“True,” confirmed Liberty.
“Maybe we need to distance ourselves more from it all. The fact that people have up and gone missing is yet another sign of how dangerous this can all be. My gut says you need to be extra careful and pull back and stay close to the house.”
“I’ve been a teacher’s assistant for Dr. Pasternak for three weeks now,” Liberty reminded her. “He’s hardly dangerous. Unless you count the risk of me dying from boredom or the fact he’s kind of strange. You know how some people will say a book is long and boring—like War and Peace? He just wrapped up weeks of discussing the actual War and Peace book. Now he’s on to another Tolstoy.”
“I don’t know,” said Daisy. “He’s more than just strange. Something bothers me about him.”
Liberty bit at her inner cheek. “I hear other students call him a silver fox. I don’t get it. I don’t find him sexy at all.”
Daisy laughed softly. “Oh, I see what they’re talking about. Technically, he is totally a silver fox, but he’s just…I don’t know. He bothers me, but I’ll give credit where it’s due. He’s hot.”
Liberty leveled a firm gaze on her friend. “If you say so.”
Daisy pointed at her. “The way I see you skirt around him in the hall and avoid standing too close to him says he more than just bores you. I think he kind of bothers you too on some level.”
Liberty did her best to dismiss her friend’s words, but they rang true to some degree. “Maybe, but he’s basically harmless. Just boring.”
Daisy did her best to hide her amusement. “I still can’t believe they stuck you in another department of the university as a teacher’s assistant. Why did they pick Russian literature for you? It’s not your major.”
“Because Dr. Pasternak’s other assistant left and I took the class as an undergrad,” grumbled Liberty. “Curse the advisor who told me to use it as a fill-in for my required language arts credits. I’ve now had to sit through a discussion on War and Peace twice. I’m sure this is a new form of torture. No cages and medical testing. Just a lot of Tolstoy. Also, while I’m at it, curse the person who thought Dr. Pasternak should be the professor in charge of the Slavic and East European studies master’s program. Couldn’t they have hired someone with a personality?”
Daisy lifted her arm, pretending to look at a watch on her wrist. “Ms. Mansfield, class started seventeen seconds ago,” she said in a deadpan voice.
It was Liberty’s turn to laugh, and laugh she did. Loudly. “Spot on,” Liberty said.
She grinned. “Had I not been in the hall to hear it, I’m not sure I’d have believed anyone could be that particular about time.”
“I don’t think he’s been late a day in his life,” said Liberty. “And I’m pretty sure his suit jackets are all from when he first started teaching. On a good note, they’re sort of back in style now thanks to the hipster craze.”
Daisy laughed so hard she teared up. “Does he still eat a bag of pistachios and then pick at his teeth while he’s in his office?”
Liberty made a gagging motion. “Yes. I used to like pistachios. Now I can’t even stand the smell of them.”
“Can’t really blame you,” she said, locking gazes with Liberty. “I know you hate being his teaching assistant for the rest of the semester, but we don’t have much left of it, thankfully. Bright side is, it’s almost over.”
“Look at how positive you are,” Liberty said. “See? You bring a sunny outlook to the table. That’s useful.”
“Make fun of me all you want,” said Daisy. “I’m allowed to worry and want you and Isobel safe. You’re like sisters to me.”
Liberty licked her lower lip. “I know, and you’re like one to me too, but we don’t live in the same world everyone else does. We know there is a dark, seedy underbelly. One most don’t know about. We also know that some of us are ticking time bombs. I’m dangerous, and we need answers.”
“You’re not dangerous,” protested Daisy.
“I am,” returned Liberty. “You know what I’ve done. What I’m capable of.”
“None of that was your fault,” Daisy insisted. “None of it.”
Liberty lifted her hand and stared at it. “What I can do when I lose control, it’s terrifying. I need answers. So does Isobel. You know she struggles too.”
