by Alex Steele
“Agent Blackwell,” the lead magister said, pausing directly in front of me. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I am Marshal William Atticus.”
He extended his hand, but I ignored it, my eyes never leaving his face. “What do you need? We don’t get magisters in the IMIB offices very often.”
His mouth twisted in mock pity. “I’m afraid we are here for an unfortunate reason. I have to ask you to step aside.”
“I’m not going to be able to do that.” The mayhem magic churned in my chest. It was ready, and hopefully I’d be able to maintain control of it if this came to blows. I didn’t want to destroy the office along with the magisters.
Atticus’ face turned sour, his lips pinching together. “Agent Blackwell, you have no right––”
Bradley’s door opened behind me. “Stand aside, Blackwell.”
I turned slightly. “Sir, I won’t––”
“That’s an order.” He held my gaze with a serious expression, nodding once to confirm that was what he wanted.
This was the last thing I wanted to do, but I understood his reasoning. Even if we managed to get him out of here, we’d both be fugitives. He had a family, and if he cooperated, a chance of making it through this. As much as I hated it, not everything could be solved with a fight. Sure, we could win the battle. But a war was brewing, and we needed to be better prepared.
I stepped aside and the magisters swarmed in, slapping dampening cuffs on the Chief’s wrists. Bradley looked straight ahead, not showing the slightest hint of fear or hesitation. I’d never seen someone get arrested with such dignity.
Atticus led him toward the elevator with a firm grip on his arm, his eyes sweeping the room as if he dared anyone else to object.
Before they reached the elevators, the doors slid open, revealing Swift, Lopez, and IMIB Director Harland. None of the trio looked happy, but I’d never seen such an angry expression on the Director’s face. I’d also never seen her in the IMIB offices before.
Lopez grabbed Swift’s arm, holding her back from the group. She leaned in, whispering something in my partner’s ear that calmed her slightly.
Atticus glanced at Swift with an ugly smirk. I suspected he knew her.
The Director didn’t look at Bradley, but she did look at the Marshal with enough venom I was surprised he didn’t drop dead. “Atticus, what is the meaning of this?”
The sniveling man inclined his head toward the Director with a sickly smile. “The Lord High Chancellor signed the warrant for this man’s arrest personally.”
“Why was I not informed of this ahead of time?” she demanded, her eyes cold as they bored into him.
“Discretion was of the utmost importance in this situation due to the status of the individual the warrant was issued for,” Atticus replied, inclining his head once more. “The information was released on a need-to-know basis only.”
Director Harland approached Bradley, ignoring Atticus’ weak excuse. “I will have this sorted out by the end of the day, Amos.”
The Chief nodded once. “I appreciate that, Director.”
With one last hateful glance at Atticus, the Director stepped aside. The entire office watched silently as they loaded onto the elevator. Bradley continued looking straight ahead as the doors closed.
Swift looked back at me, the fury I felt reflected in her eyes.
Forty-Three
The sky was decorated in a riot of reds and pinks as the sun set. Lopez had returned to the Manor with us after Bradley’s arrest. Between that and Viktor’s disappearance, we were all on edge.
“The runehacker hasn’t been able to find anything definitive, so there’s still hope Viktor is alive,” Swift said, finishing her explanation of what we’d learned about the coroner’s disappearance.
“If he’s alive, I will kill him myself when I find him. Why wouldn’t he come to me for help if he was in danger?” Lopez threw her hands in the air, pacing the length of the parlor.
“Just a thought,” I said cautiously. “He might have been concerned about putting you in danger along with him?”
Lopez bared her teeth at me. “Do I look like I’m worried about a little danger? I’m a fucking IMIB agent.”
I raised my hands in surrender. “I’m not saying it was the right choice, just offering up a thought. He also said in the note not to search for him, and that he'd find us.”
“You have no way of knowing that note was even from him,” Lopez said with a growl. “That could have been from the fucking line cook trying to get you to leave and stop looking for Viktor.”
“What if it was him though? There must be a reason he would ask us to stop.”
“Would you stop looking for Swift because of some stupid note?” Lopez demanded, crossing her arms.
“That's different,” I muttered, not liking where this conversation was going. “Besides, I'm not suggesting we actually stop looking, just that it's likely he is alive.”
“Does he know where you live?” Swift interjected, giving me an annoyed look.
Lopez nodded. “He's been over a few times.”
Bootstrap raced into the room, interrupting our conversation. He was hugging his laptop to his chest like a security blanket. “There's someone approaching the Manor from the back of the property, and I'm detecting a shit ton of dark magic. I think they've found me. The Mage's Guild. They're here, oh my god. Should I run? Please don't let them kill me.”
“Slow down,” I said, my hand automatically going to the katana that used to hang at my hip. “How many are there?”
Lopez leaned in toward Swift and whispered, “Is he always this high strung?”
She nodded. “Always.”
“Just one that I can see. For now.” He plopped his laptop on the desk and pulled up the video surveillance of the abandoned gardens behind the house. A lone figure dressed in the black robes of a magister walked along the overgrown pathway. A hood obscured their face.
