The Black Knights

by Matilda Reyes

  Nicholas hesitated then shook his head. “It can wait.”

  Thank the gods. I couldn’t handle another bombshell like the whole love thing although I couldn’t think of anything bigger or more important than that. I prayed that he absorbed as much as possible in the next few short hours. He needed it, and we needed him to stay safe.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  The call finally came. Our hunch was right. The cult was meeting at the warehouse the following evening, and Nicholas was invited. They didn’t have the courtesy to send an agenda, the jerks, so we could only guess what was to happen. I pulled our best strategic minds together for a planning meeting. Jordan, Hernandez, Voss, and Jones surrounded me at a small table.

  “We’ll plant microphones and cameras at the high windows we looked through earlier today,” said Voss. “It’s too risky to send Nicholas in with a wire. If Brett is telling the truth, they’ll pat him down as soon as he walks in.”

  Jordan nodded. “They’ll have men stationed at the doors, so we’ll have to keep our distance. If something happens, our only options will be to go through the ceiling and rush through the men at the doors. It’s not ideal.”

  “My concern is that we don’t know how many of the attendees will be armed,” said Jones.

  I tilted my head to one side and tapped my chin with a finger. “If I remember, assignments are handed out at these meetings. Things that will lead toward the next ritual. Seems like there will be a lot of people prepared to kidnap and steal. Assume they’re all armed.”

  “If I were Carlo, this is the venue I’d choose. It’s off the beaten trail, set up for a large group, and has enough space for a demonstration,” said Hernandez.

  “What do you mean?” asked Jones.

  “Well, I’ve only met the man once, so I can’t say that I know him. But I’d want to rev everyone up with some reminder of why we’re doing this. Maybe a mini-sacrifice, some show of abilities.” He shrugged. “It’s something to consider.”

  “Which means we might have innocents in the way,” said Jordan. “Shit.”

  “Our goal is to keep Nicholas safe while we collect information. We want to find out all of Carlo’s plans. We can’t just stop one ritual. Who knows if he has a trusted second-in-command ready to jump in and take the reins? We have to take the whole operation down,” I reminded them.

  Jones outlined the perimeter we’d drawn and arranged stickers with the names of each of our team members. “Where will you be?”

  “Ready to rush the door,” I said. “I’m not staying behind.”

  “You’re not healed,” said Hernandez. “You should let Nicholas do a little healing work on you before we leave if you don’t mind me saying so.”

  I ignored the twinge on my side. “Don’t fuss. I’m fine.”

  He sighed, said his goodbyes, and retreated for the night with Jones. Voss messed around with the team pairings for another few minutes before calling it quits. It was midnight, and I was a firm believer in having a well-rested team. I would have instated a curfew if they hadn’t been so disciplined about getting to bed.

  Jordan sat next to me.

  “What is it now?” I asked. “Did I forget something?”

  “No. You’re doing a great job. I want to know how you’re feeling.”

  I leaned back. “Okay, I guess. Nervous. Nicholas has come a long way in the week we’ve been here. I worry about Candice. She’s weird. Marin is more reserved around me. They’re weak links. Brett is a wild card. There are too many ways this can go wrong.”

  “Agreed. But you’ve covered your bases. All you can do is wait for it to unfold and trust your team to react. We’ve prepared for every situation.”

  “What if we missed something?”

  “Then we’ll improvise. The team is solid. You’re right about Candice. She watches you when you’re not looking and doesn’t speak much. It’s not like her. Marin is her friend, so whatever’s bothering Candice might affect her too. Or,” he said, running a hand along the beginnings of a scruffy beard, “she could still be in shock from whatever you did to Brett. Either way, she’ll have to get over it.”

  “What if Nicholas isn’t ready?”

  “He’s as prepared as we can make him. That will have to suffice.”

  I stifled a yawn. It had been a long day, and I had this inexplicable urge to curl up next to Jordan and rest my head on his shoulder. His willingness to talk through these issues was invaluable. He didn’t question my sanity or fuss over me. He centered me and made me feel like I wasn’t about to lead fifteen people to their deaths. He was there. Just there.

