Rogue, Renegade And Rebel (In Her Paranormal Majesty’s Secret Service Book 1)
Page 34
She turned back to Camo, red-faced and breathing heavily. Several of the pedestrians watching awkwardly turned away, thinking that they were perhaps witnessing a mental breakdown of some sort.
Camo laughed darkly. “Your fight will come, Rogue. Don’t you fret about that. Worthington is amassing his forces. All this city needs is a sweep of fire to destroy everything that stands in our path. You have twenty-four hours before you die. Don’t waste a second of it.”
Camo turned and began walking away. The others joined her.
Jennie marched forward, pushing past civilians and almost knocking the phones out of several of their hands.
She latched onto Camo with her power and made her turn.
Camo laughed, not in the least bit afraid. “C’mon, Rogue. Do you really need to resort to cheap tricks?”
“Twenty-four hours it is,” Jennie told her. “Name your place, and we’ll be there.”
“Right here, silly,” Camo replied. Her eyes darted to the clock. “Sorry, I mean twenty-two hours.”
Jennie released her hold on Camo and watched the specters walk away. Lupe and Baxter came up beside her and glared at the specters as they disappeared into the surrounding buildings.
“Twenty-two hours? That doesn’t leave much time,” Baxter moaned.
Jennie shook her head. “No. No, it doesn’t. But we’ll be ready for them, no matter what happens.”
She turned to make her way back to the other specters and was bombarded by people holding cameras up to her face. She grabbed the nearest bystander by the wrist, a man in his late twenties, and ripped the phone from his hand. She looked directly into the camera and said, “Cheese,” then tossed it back to him and marched away to the sound of gentle applause.
Chapter Forty-Two
Red Hook, Brooklyn
They crossed the Brooklyn Bridge and followed the 478 until they were in the heart of Brooklyn. It was just past two AM, and the streets were almost empty. Just a few stragglers remained, mostly residents of the area staggering home from an evening in their favorite local bar.
They came off the turnpike and headed into the borough, leaving behind the skyscrapers and tower blocks in exchange for factories and four-story redbrick apartments.
Cars choked the sidewalk. Jennie drove cautiously in her Mustang, the car exhaust subdued. If it hadn’t had been for the streetlights littering the streets, they would have been all but invisible.
At Lupe’s instruction, she took a right at the next intersection. The abandoned grain terminal appeared in front of them like the rusty shell of a beached ship. Its façade was covered in brown stains that were visible even in the moonlight, and the windows were all shattered and broken.
Jennie nodded, impressed. The building, if it was truly abandoned, was going to make an excellent hideout for the Spectral Plane before tomorrow’s showdown.
They turned off the street and toward the forgotten traffic barriers, where Lupe hopped out and raised the bar high enough that the car could pass beneath it.
Jennie found a place around the back and parked the car. She got out and paused to admire the building from the outside. “Are you sure this place is secure?”
Lupe shrugged. “No. But, then again, is anywhere these days? My specters have searched across the city for a suitable location, and this is what they’ve found.”
“Do you trust them to keep their oaths to you?” Jennie asked.
Lupe nodded. “I do.”
Jennie nodded in return. “Then that’s good enough for me.”
Jennie had known that the majority of the Spectral Plane specters who hadn’t been on recruitment or sentinel duty had been slowly migrating over to the building throughout the day, but even she hadn’t expected to see so many gathered together.
In the subways, the various tunnels and platforms of the underground rail system made it difficult to gauge the mass of specters in their full force.
Jennie walked into the abandoned mill and the former processing floor opened up before her, filled wall to wall with hundreds of specters.
They filled the massive floor space, and more lined the rails on the walkways above. Some stood on old tables and chairs, while others looked at the congregation below from the office windows.
Lupe smirked. “Welcome to the light side.”
Jennie raised an eyebrow. “Star Wars? Again with the same quote?”
Lupe cast his eyes to the floor. “I’ve got a confession.”
“What’s that?” she asked skeptically.
“I’ve never seen the films.”
Before Jennie could open her mouth to retort, several specters spotted the new arrivals and shouted, “They’re here! Guys, they’re here!”
Cheers exploded around them. Specters clapped and whooped and hollered, filling the air with raucous noise.
Jennie and Lupe burst into laughter, delighted by the reception. Carolyn, Feng Mian, and the other specters who had clung onto the roof and the back of the car joined in the applause. Jennie pulled Lupe forward, walking through the specters until they reached a raised platform in the middle of the building.
Specters scrambled off to allow them room. Jennie leaned in to whisper to Lupe as the cheers began to die down, “Your message spread fast.”
Lupe winked.
Jennie raised her hands, then lowered them. The noise dropped off as though she’d dialed down a giant volume button.
Jennie spoke when the room was quiet enough for her to be heard. “Specters of the Spectral Plane, I can’t thank you enough for banding together and joining us here. Uprooting from your headquarters and making your way—”
“Let Lupe speak!” one specter called through cupped hands.
Another chimed in. “Yeah, we want Lupe!”
