights turned red before the Mustang revved and screeched around the corner.

  She made a mental note that should her visit to New York extend past its planned date, she’d explore options for vehicles.

  Lupe led Jennie toward Lower Manhattan, once more weaving between the thin, shadowed alleys between the blocks. Jennie caught sight of several rats and alley cats among the dumpsters and trash and found herself sighing at several homeless people nestled up and fast asleep in the dirt.

  A short while later, Lupe reached the mouth of an alley and paused. He waved an arm and motioned them ahead. “Here. Go ahead and find your proof.”

  Jennie nodded for Worthington and Baxter to guard Lupe while she went ahead. The alley was wider than some of the others, with several back doors that opened into a mix of international-inspired restaurants and diners. Jennie took a step back and looked up at the wal
l.

  A large spray of crude graffiti covered the wall’s surface. The paint was a dark crimson that looked like blood, and in the places where the letters curved and joined, blots of paint had dripped down the wall.

  Jennie’s stomach tightened. The words read, “Long live the paranormal court. Kill the revolters,” and were finished off with what could only be described as a child’s drawing of Queen Victoria’s crown.

  Revolters?

  Jennie searched her mind, wondering what this could mean. She had never experienced anything like it. Specters had always been secretive about their work and life beyond death. Nearly all specters liked the secrecy their new life brought. Aside from poltergeists, mortals hardly ever came into contact with the denizens of the afterlife.

  “Well?” Worthington called from down the alley. “Have you found anything?”

  Jennie took a breath and beckoned them all toward her. Baxter and Worthington remained behind Lupe as he walked over to the art. Lupe’s personal specters seemed hardly to notice, while Worthington and Baxter groaned.

  “Well, that’s not good,” Baxter grumbled.

  “Not good?” Worthington looked fit to burst. “Do you realize what this is? This is blasphemy. This is treason. This is…”

  He whirled on Lupe. “This is your doing. You’re planting ideas in her head, aren’t you? Defaming the prestige of the one true ruler of the paranormal for the sake of your rebellion.”

  Lupe shook his head, eyes wide. “No, I did not. What possible reason would I have to paint this? You think I planned this? Made a backup plan in case the woman who was trampling around New York caught us, and I needed to trick her? What kind of pre-planning would that take?”

  “Something stinks,” Worthington insisted.

  “We are standing by trash,” Baxter replied.

  Worthington ignored his comment and turned to Jennie. “You don’t believe this nonsense, do you? The Spectral Plane is the enemy, and they’re feeding us this bullshit like it’s going out of date. Give them a few more days, and they’ll have you convinced that our queen tricked us all into slavery, and the world is nothing more than her plaything.”