“If they were sending a team in, we wouldn't know until they stormed the Manor,” Swift said skeptically. She leaned in to take a closer look at the screen. “What are they carrying?”
I took a second look and noticed the bag she was referring to. It had been obscured by the robes at first glance.
“Probably tools to torture me with,” Bootstrap muttered.
Swift rolled her eyes. “They don't need tools for that. Stop being dramatic. I'll go see who this is.”
Lopez immediately moved to follow her. She had been tense since she got here, and looked ready to throw down. I felt a little sorry for the magister, or whoever that was.
“I'm coming with you.” I turned to Bootstrap.” Stay here and do not panic.”
“Is everything alright?” Yamashita asked from the doorway. “I heard someone scream a few moments ago.”
“That was a yell. A manly shout. It was not a scream,” Bootstrap said, frowning at Yamashita.
She raised a brow. “If you say so.”
“Mind waiting with the baby to make sure he doesn't die?” I asked as we walked out.
Yamashita snorted. “There's a reason I never had children, but I can watch him.”
“You all suck! I hope you know that!” Bootstrap shouted as the door swung shut behind us.
I jogged to catch up with Lopez and Swift. “Do you think it's a legitimate threat?”
“I'm going to assume they are until proven otherwise,” Swift said, her magic waking up and sparking around her.
Ever since I'd begun the training with Sakura, I'd become more sensitive to magic in general. I could sense a mage’s magical signature with little effort even if it was suppressed. Now that she was pulling on her magic with intent, it felt like walking next to a magical heat lamp. Lopez’s magic felt very strange. It was more contained, pulsing through her limbs like a heartbeat.
We half jogged through the Manor to reach the back entrance ahead of the mysterious magister. My nerves increased the closer we got. Despite my dismissal of Bootstrap's panic, I didn't
like unannounced visitors. And I liked them even less when they were magisters.
The Manor had a few exits that led into the garden. I led the group to the largest one; a set of double doors that opened onto a large porch that overlooked the sloping gardens. It had a great view of the overgrown backyard.
We could see the figure from where we stood, and they made no move to hide themselves or slow down. Now that I could see them in person it was obvious it wasn't a woman.
A growl rumbled out of Lopez's chest and she took a step forward, her nose twitching.
“Careful, we need to see what they want first,” Swift said, edging toward her.
“He better want to get down on his knees and apologize,” Lopez said angrily.
“What?” I asked in confusion.
The man stopped in front of us and threw back his hood. Behind the blood streaked across his face, I recognized him.
“Where the hell have you been, Viktor?” Lopez demanded, advancing on him.
Viktor frowned. “Did you get my note?”
“We got the one you left at that bar,” I said cautiously, a little worried by the hostility in Lopez’s expression. It felt a little like we were intruding on their fight, and I did not want to get in the middle of that.
“Then you should have known I would find you, like I said I would.” The necromancer looked truly baffled. To be fair, he had done what he’d said.
“Why did you leave Blackwell a note and not me?” Lopez asked through gritted teeth.
Viktor’s brows pinched even further together. “I knew you would turn to him for help, and so left a note I knew he would find. It was important you were not connected to all this.”
Lopez’s hands curled into fists. “Why? Because you have some stupid idea about protecting me?”
“No, because the Mage’s Guild still trusts you, unlike Blackwell and Swift. You will be a valuable resource in the coming months.” Viktor’s expression had grown wary, as if he were finally catching on that Lopez was mad at him. “Perhaps we should speak alone in a few minutes. I need to show the others this first.” He lifted the bag. “It would be better to do this inside.”
“Right this way,” I said, waving him inside with a fearful glance at Swift. She looked equally uncomfortable.
Forty-Four
Viktor set the black, leather bag on the kitchen table with a thud. It was heavier than it looked. “I had to retrieve this before I came here.”
As he opened the bag, a shout emanated from it. We all flinched, but Bootstrap let out a high-pitched squeal and toppled backward out of his chair.
“What the hell is that?” Bootstrap demanded from the floor.
Lopez covered her nose. As the sickly scent of formaldehyde hit me, I was glad I didn’t have her keen sense of smell.
Viktor reached in and lifted out a vaguely familiar head by its hair. The neck had been cleanly cut with no tearing of the skin at all. “This is Henry Patterson.”
The head wiggled in his grip, teeth snapping at Viktor. “Put me down! I don’t want any part of this!”
My stomach rolled at the sight in front of me. This was beyond disturbing. “What...why is it talking?”
Viktor sighed and pulled out a familiar oval, white orb. “Because of this.”
Swift hurried over, looking as queasy as I felt. “That’s exactly what we found on Adam Johnson before he exploded.”
“I discovered this is used while raising a person from the dead. As long as the undead have it nearby, they will appear alive, and will not decay. It appears the creator built in a fail-safe where they can remotely end the spell if the person they gave it to betrays them.” Viktor shook his head. “It is a perversion of necromancy.”
“And they don’t need the whole body?” Lopez asked, eyeing the still writhing head with distaste.