  His lips curled into a crooked smile. “Do I need to carry you to bed?”

  I stuck my tongue out at him. “Hilarious. Is the plan sound? Are there glaring flaws?”

  “Nicholas will have more protection than any undercover operative I’ve worked with over the years. You have a solid team. You’ve prepared for contingencies. You’re good. But you forgot one thing. Where you go, I go. Put yourself wherever you think I’d best be used.”

  “You don’t have to watch my back at every moment.”

  “Uh-huh. Keep me close enough to get to Nicholas if things go sideways.” Jordan inched closer and closer until our knees touched. “You want him safe, so I’ll keep him safe.”

  “That’s the mission,” I said, my throat dry. I wanted to do a hell of a lot more than lean on him, the way he tilted his head toward me and smiled.

  “I’m proud of you. Get some sleep. You’ll be a nightmare if you don’t get at least six hours. I’ll have coffee ready before our run.”

  I stumbled out of my chair and fell into bed, feeling guiltier than I’d ever had. Nicholas loved me. At least, he was infatuated with me. And I was having bad, bad thoughts about a man obsessed with my safety.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  FOURTEEN ASSASINS AND NICHOLAS stood around a large map. We’d reviewed the plan twice, and I wanted to discuss it one final time.

  Nicholas raised his hand. “Brett and I are driving together. What if he tries to bail?”

  “Kill him,” Smith responded. “We’ll handle the body, and we’ll work out a new cover story.”

  He gaped. “Kill him?”

  “It won’t come to that,” said Jordan. “Brett has learned his lesson. Hasn’t he?”

  Brett nodded from his spot in the far corner. “I will follow the plan to the letter. You will not get any trouble from me.”

  “Questions?” I asked. When the team remained silent, I clapped my hands once. Everyone dispersed and gathered their weapons. Mikael would stay behind and coordinate from the house. He’d keep track of people and vehicles. He’d have an eye on the tracker in Nicholas’ shoe.

  Nicholas walked over and wrapped his arms around me in a tight hug. “I’ll be fine,” he said.

  “You remember everything? All you have to do is signal us, and we’ll pull you out. I’ll be at your side in seconds.”

  “I know. You’ve got over a dozen guys who are a walking armory watching my back. I’ve got you right outside. I’m not worried. You shouldn’t be.” He pressed his lips to my forehead. “Don’t worry. I’ll make you proud.”

  I pulled away, well aware of Jordan watching us, if not everyone else. I didn’t want to let him down, no matter how easily, when we were so close to game time, yet I couldn’t allow that closeness for my sake. “Don’t jinx it.”

  He laughed. “Fine. Let’s say that I’ll follow the rules and stick to the plan.”

  I smiled. “It’s time. Let’s go kick ass.”

  “See you on the other side.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  From the passenger seat of the rented blue sedan, I had a clear view of the front door of the warehouse. In Glendale, a small city just north of Los Angeles, the squat building blended into the abandoned industrial park. From what Voss and his team had determined, the windows installed on the roof looked down into a pit. The upper floors were accessed through stairs and walkways that conne
cted to several offices. A dirt-covered white truck was parked in the docking bay. I shuddered. It reminded me too much of the warehouse where I’d had my first battle and died. Or nearly died.

  My leg jiggled as I waited for Brett and Nicholas to appear. They were the last of our team to show up and were due any moment.

  “Stop with the leg,” said Jordan. “It’s annoying.”

  “Can’t help it. I’m nervous.”

  “No point in feeling anything right now. What’s going to happen will happen. We have to react according to one of our many plans.” He adjusted the seat back to give himself more leg room.

  “They’re entering the building,” said Hernandez in our earpieces.

  “Shit. They found something on Brett. Who the hell gave him a weapon?” asked Jones.

  “Me,” said Marin, walking past our car toward her post down the street. “He said that they wouldn’t believe him if they came in unarmed. I rode with them to ensure the safety of our operative. He’s fine.”

