Outbreak

by Annabel Chase

  “I have information that might help,” he announced. “Where are the others?”

  “Cerys is returning a couple of the books to make room,” I said. “Mia is asleep.” They’d traded places about an hour ago. It was my turn next, but if Robin had information we could act on, then I’d be skipping my naptime.

  “What’s the news?” Cerys asked. Despite her recent sleep, she appeared exhausted. I knew it had to be harder for her, having been the victim of a kidnapping last year. No doubt Bryn’s disappearance brought up all sorts of emotional issues for her. I knew she’d decided to schedule extra sessions with Alana in light of this triggering event.

  “We’ve identified the Samodivas you saw in the museum,” Robin said.

  “That’s fantastic news,” I said. “How?”

  “My new boss at the AMF was able to provide a copy of the file,” Robin said. “It didn’t require top clearance so she had no problem sharing.”

  “But you haven’t even started yet,” I said.

  “All my paperwork is complete, though,” he said. “I just need to go through orientation.”

  I blinked in disbelief. “I can’t believe you’re going to be an analyst. All this time you were preparing to be a Warden of the West.”

  “We all know that role wouldn’t have suited me,” he said.

  “What about the path to becoming a Justice?” I asked.

  “I’m not giving up on that,” Robin said. “It’s not impossible to come from an analyst position and become a Justice.”

  Cerys pulled out a chair and sat beside me. “What’s the story with the Samodivas? Are they criminals?”

  “They do have a history, although nothing too terrible,” Robin said. He adjusted his bow tie but only managed to make it crooked in the opposite direction. “They were convicted of exceeding their visits to Terrene.”

  “Did they serve time?” Cerys asked.

  “No. Community service only,” Robin replied. “They finished their sentence a year ago.”

  I drummed my fingers on the table. “You’re right. That’s not exactly hardcore criminal activity.” Peter snuck in and out Terrene on a regular basis for his smuggling business. Of course, he managed to avoid getting caught, unlike the trio of tall, scary blondes.

  “Oddly, the file states that they never discovered why the Samodivas were visiting Terrene so often,” Robin explained. “Their lawyers managed to strike the plea bargain without revealing those potentially major details.”

  I closed my eyes, mentally preparing myself. “Let me guess who the lawyers were.”

  Robin cleared his throat. “I have no doubt your assumption will be correct.”

  “The Liberty Project?” I asked.

  Robin nodded. “Their named lawyers were Angela Parker and Seamus Sullivan.”

  “What does this mean?” Cerys asked.

  I inhaled slowly and deeply before opening my eyes and turning to my roommate. “It means that whatever these Samodivas were up to, they were likely backed by someone with deep pockets.”

  “Someone up to a lot of no good,” Cerys murmured.

  “I’m still looking for any related files and trying to establish a connection,” Robin said. “It’ll be easier once I’m working in the office. My boss was kind enough to get started, though. She’s willing to pass along any information that might be helpful.”

  It was obvious that Robin was as shaken up as the rest of us. He adored Bryn, probably even harbored a little crush on her, and I hated to see him in such a distraught state.

  “We’re all doing everything we can,” I assured him. “Everybody wants to bring Bryn home safely.”

  Robin rested the pads of his fingers on the table’s edge, seeming to contemplate his next words. “She has a secret nickname for me, you know.”

  “Bow Tie Guy?” Cerys queried.

  “Wizard of Dork Street?” I ventured.

  Robin frowned. “No, neither of those. She calls me Magic Robbie. She’s kept a secret of mine since she arrived last year. It was the reason I knew I could trust her.”

  “What’s the secret?” I asked. “We all know you can do magic. It’s kind of the standard at Spellslingers.”

  Robin grunted softly. “Like the Samodivas, I may have also spent excessive periods of time in Terrene as a child, only I never got caught.”

  “You did?” Cerys asked. “When was that?”

  “When I was a young boy, my mother would take me to Terrene and have me perform magic tricks as though I were a normal human. I was a wunderkind.”