“No, only the head is necessary. In this particular situation, it makes him easier to control.” Viktor set down the white orb and picked up a black orb of the same shape with a number carved onto the back. “This is the remote for the orb. With it, I can force him to answer questions despite not being the one to raise him.”
“How exactly did you find out about all of this?” Swift asked.
“I was transferred to the project, and against my better judgment, found the task too distasteful to complete. The arrest of Chief Bradley was also a step too far.” Viktor put Patterson’s head back in the bag and he quieted down. “I have submitted to the evils of the organization I work for for too long. The sabotage I have continued behind the scenes is no longer enough.”
“Whose blood is that?” I asked.
“My guard’s, as are these robes,” he said, gesturing at this outfit. “It was necessary in order to get this out. I destroyed his head so that they will not be able to interrogate him.”
“Is the Mage’s Guild directly controlling this drug ring and these zombies?” Swift asked.
“Not quite, they still keep the organization separate. However, the highest-ranking members are all part of the IMIB and the Mage’s Guild,” Viktor said.
Swift shook her head, looking drained. “Do you know why they arrested Chief Bradley?”
“Only rumors. It appears to be a move against the Director rather than against the Chief himself. She has angered the Lord High Chancellor recently,” Viktor said, glancing suspiciously at Swift.
Anger clouded her face. “Just go ahead and say it, Viktor. I know you don’t trust me.”
Lopez looked up in surprise. “What are you talking about?”
“He thinks because the Chancellor is my father that I agree with what my parents have done, and that I would choose family over what is right,” Swift spat out.
Viktor’s face hardened. “I have seen it time and time again. Walking away from your family, especially one as powerful as your own, does not happen.”
“Yet I’ve done it.” Swift crossed her arms. “They’ve disowned me, and I intend on bringing them down, along with anyone else in the Mage’s Guild who is corrupt.”
“She’s telling the truth,” Lopez said, walking up next to Viktor and putting her hand on his arm. “I can hear a lie.”
“I’ve seen her commitment firsthand,” I added. I needed Viktor to trust her. We wouldn’t have a chance of making this work if our allies were fighting among themselves.
After a long moment, Viktor nodded. “Then I will extend you the same trust I have given to Lopez and Blackwell.” He held out his hand to Swift, who shook it firmly.
The tension in my shoulders relaxed slightly. This wouldn’t solve anything, but it was a start.
Swift turned back to the bag. “We need to tell Yamashita that we have Patterson. Well, at least part of him.”
“I agree.”
Viktor frowned. “Who is Yamashita?”
“She and Patterson were two mages that studied Moira after it was first discovered. We had just visited Yamashita when we discovered Patterson’s dead body, actually. She fled after our visit and was targeted by assassins,” I explained.
“Were they trying to kill her or take her head?” Lopez asked.
“Probably the latter,” Swift said.
“I’ll go get her.”
Bootstrap hurried after me, apparently eager to leave the room. “That is the creepiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
I snorted. “I honestly can’t disagree.”
“So, do you want me to look up all the info on Bradley’s arrest? I can probably dig up––”
“No, not yet,” I said, cutting him off before he could get started rambling. “You’ve already been worried about them getting too close. They’ll be waiting for you to try. We need to trust the Director for right now. What you can do, however, is keep a very close eye on Bradley’s family. All of them.”
Bootstrap nodded. “Got it, boss. I’ll do that while you handle the...talking head situation.” With a shudder, he jogged up the stairs ahead of me.
I walked to Yamashita’s room and knocked on h
er door.
She opened it a few seconds later, frowning when she saw my face. “What’s happened?”
“When Henry Patterson was killed, he was decapitated,” I said.
Her face paled. “Why are you telling me this?”
“A necromancer only needs one thing to raise the undead, and that is the head.” I sighed, scratching the back of my head. I hated delivering this kind of news. “It’s a long story, but one of the IMIB coroners retrieved his head from the people that killed him, and has brought him here.”
Yamashita clenched her jaw tightly together and looked away, composing herself. “And they have…he’s...been raised?”
I nodded. “He has, to a greater extent than most zombies. He is able to talk freely. They were interrogating him.” Her face paled and I quickly added, “Not in a painful way. The necromancers were able to control him through magic, forcing him to answer questions.”
“That is disgusting,” Yamashita said, pressing a trembling hand to her mouth.
“Yes, it is.”
She stared at the floor for a moment, then looked up at me. “You want me to talk to him, don’t you?”
“Only if you are up for it. It’s a hard thing to see, and it will only be harder since you know him.”
Yamashita took a deep breath, but nodded. “I’ll try.”
Forty-Five
Swift, Viktor, and Lopez were waiting silently for us in the kitchen, all staring at the bag like the head might jump out if they looked away.
Yamashita paused at the threshold. “Is he...in there?”
I nodded. “Yes, in the bag.”
A muffled noise came from the bag and she flinched. Patterson must have recognized her voice, or was simply complaining about his location.
“You must remember,” Viktor said, drawing her attention, “that your friend is dead. The physical body retains the memories of the deceased, but it is an echo of who they were. He does not feel real emotions, and he cannot be truly harmed.”