“I worry, that’s all.” Daisy twisted more to face Liberty. “I think you’re right. We’re close to figuring it out. It’s been an emotional roller coaster. You know how I am. I’m either in tears or over the moon.”
It was funny because it was accurate. Daisy’s emotional scale tended to range between the two settings.
Liberty stared up at the ceiling as nervous energy built in her.
“Libs, I know that look,” said Daisy with a sigh. “It’s the look you get before you go on a baking spree. Anytime you’re anxious, we end up with so many baked goods we could open a shop or something.”
“I’m not that bad,” argued Liberty before realizing she was indeed that bad.
Daisy snorted. “Okay. Sure you aren’t. I like chocolate cake by the way—for when you’re not-that-bad later today. It freezes well. Be sure to save me some.”
“Noted.” Liberty sat up and sighed, reflecting on her dream, specifically the male voice she’d heard. “I wish I could remember more about our past.”
Daisy watched her. “Of the three of us, you remember the least. Do you think it’s because you don’t want to remember? What we went through wasn’t good. Something extra horrific happened to you at some point during it all.”
Liberty touched the scars on her face and lowered her gaze. “You think I don’t want to remember it all because it will mean I’ll remember how this happened?”
“They’re barely visible anymore, Libs.” Daisy took hold of Liberty’s wrist and drew her hand away from her face. “I’m saying that trauma can do a lot of things to a person. And sometimes, the mind does what it has to in order to get by. Also, I love you.”
With a groan, Liberty fell back onto her pillow. “Have I mentioned how much I’m not a fan of having you analyze me?”
Daisy smiled. “Yes. But it’s kind of my nature.”
It was also what Daisy wanted to do for a living. Currently, she was working on her PsyD (doctor of psychology) and interning at a local inpatient treatment center under the watchful eye of a psychologist. She was set to attend a conference with her coworkers that was going to last a week.
Liberty glanced at her friend. “Do your best to avoid analyzing Isobel when she drops you at the airport later today. You know how she gets.”
“That girl has more issues than Cosmopolitan,” said Daisy.
Laughing, Liberty nodded. “Are you supposed to say that?”
“Probably not,” replied Daisy with a wink. “It’ll be our little secret.”
“One of many.”
“I want in on the secret,” said a tall woman from the open doorway. She wore a black tank top with matching exercise pants. A red sports bra showed partially from under her shirt. If she owned an article of clothing that wasn’t black or red, Liberty had yet to see it.
Isobel’s face looked freshly washed so it was minus the normal thick black eyeliner and blood red lips. She had a number of tattoos, nearly all of them were somewhat spooky as far as Liberty was concerned. She had a thing for bats and had gotten a tattoo of one on her inner wrist a couple of weeks back.
“What are you two up to in here?” asked Isobel as she entered, coming right for the bed, crawling over Liberty, and making herself at home in the middle. She flipped her long hair back, whipping it into Liberty’s face. “Shit. Sorry.”
Liberty snorted. “Careful. You’ll put my eye out.”
Isobel grinned and then snuggled down on the bed, making herself comfortable. She glanced at the room and the floor. “Did I miss all the excitement?”
“You did. You got in kind of late tonight,” said Liberty.
Isobel nodded. “One of the computer labs had a v
irus sweep through and a server went out. I had to stay and help deal with it all.”
“Again?” asked Daisy. “That’s like the third time this week.”
“I know,” said Isobel.
Liberty eyed her friend. “You’re not the issue, are you? You didn’t create the virus or take out the server or anything, did you?”
“Not this time,” replied Isobel with a waggle of her dark brows. “I’m pretty sure it’s the government again. Fuckers are always trying to do sweeping data mines. Like we don’t know they want to be privy to our every movement and every word. Can’t have the sheep think for themselves. Might make them organize and demand better or something. Heaven forbid we rise up and demand better from them. Bastards.”
“Can’t you use your computer tech skills to fix our internet?” asked Daisy, not touching on the conspiracy theory or Isobel’s need to start a revolution.