  Despite his somber tone, I barked a short laugh. “You were a performer?” I couldn’t see Robin doing much aside from sitting in front of an oversized tome.

  “I became somewhat famous in Terrene for a spell,” Robin continued. “I was featured on a popular television show and Bryn remembered seeing me. She even remembered that my stage name was Magic Robbie.”

  Cerys laughed softly. “Bryn must have had a lot of fun with that when she met you.”

  “She blackmailed me with it at first,” Robin said. “It’s the reason I took her to the oracle and….”

  My eyes popped. “The oracle! We should go to them and see what they know.”

  Robin’s expression clouded over. “I had the same thought. Unfortunately, they’ve gone to the Eastern Quadrant to see their cousins. They visit once a year and this is their week.”

  I groaned in frustration and rubbed my temples. That wasn’t the news I wanted to hear.

  “Believe me, Dani. I want to find Bryn, too,” Robin said. “It isn’t right for her to have endured so much in her childhood, only to end up trapped in a nightmare now.”

  I closed the book in front of me. “Well, thanks to you, we have a solid lead.”

  “Even if we can’t visit the oracle,” Robin said, “there are other options out there. Perhaps your boyfriend has an untapped resource.”

  Knowing Peter, he probably did. “Good idea,” I said.

  Cerys smiled. “Hey, you didn’t object to Peter being called your boyfriend. That’s progress.”

  “I guess it is.” I glanced at the clock. “I suppose I need to wait until morning to visit the Liberty Project.”

  “The perfect excuse to get some sleep,” Robin said.

  He was right. I’d be no good to Bryn if I were dead on my feet tomorrow. “Thanks so much for your help, Magic Robbie.”

  Robin stood to leave. “Good luck, witches. Please keep me posted. Bryn is like family to me.” His voice trembled and I nearly reached out to comfort him, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. It simply wasn’t second nature to me. In the end, it was Cerys who offered his hand an affectionate squeeze.

  “You take care of yourself,” she said. “And we’ll take care of Bryn.”

  His gaze flitted to me. “I know you will.”

  Chapter Five

  I stood outside the offices of the Liberty Project, contemplating all the work happening inside those walls at this very moment. Twenty-five stories of good co-mingling with evil, most likely. I gave a derisive snort as I caught sight of the word ‘liberty’ carved in a stone plaque above the arched entryway. If they had anything to do with Bryn’s disappearance, I was going to personally remove that plaque and smash it over the responsible party’s head.

  Gray looked at me askance. “Are you good, Dani? I’m far from an empath, but the heat is rolling off of you in tidal waves, which is not ideal for this visit.” He’d jumped at the chance to follow up on Robin’s lead.

  “Sorry,” I said. Gray was right. If we expected to get any useful information, I had to be clear-headed and on my best behavior. I squared my shoulders and took a deep breath. “I’m ready.”

  The vampire turned to face the entrance. “She’s my world. I want to find her every bit as much as you do,” he said quietly.

  My heart squeezed. “I know you do, Gray. I won’t mess this up, I swear.”

  He strode to the reception desk, his body language more rigid t
han his usual fluid movements. No one would be able to relax until Bryn was home, safe and sound. He held up a badge and said, “Warden Mappleworth. I’m here to see Angela Parker and Seamus Sullivan.”

  Thankfully, the receptionist was a different one from my previous visit to see Jenny Fraser. Peter had been spelled to take over Clementine’s body and feed me information psychically. I’d quickly learned that a mental connection to Peter probably wasn’t the best idea, especially given his obsession with my legs. Okay, with all my body parts.

  “Do you have an appointment?” the receptionist asked. She seemed unimpressed by the flash of the warden’s star.

  “No, this is an emergency,” Gray said. “Under the Paranormal Code of Justice, no notice is required for an interview.”

  Ooh, good one. I knew we’d study the code in our third year, so it was nice to see it coming into play in the real world.

  “I’ll see if they’re available,” the receptionist said.

  “I don’t think I’ve made myself clear,” Gray said. “It isn’t a choice.”