  “You’re so dead when this is over,” I growled. “One of them hugged Brett and ushered them in.”

  Mercer spoke from his position on the roof. “Microphone and camera are in place. I’m turning them on now.”

  A low hum of conversation filled our ears as the warehouse filled up. Throughout an hour, roughly thirty men and women trickled into the ample space. What made them stand out was their absolute blandness. I wouldn’t have been able to point any of them out in a lineup for their generic looks.

  “Nicholas is making his way over to stand under the microphone. He picked up a can of soda and some chips like everyone else. We should hear him in a minute,” said Graves from his spot on the far side of the thick windows.

  Jordan leaned closer and angled his phone so we could both view the video feed. Nicholas and Brett were under the minuscule camera that Mercer had attached to the small opening in the roof. Nicholas scratched the back of his head to signal that he was ready to start the charade.

  “Brett and I met in San Francisco,” said Nicholas. “I was looking for a way out. A friend brought me in.”

  “Oh?” said a slim brunette woman with hawkish features. “And you and Brett just hit it off?”

  Nicholas shrugged. “I’m one of those people who gets along with everyone. Brett told me that the real action was down here if I wanted to get more involved. I have family in Los Angeles, so I thought it was time for an extended visit, at least until I figure out where I belong.”

  “He’s convincing,” murmured Jordan. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think he believes what he’s saying.”

  The woman sniffed. “You lived and worked at headquarters. Why should I believe you?”

  His voice hardened. “I’m not the only one to leave. Hell, the entire High Council turned and left the Order. Don’t you think that their departure made people think? Question our purpose? Why are you here?”

  “None of your business,” she snapped.

  “Whatever.” Nicholas turned away and joined another conversation. He introduced himself and smiled as a group talked about the thrill of their first kidnapping. “Have you taken part in a ritual yet? I’ve heard it’s like nothing you’ve ever seen.”

  A pasty, doughy man in his mid-forties crossed his arms and jutted his chin. “Why do you want to know?”

  “I’m here because I want things to change. Everyone knows about the rituals. I haven’t seen them, and I’m curious.”

  “No,” said another man, this one in his early twenties with tattoos covering most of his exposed skin. “The next one will be our first. You showed up at the right time.”

  Nicholas hummed with excitement. “Yeah? That’s great. After San Francisco, I’m revved up to do whatever it takes.”

  “Slow down,” said Jordan, knowing that Nicholas couldn’t hear him. “Don’t look so eager.”

  My stomach tightened. Nick’s behavior bordered on too interested, the reaction that only someone with an agenda had. He was close to giving himself away.

  “Anything?” asked the tattooed guy.

  Shrugging, Nicholas cocked a half smile. “Within reason. I don’t know what will be asked of me. All I’m saying is that when I commit to something, I dive in.”

  Nolo, Brett’s friend, walked to the front of the dusty warehouse and climbed up on a small box. He was a compact man, no taller than me. Atop the box he stood on, he was about as tall as the biggest man in the room, somewhere around seven feet.

  “Welcome, everyone. Thanks for being patient. Our leader, Carlo, couldn’t be here tonight, but his second-in-command, Vernon, has offered us his presence. Grab a seat because you’re in for a real experience.”

  The hawkish woman hurried over to Nolo and gestured for him to bend down. She whispered in his ear for a long moment. He nodded.

  “Also, we have a new visitor here tonight. He came to us by way of San Francisco before they got raided. Let’s give Nicholas a warm welcome.”

  The group offered an anemic round of applause as Nicholas responded with a little salute from his chair. Brett whispered in his ear, but Nicholas didn’t answer. The microphone wasn’t strong enough to pick up their faint conversation, dammit.

  To my surprise, Nolo spent a good fifteen minutes covering administrative issues, like dues and attendance requirements. Those who weren’t up-to-date on their responsibilities would be left out of the upcoming rituals. The weekly social was canceled for the next two weeks because of a scheduling issue, and phone tree was being updated.

