Outbreak

by Annabel Chase

  “We tried to request their case file from the Justice Center,” Gray said, “but it seems you were able to have the information suppressed.”

  Angela shrugged. “Like I said, I think one of our colleagues handled the case.”

  “Your name was on the only part of the record that’s still public,” Gray said. “Both of your names, in fact.”

  “That’s not surprising,” Seamus said. “We oversee Ms. Laughlin.”

  “Our names are on most cases that come through this office,” Angela added. “It’s part of the responsibility of being a senior partner.”

  Or being an evil mastermind. I couldn’t decide which at this point.

  I straightened in my chair. “If you have nothing to hide, I don’t see why you won’t hand over the file,” I said. Or why they would’ve fought to suppress the public record, but that was another question entirely.

  “The matter didn’t strike me as particularly egregious,” Gray added. “A realm violation, was it? What could possibly be worth hiding?”

  I glimpsed a condescending glare before Seamus blinded us with those tiny white tiles again. “As we said, handing over any files would be a violation of our confidentiality policy.” The leprechaun slotted his chubby fingers together. “If you want it, you need to go through the proper channels and get approval first. That’s how the system works.”

  Gray gently bounced his fists off the sides of the chair. “How about you direct us to Patrice Laughlin’s office? If she handled the case, then she might be able to provide information without the file.”

  Angela dropped to the floor and slipped on her heels. “Not possible, unfortunately. Ms. Laughlin is out of the office this week, enjoying some well-deserved time off.”

  “We encourage all of our advocates to get out and live their lives,” Seamus said. “No one should be a slave to their job. Not even those of us with great responsibility to the public at large.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Gray said. “I won’t rest until this matter is resolved. Not when an innocent witch’s life is on the line.”

  “Justice for the innocent,” Angela said. “See? We’re not so different, Mr…Warden Mappleworth.”

  Gray tilted his head toward me. “I guess we’re done here, Taylor.”

  We rose off the chairs simultaneously. “Thank you for your time,” I said.

  “We’ll file the papers as soon as we get back to headquarters,” Gray said. “Hopefully, there won’t be any bureaucratic obstacles.”

  “I’ll escort you out,” Angela offered.

  Gray waved her off. “Thanks. We know how busy you are. No need to take up more of your time.”

  I drew in the scent of honeysuckle one more time before passing through the doorway. I wondered what Angela’s grandparents would think of her questionable dealings if they knew. Would they be ashamed? Or proud? Maybe she was exactly the kind of werewolf they’d intended to raise. Maybe Angela had been shaped and molded into a legal weapon, with the intention of raising the profile of the whole pack. Werewolves were not above such machinations.

  “Best of luck to you,” Seamus called.

  It took all my strength not to hex him on the way out. No doubt they had protection spells in place for such acts of aggression.

  Gray and I took the express elevator back to the lobby and I noticed two Gorgon security guards at the reception counter. Even though they wore headscarves, I averted my gaze. I had no desire to be turned to stone today. Once we passed under the ‘liberty’ archway, Gray dared to speak.

  “You noticed, right?” he said. “Please show me you’re not overrated.”

  I nodded grimly. “You only referred to a Spellslingers trainee, but they called her a pretty witch.”

  He clenched his hands into fists. “They know something.”

  “I could’ve told you that before her snafu,” I said. “The whole place reeks of shady practices.” No amount of honeysuckle oil in the world could mask the odor of corruption.

  Gray raked a hand through his hair. “It’s important to remember, though, that just because they know more than they let on doesn’t mean they’re responsible. Jumping to conclusions is a surefire way to screw up an assignment.”

  “We’re not jumping to conclusions,” I argued. “They’re forcing us to draw them. They already knew Bryn was missing and they have a connection to the likely kidnappers,” I said. “I don’t care whether Angela and Seamus physically took her or not, that’s a pretty strong relationship right there.”

  Gray closed his eyes for a brief moment, seeming to collect himself. “Agreed.”