  The receptionist tensed. “Yes, Warden.” She turned away from us and picked up a phone, speaking softly into the receiver.

  “She seems to forget I have vampire hearing,” Gray muttered.

  The receptionist spun back around. “Twenty-fifth floor. Turn left off the elevator and Ms. Parker’s office is in the corner. They’ll be with you as soon as they can.”

  “Thank you,” Gray said. He and I walked to the elevator bank and chose the express elevator to the top. Apparently, the esteemed partners lacked the patience to stop at other floors.

  We shot to the twenty-fifth floor and stepped into a nicely appointment corridor, immediately turning left. Tasteful artwork adorned the walls and a plush carpet was a welcome respite for weary feet. The corner office was easy to find since there were no other offices in between. The smell of honeysuckle wafted through the air, although I saw no sign of it. Surprisingly, there was no assistant on hand to greet us. We entered the room and my gaze went—as always—straight to the view.

  “I could use a perk like this,” I said. I stared at the sprawling town below.

  “If you operate out of central headquarters, you might get one,” Gray said. “The Southern Quadrant has some amazing offices. I’ve been there twice and, I have to admit, I came back here feeling a little bit like a wandless wizard.”

  “Does it strike you as odd that no one’s up here?” I murmured. The entire floor seemed devoid of activity. Unusual during prime hours for an organization as busy as the Liberty Project.

  “Maybe there’s a staff meeting,” Gray said, though he didn’t sound like he believed it. More than likely, everyone was ordered to scramble at the mention of a warden’s unexpected visit.

  “Or maybe there’s a cover-up in progress,” I whispered.

  “Warden Mappleworth, what a lovely surprise.” Angela Parker’s heels clicked across the darkly stained bamboo floor, and I realized that the plush carpet of the corridor had ended at the threshold.

  “Thank you for seeing us on short notice, Ms. Parker,” Gray said.

  “According to my receptionist, there was no choice.” Angela shook his hand. “As an organization committed to justice, we weren’t about to argue with a Warden of the West.” Her attention shifted to me. “You must be his protégé.” Angela Parker had the lean, sinewy body often associated with werewolves. Her thick brown hair was swept up in a casual bun and she wore a simple green dress in lieu of a suit. Other than the heels, she didn’t seem particularly fancy for a partner in a prestigious organization like the Liberty Project.

  “Kim Taylor,” I said, shaking her hand. During the ride over, Gray had suggested that I use a fake name so that the organization couldn’t track me to Spellslingers. He felt I’d be more vulnerable, especially if the organization was connected to Bryn’s disappearance.

  “A pleasure, Miss Taylor.” Her smiled seemed genuine enough. Then again, she had no idea yet why we were here.

  “I love the smell of honeysuckle, but I don’t see it anywhere,” I said.

  Angela brightened. “Me, too. It’s an oil I keep on the shelf over there.” She flicked a finger at the far wall. “It reminds me of summers in the woods behind my grandparents’ house. I always keep a fresh supply in my office.” She made a show of inhaling. “Being reminded of my roots keeps me grounded.”

  I couldn’t really say the same. For me, my roots served as a weight I was forced to carry. “Probably a good thing when you’re twenty-five stories up.”

  Angela smiled. “Seamus will be with us soon. He’s finishing an important meeting.” She motioned for us to sit. “Can I offer you a beverage or a light snack? We’re well stocked here with everything from vintage blood to barbecue potato chips from Terrene. Many of our clients arrive without proper nourishment, so we like to be prepared.”

  “I think many of your clients have more than adequate food supplies,” Gray said. He took the chair closest to Angela.

  She sat on the edge of her desk and crossed her ankles. “Without the deep pockets of certain clients, there’d be no Liberty Project to help those less fortunate.”

  “It’s almost like saying they’re a necessary evil,” I said. I could practically feel Gray’s disapproval. He did not want me to bait them.

  Angela kicked off her shoes and wiggled her toes. “Speaking of necessary evils, heels are the devil,” she declared. “Sadly, certain clients expect a look, if you know what I mean.”