Lupe flushed red. Jennie looked at the spectral conduit and realized that while it was her leading the fight, it was to Lupe they had all pledged. Their oath to the Spectral Plane had all begun because of the scarred Latino man standing in their midst. Of course, they wanted to hear from their leader.
Jennie took a step back and nudged Lupe forward, a grin on her face.
Lupe spread his arms in welcome. “Friends and specters of the Spectral Plane—”
“They’re here?” Tanya appeared through a door at the side of the room before Lupe could get another word out. Her blood-red cloak swirled behind her as she swept in, followed by several mortals who Jennie recognized from her building in Midtown.
Tanya beamed as she danced through the crowd, her skin prickling as the spectral touch chilled her very marrow. Rather than protest at her sudden chill, she delighted in the feeling, twirling her way to Lupe on the stage. “They’re everywhere, aren’t they? I can feel them!”
Several specters chuckled. There were murmurs of, “Ha! Mortals.”
“Yes.” Lupe laughed. “You’re passing through them all right now.”
Tanya looked suddenly devastated. Her hands went to her mouth. “I’m so sorry…” Her voice raised as if speaking to someone hard of hearing. “I didn’t mean to tread on you. If I hurt you, please forgive me. It was never my intention.”
Now the whole crowd was in pieces. Specters clutched their stomachs as they doubled over with amusement. A few waved their hands in Tanya’s face. The crowd laughed harder when the mischief-makers moved to occupy the same space as her and extended their arms to float out of her to make her look like a strange half-octopus, half-human.
Lupe grabbed Tanya’s hand and pulled her onto the stage.
“As I was saying.” Lupe chuckled. “Brothers and sisters of the Spectral Plane, thank you for joining us here and for uniting under the banner of independence, freedom, and liberty.”
“Someone’s been hitting the thesaurus,” Baxter whispered to Jennie.
“Guess he only clicked on one entry,” Jennie replied, hiding her smile.
“This city is in grave danger,” Lupe continued. “For years, we have been at peace, a place where the crown loyalists and
neutrals walked side by side without friction. The queen’s touch was light. Her grip on our country was lax. But now she has recalled her lost land and wishes to assert her sovereignty over our city.”
A chorus of boos rang out from specters with their hands cupped around mouths. Others punched the air, calling for war.
“We do not want a war,” Lupe stated, quieting the crowd with his hands. “You do not want to fight your brothers and sisters. But now that our hand has been forced, it is in the interests of not only the specters in New York but specters all across America to step up and show the crown that tyranny will not continue to be tolerated here.”
“Right!” a specter shouted.
“Down with the queen!” another cried.
“We fought off the British once, we can do it again!” a man shouted from a huddle of specters wearing Colonial gear in the middle of the crowd. Several of them held muskets.
That got the crowd going. “We can follow the steps of our forefathers and cut off the arm that’s choking our country and won’t let go.”
More affirmative cries rang out.
“Now, Spectral Plane…”
“And neutrals!” George and Sally called from the back of the room. “Don’t forget us!”
Several people clapped from various pockets around the room. Jennie was impressed at the number of neutrals who had followed them to the mill.
“I wouldn’t forget the neutrals.” Lupe smiled. “It is time we band together and prepare ourselves for the fight. The crown loyalists will not abandon their mission easily, and we must not abandon ours. We have already seen that they fight dirty. We must be prepared to give everything we have to ensure we emerge victorious!”
“We’ll be ready!” a woman shouted from near the front. “Whenever they choose to bring the thunder, we’ll be waiting to bring the pain. With time, we can unite more specters, add the non-partisan to our side. We can do this.”
Lupe swallowed.
Jennie stepped forward and rescued him from delivering the difficult news. “While time would be a gift beyond description, it is not our ally tonight.” As she spoke, a hush fell over the crowd. All ears—spectral and mortal—bent toward her. “We have been delivered the news that the crown will send their forces to attack by midnight tonight.”
Another ripple of murmurs pulsed through the crowd. Several of the mortals in the Spectral Plane waited for someone to speak, unaware of the specters’ chatter.
“They will hit Times Square at midnight. That is what they’ve told us.”
“How do we know they’re telling the truth?” a specter asked skeptically. “What if it’s another trap?”
Jennie recognized the specter as the gowned man who she had met at the hospital morgue a week prior.
Lupe looked at Jennie again.
“Because after a hundred years of dealing with the paranormal court, I know a little something about their methods and they’re going to come in hard. They wouldn’t goad us like this if they didn’t intend to strike with everything they have. They want us there so they can take us all on at once. They have numbers on their side, and they will use that advantage to break us piece by piece if they can.”
An uncomfortable silence settled over the crowd.
“But we are ready for them,” Lupe reminded them. “We have surprises up our sleeves that can catch them off-guard. Trust in me, and trust in yourselves. We have a secret weapon.”
“What’s that?” one of the mortals blurted.
Jennie grinned. “Me, of course.”
Chapter Forty-Three
The Empire State Building, New York City
Everything was going according to plan.