  “Are you really going to submit paperwork to get the file?” I asked.

  Gray grimaced. “And fight over it for the next decade while Bryn is missing? Hades, no. We’ll keep digging.”

  “They seem to have a pretty impenetrable system,” I said. The entire parking lot was flooded with sunlight, prompting me to shade my eyes with my hand.

  “Nothing is impenetrable,” he said. “We’ll either find another way to get in and get the information, or we’ll find a way to get the information out. There’s always a weakness. You just have to find it. It’s good to remember that, Dani.”

  We stopped beside his motorcycle and I became fixated on Bryn’s helmet. I couldn’t bear the thought of her being held against her will, or worse. It didn’t feel right to simply ride back to the academy and call it a day. “Maybe we should stop into a few of the local places nearby.”

  Gray cocked an eyebrow. “For what?”

  “If the Samodivas came here for any period of time, they’re pretty hard to miss,” I explained. “Three gorgeous blondes traveling together. Maybe they stopped for a bite to eat. Had a favorite coffee shop. Maybe someone spoke to them and will remember a critical detail.”

  A slow grin emerged. “You’ve got more going on than your ability to toss a fireball. You know that, right?”

  I swept my hair over my shoulder. “Oh, I do.” And, someday, the whole damn world would know it.

  We left the motorcycle and moved to the end of the block. “You take that side of the street and I’ll take this side,” he said. “We’ll meet at the other end of the block.”

  “Got it.” I crossed the road and decided to start with the cafe a few doors down. It seemed the most likely place for three blondes to congregate before or after their high-powered meetings with their advocate.

  “Psst,” a voice called.

  My head swiveled toward the alley that ran alongside the cafe. I didn’t see anyone, so I continued to the cafe.

  “Fire witch,” the voice said. “I have information for you.”

  I perked up. “Who’s there?” I called to the shadows.

  “Not in the light,” came the reply. “I’m not risking myself.”

  I slipped into the alleyway and noticed a hooded figure huddled against a brick wall. “Who are you?” I asked.

  “That’s irrelevant,” the voice said. “You want information about the missing witch. That’s what’s important.”

  I crept closer, silently summoning my magic. The fire sparked within me and I felt an instant sense of relief to feel the burn. There was a certain comfort when I connected with that part of me.

  “What do you know about her?” I asked.

  The figure raised his head to look at me and I noticed two eyes with an amber-colored glow. A werewolf. “It isn’t what I know that’s the issue,” he said. “It’s what you shouldn’t know.”

  “Well, we seem to have reached an impasse then, because I don’t know nearly as much as I’d like to.”

  He pushed away from the wall and I felt the tension rise between us. He wasn’t here to give information. He wasn’t here to talk at all.

  “You and your friends need to choose another path,” he warned.

  “Or what?” I asked, popping a hand onto my hip. “You’ll lick me to death? Do you think shifters scare me?”

  He produced two escrima sticks. “I’m much mo
re than a simple shifter, fire witch.” My breathing hitched as the sticks began to glimmer in the darkened alleyway.

  “You have magic?” I queried. I opened and closed my hand, ready to bridge the gap between us with as much firepower as necessary.

  “I have more skills than you can imagine.” He vaulted toward me, slicing the air with the stick in his right hand. I jumped back, narrowly avoiding a gash across my stomach. I had no idea what kind of magic those sticks were imbued with and I couldn’t take the chance of finding out.

  He was too close for an effective fireball now. I raised my hand, ready to let loose a stream of white-hot light.

  “Did I fail to mention I wasn’t alone?” the werewolf asked with a sneer.

  Something cracked between my shoulder blades and pain shot through me. I staggered forward, only to feel the brunt of the werewolf’s glow stick against my outer thigh. He used the second stick to knock me off my feet and my tailbone hit the pavement. Hard. Momentarily paralyzed, I struggled to defend myself as my unidentified assailant zapped me again from behind. This time, the pain was so intense that I screamed.