“I wish,” responded Isobel. “Good news though. That telecommunications van is down the street again.”
“It’s a weird time of the night for them to be working on internet connections, isn’t it?” asked Daisy. “The sun won’t be up for a couple of hours yet. I thought burning the midnight oil was more of an electricity or gas utility thing.”
“No clue,” said Isobel. “Want me to go have words with them about how they’re in our neighborhood all the time anymore, yet we still have a crap internet connection and have for nearly three weeks?”
“Please don’t,” said Daisy.
“You’re worried I won’t be nice,” replied Isobel. “I’m nicer than Liberty when she gets worked up.”
“Fact,” said Liberty with a laugh because it was anything but true.
Isobel glanced at them both. “What if that van isn’t from the internet provider at all but is really full of government agents sent to spy on us? What if they’ve figured out that we’ve figured out that we’re something more than human?”
“That’s a whole lot of figuring out you’re asking us to do there,” said Liberty, hoping to cut the knees of the argument before it took root.
Isobel chuckled as well. “Did you two notice someone is moving in across the street?”
“Meaning you’re pissed you can’t park in their driveway anymore?” asked Daisy with a you-know-I’m-right smile.
Liberty struggled to keep from laughing.
Isobel’s car was her baby. She’d gotten it for her sixteenth birthday after spending several summers working at a junkyard. The owner had taken a shine to her and gifted her a non-running, 1950 convertible Mercury. Since her living situation had been questionable back then, he’d allowed her to keep it at the junkyard while she restored it.
Liberty had thought she was nuts and that the car would never be roadworthy. Isobel’s iron will had seen the vehicle go from a shell to pristine. Of course, she’d done some upgrades and had a few modifications that made it more her style. None of which had been costly since she’d restored it on a shoestring budget. It was pretty much black, red, and silver—totally Isobel.
“Maybe they won’t last long living there,” said Isobel. “Then I can park Elvira in the drive and off the street. I hate leaving her vulnerable. Wish we had a driveway.”
“We could speed that along,” offered Liberty. “You want to tell the new people the place is inhabited by a demon, or should I?”
Daisy laughed. “It’s not.”
“Yes, it is,” said Liberty and Isobel at the same time.
Daisy groaned.
“Hey, why do you think I hung a cross on Elvira’s rearview mirror?” asked Isobel.
Liberty eyed her. “Because you’re weird… and because the place across the street is totally inhabited by a demon.”
Daisy shook her head. “No. It’s not.”
“Explain the glowing orange eyes we’ve seen looking out from the upstairs window at us,” challenged Isobel.
Daisy snorted. “I’m not going to explain what has never been there. I’ve never seen any glowing eyes.”
“I have,” said Liberty. “It was super freaky. And we heard a bunch of weird sounds coming from there around that time. Snarling or something.”
“Yep,” said Isobel. “Demon. I’m sure of it.”
“Thankfully, there is no such thing as demons,” said Daisy.
“Bet people would say there are no such things as people who can start fires with their minds or throw things around with nothing more than a thought—yet here Liberty and I are,” countered Isobel. “And I think you know you’re something more than most people would think possible.”
“I’ll give you that, but it’s different,” said Daisy.
“How so?” asked Isobel.
Liberty tipped her head, wanting to hear Daisy’s rationale for there being no such thing as demons.
Daisy thought on it a moment. “Because our eyes don’t glow orange?”
“Yet,” said Isobel. “That’ll probably start next week.”
Liberty laughed. “I hope not. I have enough things to worry about as it is. There is a greater-than-average chance if I take a nap and have a bad dream, I’ll make our entire house float away into space or something.”
Daisy grunted. “Highly unlikely. Change of subject. Any word on who’s moving in and who wants to bet they don’t even last a month, since none of the other tenants have?”
“I’m not sure who’s moving in. All I know is the for rent sign is out of the window and that always means someone is about to move in. And I’m with Liberty on the whole haunted thing. I think a demon inhabits it, scaring away all who enter,” said Isobel.
