Bite Back Box Set 1

by Mark Henwick

  “You are not a sacrificial pawn, Amber. You are an affiliate of my House, sworn or not. I will not order you to do this. But on the other hand, having Matlal distracted is important for the whole of Panethus, and I think you understand that could mean the whole world too.”

  I was okay with that, really. The thought that he was just maneuvering me into agreeing to be bait was not worthy.

  “How good are you, Amber? Can you keep one step ahead?” he asked.

  “Purely on my own, yes.” With Ben-Haim’s old lectures whispering in my ear, I could vanish from sight. “But there are two things against me. I have to get past Matlal to take out Hoben. That’s why I have to be out there.”

  “Hmm. And the second thing that’s against you?”

  “If I’m reporting back and there’s a spy here.”

  “What I’m thinking takes that into account.” I waited. There were too many possibilities he could be talking about, none of them palatable. Never operate at the end of a compromised line, Ben-Haim had said.

  He stood again.

  “It’s fortunate you made the mistake of coming in here, rather than where you were sent. It saved me coming up with a plan to speak privately to you. But we can’t use that again. It might be noticed. If there’s a spy. It’s possible we may not be able to speak again before the Assembly, Amber, so your decision now is important. Given what you know, are you willing to be a distraction for Matlal?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Then you have my secret permission to ignore my demands for you to come in and stay at Haven, which I will feed through the appropriate channels. No one but Diana and I will know of this. This meeting, the room itself and everything we’ve said is completely secret. Tell no one. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “And the difference between an affiliate and a member of my House is in the amount of discretion. As an affiliate, in theory, you could argue against coming in to Haven. But to individual members of my House, you will inevitably appear to be a troublemaker. And at the same time, Matlal and Hoben will become increasingly desperate to catch you the closer to the Assembly we get. I cannot spare any resource from my other preparations to protect you. Are you still willing?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Then be careful, and remember, don’t discuss this conversation with anyone. Not even Bian, who is waiting to see you out in the elevator room.”

  I nodded and started to walk back down to the elevator. I was both cold and sweating. I wanted out of this creepy dungeon as quickly as possible and a chance to think through what all of it meant.

  “Oh, Amber,” he called after me. I turned and went back. What now?

  “I just wanted to say, the distressed biker jacket suits you.”

  He slipped through his door and it closed seamlessly behind him.

  Asshole.

  “Good night, Skylur,” I said, as I returned to the elevator. “Thank you so much for your advice. Hope I didn’t keep you up. Do sleep well.”

  Bian met me and walked me out to the gate.

  “Just for your information,” she said, “the Warders have raised a concern with us, about you.”

  I sighed. “Yeah? What have I done now?”

  “We’re not taking it seriously, Round-eye. Don’t look so sour.” She took my arm and put on a news presenter voice. “Your presence in Denver is a provocation, needlessly escalating tensions and distracting from the purpose of the Assembly.” She was back to playful Bian. That was a relief. I could deal with that.

  “Matlal’s breaching how many rules and I’m the one classed as a provocation?”

  “I said we weren’t taking it seriously.”

  We reached the gate.

  “Do I get a goodnight kiss?” she said.

  I huffed and kissed her neck, then tried to get back at her for all her teasing with a nip from my teeth. That was so dumb. She returned the favor and it wasn’t her ordinary teeth that scratched the skin of my neck. Skylur had put me off limits, so I was probably safe. Probably. Unless Bian had some secret instruction from him to disobey his orders, like I had.

  I shivered and slipped through the gate to the sound of her laughter.

  ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

  248 Monroe Street was silent, wrapped up in cold and dark and misery. Larry wasn’t there.

  I could hear Ben-Haim whispering in my ear again. He’s not there. Go! Now! Do not return! He is no longer a safe contact. He may have been taken and revealed its location. You can no longer assume this is a safe house. This is how you live for another day.

  No, Ben-Haim. I wouldn’t abandon Larry. But I’d have to be very careful visiting again. I slipped back out, tired and depressed. Where was he?

  It’d taken ages to check Monroe, return Rom’s Harley and pick up my car. I left the car down in Wash Park and snuck in through the golf course next to Manassah. I was not going to lead the FBI to Jen’s door.

  At 4 a.m. I tiptoed into my suite and I was asleep as soon as my head touched the pillow.

  I can’t breathe. Why do I dream of suffocation so often?

  I stumble into the living room and a darkness my eyes cannot pierce presses in on me. But my lungs heave and sweet air fills them. Here, I can breathe again.

  Shadows gather and stir from every corner; sibilance caresses my ears.

  “Welcome.” It’s as if the whole room speaks, and the word shudders through my chest.

  “Who’s that?”

  “See.” A ball of flame, painfully bright blue, emerges from the darkness and floats into the fireplace, setting alight the neat stack of wood waiting there.

  The warm glow pushes back the dark. Reflected gleams spring up like a thousand eyes snapping open in the night.

  Tullah sits asleep on the sofa.

  Around her, filling the space of the whole room with shiny scales and restless movement, stirs her dragon.

  “Is Tullah—”

  “She is all right, of course. Greetings, Amber Farrell. I am Kaothos.”

  Her head is huge, resting on the floor next to the sofa, one eye the size of my own head turned to me. The pupil is oval like a cat’s.

  I sit slowly on a stool. Our eyes are level. The fire warms me. “Greetings, Kaothos.”

  “Greetings also, to those within you,” says Kaothos.