  I tried to call to my magic, but I couldn’t think straight. My focus was shattered—and probably some of my bones as well.

  “Dani!” Although I could barely see him, I heard the shock and horror in Gray’s voice as he raced into the alleyway. I heard the baring of fangs and the scuffle as the vampire went after my attackers. I remained slumped on the ground, useless and frightened that something bad would happen to Gray, too. And then who would be able to find Bryn?

  After a few confusing minutes, I felt a strong pair of arms lift me off the ground. “Gray?” I murmured. Great Goddess of the Moon, I hoped it was Gray.

  “They’re gone now, Dani. Try to relax,” the vampire said. “I need to get you to the healer.”

  For once, I didn’t object.

  Chapter Six

  Although I never fully lost consciousness, I seemed to have an out-of-body experience until I felt a familiar sticky ointment on my wounds that snapped me back to reality. Alana’s concerned face came into focus as she hovered over me, tending to my injuries.

  “How am I?” I murmured.

  “Alive,” she said. The druid continued to examine me, clearly wanting to leave no scrape or bruise unmended. “Whether that was the intended result, I am not certain.”

  “Where’s Gray?” I felt too weak and lightheaded to look around the room.

  “He went home to shower and rest,” Alana said. “He didn’t want to, of course, but I insisted. Undead or not, even vampires sweat in extreme circumstances.”

  “How?” I asked.

  “I don’t design them,” she replied. “I just know when they stink.”

  I laughed and felt a searing pain in my ribs. “Note to self: no laughing.”

  “Laughter and the slathering of lotions?” a welcome voice said. “This must be my lucky day.”

  “Peter,” I said, more dreamily than I intended.

  “Gods, that is the face and the voice of an angel,” he said. “I’ll be honest, usually it’s just the face.”

  “She’s been given a light sedative,” Alana said. “She was thrashing when Gray brought her in.”

  I didn’t remember thrashing at all. Everything was a blur between the alley and the healer’s office.

  “Sounds like the way she sleeps,” Peter said. “Or so I’ve heard.”

  “I’m going to get a different healing tonic to treat her back,” Alana said. “Would you be so kind as to keep an eye on her for a moment?”

  “With extreme pleasure,” Peter said.

  “How did you know I was here?” I asked, once Alana had left the room.

  “Gray contacted me.” Peter frowned. “Dani, I think you should leave this investigation to the professionals. Whatever bear you’re poking is obviously poking back.”

  “I don’t know what that means, but it doesn’t matter,” I said. “This is Bryn we’re talking about. I’m not sitting idle while she’s….” I trailed off. I had no idea what happened to her, only that she was gone and the partners at the Liberty Project knew more than they were willing to admit.

  Peter planted a feathery kiss on my forehead. “I don’t expect you to sit idle, princess. I know you better than that. You’ve obviously touched a nerve, though, or they wouldn’t have sent goons after you.”

  “It had to be the Liberty Project’s goons,” I said. “We’d just come from there.”

  Warden Armitage swaggered into the room. “Which is exactly why it might not be them.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Think about it,” Armitage said. “If I’m keeping tabs on you to make sure you don’t pick up my trail, I’m going to attack you right after you leave another suspect’s office. What better way to throw you off my scent?”

  He made a valid point, but still…The Liberty Project was involved. I had no doubt.

  Alana returned to the room clutching a vial of clear liquid. “Would you gentlemen mind leaving the room while I apply this tonic to the spot on her back? A nasty bit of magic burned her between the shoulder blades.”

  “Yeah, I felt that,” I said, wincing at the memory.

  Peter placed a warm hand over mine. “You know, I’m a healer, too.”

  “No, you’re a smuggler,” I said.

  “I have healing abilities,” he argued. “I just choose not to use them often.”

  I knew that much was true. I’d watched him heal Professor Fraser in the aftermath of the wizard’s torture by giants.

  Alana’s gaze flickered from Peter to me. “It is up to you, Danielle. I may be old, but I’m not old-fashioned.”