“I agree. Also, I should really get a king-size bed,” joked Liberty, even though she was grateful they were there.
Isobel shook her head as Daisy repositioned herself slightly so that they all fit on the bed.
“Libs, did you have another bad dream?” asked Isobel.
“Yep,” replied Liberty while looking at her friends. “We’re a fine bunch, aren’t we?”
Isobel flashed a wide smile. “Misery loves company.”
Daisy stared at her. “Ever feel like we’re in way over our heads and that we have no idea what we’re doing or what we’re getting into?”
“I feel like we’re just winging it most days,” said Liberty. “But I also think we have to keep pushing onward. We need answers. We may not like them or really want them, but we need them.”
Isobel stared upward at the ceiling. “If for no other reason than to keep me from burning down another building and to keep Libs from flattening another trailer or sending our house into the stratosphere. When our emotions are high, we’re kind of shit at controlling whatever it is we do.”
Daisy grunted. “I just finished telling her that she wasn’t out of control. Here you come undoing all my hard work.”
Isobel side-eyed Liberty. “Otherwise known as telling the truth.”
“Let her be,” said Liberty with a grin. “She’s helping.”
Isobel blinked several times. “Did she analyze your feelings for you yet? Love it when she does that.”
“You’re kind of a butthead,” said Daisy, all while fighting a smile.
Isobel shrugged. “That’s not breaking news.”
They were all quiet for a bit, each clearly deep in thought.
Daisy was the first to speak. “Seriously, though, can you two promise to stay out of trouble while I’m at the conference? And don’t go poking around at the university looking for any more answers. I don’t want to come back to find my best friends are now lab experiments—again.”
“Why not?” asked Isobel with a deep laugh. “It was so fun the first time.”
Daisy rolled her eyes. “Yep. Butthead.”
Chapter Seven
PSI Division B Headquarters, location classified…
Rurik kept glaring at his captain as he sat in the therapy room, ready and willing to start eating anyone else who pissed him off.
Garth sniffed the air a second before he ro
lled his eyes, his attention going to the entranceway. “For fuck’s sake, it’s not bad enough I had to share a flight in with him, now I have to deal with him again?”
Auberi strolled into the room as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He took in the sight of the therapy equipment and frowned before looking in Rurik’s direction. “This has to suck. Pun intended.”
The vampire was a welcome relief. Something to take Rurik’s mind from the pain. Though Rurik highly doubted Garth saw the man’s arrival as such.
A lot had changed in a short span of time. Since Auberi was technically Garth’s father-in-law, killing each other was now out of the question.
Rurik stared between the men and managed to hold back a laugh as tensions rose.
“Why are you here?” asked Garth, his voice clipped. “I thought you had a meeting you were already late for.”
Auberi batted his lashes and blew Garth a kiss. “Admit it. You missed me.”
The therapist watched Auberi intensely, never once blinking.
He took notice of her and stiffened slightly. “You look as if you’re feeling better. Any more issues with nosebleeds?”
She grinned more. “Nope. I’m all better. How about you? How’s your head?”
Auberi’s brow knit.
She batted her lashes. “You mentioned you had a headache when I saw you earlier.”
“I did?” asked Auberi and then shrugged. “At my age it’s easy to forget. Though I’m not as old as the Viking. Amazing he knows his name.”
Garth looked at Rurik. “If he just happens to fall on a stake in here, back me up with my wife. Tell her it was an accident. Not that I did it.”
“Captain, he could actually fall on a stake without your aid and your mate would still think you did it,” said Rurik, earning him a laugh from the peppy therapist.
Garth grunted at Auberi. “Go away before you just so happen to fall on a stake.”
Auberi motioned to Rurik. “I am here for the bear. Not you.”
Act of Surveillance: Paranormal Security and Intelligence® an Immortal Ops® World Novel (PSI-Ops/Immortal Ops Book 7) Page 7