Worthington’s unit had delivered the message to Rogue, the girl was in their grasp, and recruitment was thriving. Over the last two days, the upper stories of the Empire State Building had grown progressively crowded with specters from all over the city uniting to come and join his purpose.
It was so easy. With a little gentle persuasion, a dollop of name-dropping, and a dash of fear mixed in, Worthington’s men had created the perfect cocktail to unite all of the specters loyal to the crown under his banner.
They had come in droves, drawn out of their hiding places with only one intention in mind—to defeat the usurpers and restore the queen’s rule on the city.
The queen had no idea that Worthington, the underappreciated beefeater who yearned to be by her side, had completed all of this himself. While living in London, he had always felt inferior and was never sure that he had what it took to lead.
But now…
Now he was surrounded by those who would obey his every whim. Aside from a few resilient specters who still eyed Worthington suspiciously, he was surrounded by the strongest and most loyal specters he could find.
What was that line I was once told? “Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.”
That was all bullshit. Why surround yourself with those you hate, when you can just as easily manipulate those who adore you to protect you from anyone who might bring you harm?
Only a few moments ago, Kerrin Lockworth, a specter who had served for years in the territorial army in her mortal life and now roamed her spectral life in a camouflage top, had come and reported that her mission had been successful. Rogue and her followers had received her message, and would no doubt now be panicking about what was to come the next day.
“Don’t you think it’s a little bit risky, boss?” Vinnie asked, arms folded as he stood by Worthington’s side.
Worthington had come to realize Vinnie was incapable of standing on his own two feet after the exorcism of the Messino brothers. Like many of the specters after the situation in Brooklyn’s abandoned theater, he needed someone to hold his hand and tell him what to do.
Works perfectly for me.
Worthington looked at Vinnie, who withered under his glare, leaving Worthington with a sense of smug satisfaction. “War is a risk. You don’t enter a conflict and expect everyone to come out smiling and shaking hands. We have pushed them into taking action. What should take them weeks to assemble, they now have less than a day to do so. They will be rushing. People make mistakes when they rush. Besides, we outnumber them five to one.”
Worthington rose to his feet and looked out of the glass office door toward the room packed with specters. Although they were entertaining themselves and preparing for the fight ahead, they were losing their patience. He was reminded of the lions he had seen at London Zoo, and how they paced the edge of the cage in the hours before feeding time.
Soon…
“You’re right. Apologies, sir.”
“Sir?” Worthington grinned. I’ll never get tired of hearing that.
Worthington laced his fingers behind his back and made his way to the adjacent wall. He walked through the drywall and emerged on the other side, where several specters wearing ghostly scrubs hovered over the sleeping girl. “Any update?”
A nurse with a thick beehive of dark hair and half-moon glasses stood straight and shook her head. “Nothing so far. It doesn’t make sense to me. All of her vitals are as they should be—well, as normal as they can be for specters—but she doesn’t seem ready to wake yet. It’s almost like she’s stuck in a—”
“Coma?” Worthington asked.
“Kind of stasis,” the nurse corrected. “It’s difficult to apply human terms to those who are not human. I’d go so far as to suggest that perhaps she’s in an invisible cocoon.”
“Oh, please,” one of the medical professionals across from her scoffed. He looked as though he had made it into his senior years before kicking the bucket. His face was gaunt, with thick dark eyebrows and wisps of hair around his chin.
“What?”
“I realize you died forty years prior to when real medicine was invented, but let’s not make stuff up for the sake of saving face.”
Beehive glared at the old man. “Just because medicine has advanced, doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”
“Enough,” Worthington barked. “We are hours away from our attack, and we still have no idea who this girl is and what she does. You haven’t even worked out a way to wake her up yet. Why are you wasting time on this childishness?”
The lights above flickered. The doctors and nurses shrunk under his shadow.
“We’ll work it out, I promise.” The elderly man looked less than confident in his words.
“Make sure you do,” Worthington warned darkly. “I’m not sure what this girl has to offer, but it could benefit us greatly. Why else would she have been trapped in rock, and why else would the enemy have sought her?”
Worthington exited the room, leaving the flummoxed doctors to their work. Time was growing short, and soon his victory would come with or without the girl. As he wandered through the throng of specters covering three full floors, now, he began to wonder.
Would he even need to return back to England? After everything was said and done in the States, maybe Her Majesty would allow him to run New York as her primary ambassador. A ruler in his own right? He was discovering that fear and power became him.
They became him very well.
Red Hook, Brooklyn
Jennie was awoken by thick beams of sunlight bursting through the gaps in the roof. They stung her eyes, pawed at her like an impatient lover. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, then checked her phone.
Six-thirty AM. She had hardly slept.
Jennie felt dreadful. She looked around the old mill and yearned for the minibar in her Plaza suite. To be able to play with the sweet ingredients contained within and make some concoction while she processed the events of the last few days.
Mixing perfect cocktails was escape therapy for Jennie. A way to stretch her creative muscles and please her taste buds. It had never been about getting drunk, although sometimes that part was more than welcome. It allowed her to get out of her own head and enter the creative zone.