  In my ear, various team members muttered all sorts of sarcastic and unflattering nonsense about their organization. We hadn’t expected the cult to be this structured. It was worse than I’d feared. Taking down Carlo wouldn’t be enough. We had to destroy the entire system.

  After a painfully long time, Nolo introduced Vernon, their number two man. Vernon reminded me of my high school principal, congenial and annoying. He wore a pair of khakis with a white oxford and a sweater vest. A pair of glasses were perched on his straight nose. His thinning hair was cropped close to his scalp.

  “When God said, ‘Let there be light,’ He created Darkness. He wanted a polar opposite to resist. The push and pull of day and night, good and evil. That is the natural order of things. What was created, the Separator, Il Separatio, was an accident, an abomination. Equilibrium was never the plan. The battle was supposed to be unending where good triumphs over evil at the end of time. The angels were to fight the demons. We were not supposed to exist.”

  The crowd murmured appreciatively.

  “Maintaining the Cosmic Balance is anathema to human nature. We are good, or we are bad. We are evil, or we are pure. Yes, there are shades of gray, but we all fall along the spectrum. Perfect balance does not exist. No one is neutral. My friends, we, who have been cursed with abilities, should not fight to maintain the Balance. We should choose a side and fight for it. You will be judged not by which side you have taken but by whether you’ve taken a side at all. God punished the angels who did not make a choice in the battle against Lucifer. They were cast out and received no mercy because they did not want to fight. We, through the Order, choose not to fight for good or evil. We should be punished for following the Separator, Il Separatio. God or the Devil, those are our choices. And yes, they have abandoned us. They have left us flailing. It is a test! A time to rise and fight in their absence. Let humanity decide whether darkness or light will rule. We, those gathered here and worldwide, commit to bringing God and the Devil back to lead the fight, to lead us. We will commit atrocities in their names, so great that they will have no choice but to pay attention. We will bring them back and recommence the great battle.”

  Next to me, Jordan barked out a laugh. “Loonies, all of them.”

  Vernon placed a hand over his heart. “What we do will hurt. Our actions will change you but know you are fighting for the ultimate cause. We will bring them back, and we will let them destroy Il Separatio. Destroy the being that doesn’t allow the
natural order to flourish. Destroy the being that stifles man’s greatest urges and purpose. With you at our side, we will succeed.”

  The group burst out into applause, Nicholas slower than the rest.

  Vernon gestured for quiet. “I have been told that there are several new members among us, those who want to prove their loyalty to our cause. I am pleased to initiate them into our numbers. Stand up.”

  “Shit,” I said. “We didn’t plan for this. We have to get him out now.”

  “Easy,” said Jones in my ear. “I recommend moving toward the doors. We can take out the guards and get into position.”

  He made sense. If we run in we’d only snag a few low-level people. We would never get Carlo. “Fine. Agreed.”

  Jordan and I unbuckled our seat belts and climbed out of the car. He stretched and reached for my hand. We ambled across the street and headed down toward the back entrance of the warehouse. A stocky man with a neckbeard eyed us uneasily.

  “Keep moving,” he said in a gruff voice.

  Jordan held up his palms. “We’re just walking by. No big —” He didn’t finish the sentence. In a flash, he stepped behind the man and put an arm around his throat, cutting off his air, and lowered him to the ground. “Not dead.”

  Good. It was too early in the night to rack up a body count. We dragged the silenced victim to an overgrowth of weeds a few yards away and returned to the door. Mercer was still in our ear.

  “They dragged Nicholas and two others to their feet and are bringing them to the front of the room. He flashed the sign to wait.”

  “We hold,” I said, the knot in my stomach twisting and turning. It took all my willpower to lock my body down. I had to trust his judgment.

  “Vernon just pushed them to their knees.”

  “You want to join us?” asked Vernon, his voice rising. “You must prove your loyalty. You must prove that you’re willing to choose a side. Will you do what is necessary?”