  “The AMF always assumes I’m going to show up for work in heels,” Gray said, “but I prefer to defy expectations.”

  Angela tossed back her head and laughed, causing several tendrils of hair to spill from the bun. “A warden with a sense of humor. How refreshing. Would you like to explain your drop-in now, or shall we wait for Seamus?”

  “We may as well wait,” Gray said. “I hate repeating myself.”

  Angela grunted her approval. “You should try addressing a group of gnomes. They all talk over you, as well as each other, so you end up repeating yourself to the point of exhaustion.”

  “Are you complaining about gnomes again?” Seamus Sullivan appeared in the doorway, wearing a shiny silver suit. The leprechaun’s petite stature came as a bit of a shock to me. Even though I knew he was a leprechaun, I somehow anticipated someone with a larger presence.

  Angela waved a dismissive hand. “What do you care, Seamus? They’re not your kind.”

  “We’re the Liberty Project, Angela,” Seamus said. “We represent all kinds.” The leprechaun adjusted his lapel. “If I had known we’d be entertaining wardens today, I would have worn a better suit.”

  “Stop fishing for compliments,” Angela said. She turned her attention to us. “He’s always dressed impeccably. It’s his signature look.”

  Seamus came to stand beside Angela. His skin was a paler green than most leprechauns I’d met, and I wondered whether he’d had a cosmetic procedure done to achieve the look. His hair was streaked with silver and I couldn’t decide whether it was sign of age or they were intended to match his suit. Either way, the leprechaun struck me as a slick operator.

  “You’re an attractive duo,” Seamus said. “When did the AMF start hiring straight from the modeling agencies?” He laughed at his own joke, which cemented my dislike of him.

  Gray maintained a serious expression. “It’s our understanding that you represented three Samodivas in a case that involved realm violations.”

  Neither advocate reacted.

  “Do you need their names?” I asked, pretending to reach for a file from the shoulder bag where my wand was tucked away.

  “That would be helpful,” Angela said, her expression neutral. “We represent so many clients here.”

  “We’re talking about three Samodivas, not werewolves,” Gray said. His agitation started to show. “They’re not exactly exploding in population, particularly in the Western Quadrant.”

  Angela flinched at the mention
of her species and I was sure that Gray intended to provoke her. “I seem to recall that Patrice Laughlin handled a case with three Samodivas,” Angela said. “I don’t recall the specifics.”

  “We’ll need that file,” Gray said. His tone made it clear that this was a demand, not a request.

  “I’m afraid that isn’t possible,” Seamus replied. “Our client information is confidential. You must realize this from the Paranormal Code of Justice that you seem to know so well.” The leprechaun’s small, square teeth sparkled, even in the bright light of the office. More enhancements, no doubt.

  Gray leaned forward and flashed his fangs in a slightly threatening manner. “Allow me to elaborate. We’re searching for a missing trainee from Spellslingers and we have reason to believe the trio of Samodivas may be connected to her disappearance. We’d like to track them down. If you represented them, you must have their contact details.”

  Angela clasped her hands and heaved a regretful sigh. “Mr. Mappleworth….”

  “Warden,” Gray corrected her. “Warden Mappleworth.”

  Her lips tightened. “Warden Mappleworth, we’d love to help you—truly—but we can’t throw rules out the window simply because a pretty witch has gone missing. Perhaps there was trouble at the academy and she took off when the opportunity presented itself.”

  “She’s not a troubled student,” I argued. “She’s very together, in fact.” I recognized that I sounded too knowledgeable about her, so I backed off. “Her academy file is spotless.” Except for her father’s identity, hiding from the League, and that whole cafeteria incident where she used blood magic on creatures that she’d accidentally summoned.

  “All we want is the location of the Samodivas, so that we can interview them,” Gray said. “They were present at the museum at the time of the witch’s disappearance. We’ve already spoken to all the other paranormals in the area at that time. The Samodivas are the only ones we haven’t managed to locate.”

  “You said you wanted their file,” Seamus pointed out. “So which is it, Warden? An address or the whole file?”