  “Well, I am old-fashioned,” Armitage complained. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  “He’s a healer applying a tonic,” I called after the warden. It wasn’t exactly romantic.

  “This is a good time for me to grab a bite to eat,” Alana said. She paused to fix me with a hard stare. “This might also be a good time to ask you to schedule an appointment with me. You were given a reprieve thanks to recent events.”

  “I’m here now,” I said, deliberately obtuse. “I don’t need an appointment with you.”

  Alana patted my cheek. “You can choose a day and time when I return. That way, I can give the chancellor a positive report.” She turned to go.

  “My roommate is missing,” I said. “Can’t we worry about my appointment once Bryn is home safe? It’s kind of a big deal.”

  Alana didn’t glance back. “All the more reason to see me now. May the gods bless you and heal you, Danielle.” She closed the door behind her, leaving Peter and I alone.

  He tipped a dollop of the tonic into his palm and rubbed his hands together. “Can you lift up your shirt or is that too painful?”

  “I’ll let you do it,” I said. Peter pushed up the fabric of my shirt and studied my back in silence. “What’s wrong? Is it that bad?”

  “It’s not a rosy picture, but I…I need to unhook your bra so I can put the tonic on the right spot.”

  “Okay, so do it.” The bra came loose and I felt Peter’s warm hand as he smeared the tonic on my skin. A pleasant tingle spread from the wound to the rest of my body. I couldn’t decide whether it was the effect of Peter’s hand on my bare skin or the tonic.

  “This stuff is a miracle cure,” Peter said. “It looks better already.”

  “It certainly feels better,” I said. I moved my shoulder blades back and forth for good measure. Peter’s hand continued to rest there and I did nothing to discourage him. His touch felt nice.

  “Anywhere else you’d like me to apply this?” Peter asked. It was impossible to miss the desire in his voice.

  “Not now,” I said softly. “Maybe later.”

  “Later works for me.” He removed his hand and fussed with my bra strap as he refastened the hooks. “I have to say I’m much better at taking these off than putting them on.” He moved around to the front
of me, resting his hands lightly on my thighs. “I’m so glad you’re okay. I was terrified when Gray said you’d been hurt.”

  “I was a moron,” I said. “Who goes into a dark alley when a stranger beckons?”

  “Was he good-looking?” Peter asked. “That might explain it.”

  I smiled. “Not as good-looking as you.”

  “Now we’re getting somewhere.” He leaned forward and kissed me full on the mouth.

  I leaned into the kiss, grateful to have him here with me. For a split second, I forgot all about my injuries and the fear and disappointment that had followed my attack.

  The door clicked open and Warden Armitage cleared his throat. Loudly. “Did I mention that I’m old-fashioned?” the wizard asked.

  Peter reluctantly broke off the kiss. “Did I mention that I have a staff that kills anyone it touches?”

  The warden chuckled. “Those are extreme measures for a kiss, Zilla.”

  “Not when the kiss is with the most perfect witch in the whole realm,” Peter said, still fixated on me. My heart hammered in my chest. There was something about the way Peter looked at me that filled me with pleasure.

  “Let’s worry about kisses and butterflies and whatever else when we’ve got Morrow safely back here,” Armitage said.

  I stretched my arms over my head to test the effect of Alana and Peter’s healing powers. I felt pretty good, all things considered. “We need to get whatever we can from the Liberty Project,” I said. “They definitely know something. We need to go back there and demand answers.”

  Armitage folded his arms and leaned against the wall. “That’s a nice plan, Degraff, but the system doesn’t work that way. The Liberty Project is a big, powerful organization. You can’t just waltz in there and demand anything.”

  “There are proven connections….” I began.

  He held up a hand. “Nothing is proven yet. Not even your attackers can be linked to them right now.”

  I scowled. “So what’s your plan? We do nothing?”

  He gave me look. “Since when do I advocate doing nothing? I’m a warden, Degraff. Nothing isn’t in my vocabulary.”

  “Then what are the next steps?” I asked. “Break in?”