  I feel a disturbance in my head. Hana, my spirit wolf, is twisting in consternation. From Tara, only fascination.

  “You will speak with Tullah’s parents soon. They will warn you of the dangers of dragons, just as they warned you of the dangers of Athanate.” The huge orb of the eye staring at me dims as a clear inner lid sweeps briefly over it. The pupil widens, black as space. “Do you think I’m evil, Amber Farrell?”

  “I think all creatures have the potential to be evil. I don’t know you.”

  A hissing sound like water splashing over very hot rocks. A dragon’s laughter.

  “And you have this potential too?” says Kaothos.

  “Yes.”

  “It may be we can help each other in this.”

  Kaothos wants this. We hear it in her voice. Hana stops to listen.

  “We will speak again, Amber Farrell.”

  The great outer eyelid descends like falling silk and in the fireplace, the flames pop and disappear.

  I surged upright. I was on my bed, lying on top of the comforter. The house was completely silent. My skin was warm as if I’d sat next to a fire, but I was shivering. A dream. Just a dream.

  Chapter 20

  WEDNESDAY

  Jen was long gone to work by the time I got up.

  I sorted some dirty clothes for Jen’s maid to clean. Gods, I was getting used to this lifestyle. Maybe not a good idea. Who knows what tomorrow brings?

  Checking pockets, I came out with a scrap of paper. Larry had shoved it into my pocket just before he’d started running at Cheesman. A little superstitious chill lifted my hair. I pushed that aside. One side, it was a jumble of letters, numbers, a
nd what looked like map drawings of river deltas, or maybe stylized ferns. On the other side, a meaningless jumble of lines. I folded it carefully and tucked it away for later. I’d tease him over a beer about what it meant.

  In the living room, there were ashes and partly burned wood in the fireplace. I stood looking down thoughtfully for a minute as I worked out the stiffness from the fight last evening. Nothing I could do about the bruises, but it would all heal soon.

  Tullah was in the study office.

  “Oh, hi,” she said. “I didn’t see the car. I thought you were gone already.”

  “I left the car well away from the house. The FBI have some kind of tracker on it.” I sat at my desk. “Did you sleep well last night, Tullah?” I asked casually.

  “Oh, absolutely fine, thanks.” I could see her looking at my bruising, but apart from the usual roll of the eyes, she didn’t bother to comment.

  I updated her on the events with the FBI and with Hoben and Matlal’s attempt to kidnap me at Cheesman Park. We compared notes on our PI cases and I logged Niall’s fee. I kept the cash—it was too handy, usefully untraceable. I wasn’t going to use a card unless I had to, with the FBI breathing down my neck.

  Tullah’s case had involved a bit of surveillance and plenty of digging into internet records that I suspected Matt had helped her with. She didn’t ask me for advice, and I didn’t want to nudge her elbow, so beyond making sure I knew what she was doing, I left her to handle it.

  “What about your mother, Tullah?” I asked, with business out the way. “How’s she taking your move?”

  Tullah winced. “Still not good. I’ve told my parents it’s got nothing to do with you, but they want to talk to you.”

  “Okay. When?”

  “This afternoon?”

  I thought about what I had to get through today.

  I needed to check Monroe Street again, carefully. There were the two locations that Hoben used which Larry had given me, but Larry himself was still the best source of a clue where to find Hoben, even if he didn’t think he was.

  I’d texted Matt with a request for information on the locations, and I’d need to drive by. But I was also due back at Haven for a briefing on the Assembly and to talk to the Judicator. I needed to make some progress on the Quinns’ case, have a look at Floyd Underwood. All complicated by keeping out of the way of Matlal and the FBI. Sigh.

  “Sure,” I said to Tullah, “but I’ll have to call them later to confirm a place and time.”

  Tullah frowned and moved uncomfortably on her chair. “You need to be careful around Ma.”

  “Gods, Tullah, you don’t need to tell me that. Mary scares me.”

  “It’s not just that. Ma’s downer on the Athanate is normal for Adepts, and she’s…quite senior in the community.”

  “Head witch, hey?” I tried to make light of it, but Tullah didn’t respond. More sighs. One more thing to look out for.

  “So, what do Adepts do, Tullah?” I asked her. “Besides hate the Athanate, of course.” I wasn’t expecting a response really, certainly not what I got.

  “Save the freaking world by making sure no other Adepts actually use their powers,” she snapped. “Prevent anyone from actually realizing their potential.” She stopped abruptly, looking disturbed.

  Her eyes flicked to me. “I didn’t mean that,” she said quietly.

  “Okay,” I said. I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. Shooting off her mouth in that way wasn’t her style at all. She seemed upset with herself, and I thought it best to let it go for the moment. Time enough to talk it over later, when worrying about where she was living wasn’t such an issue.

  Instead, I called Matt on the landline to see how he’d done with his searches and to talk about secure communications. I was getting seriously paranoid, and luckily, he loved this kind of thing.

  “Yuh, Amber, forget the burn phone thing unless you have two for every person you want to talk to, one for them and one for you. Otherwise, even using a cell they’re not tracking, you get through to someone you call a lot, and they can put a back trace to get a position on you. And you can’t use that SIM again. So, you can go out and buy double handful of SIMs and throw them away after every call, but that’s expensive and there’s a better way.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Y’know you can do calls on computers using the internet? I have a trick system I put together to use that. Only drawback is, it’ll only work in city limits or near unsecured connections. It can’t be backtracked. It’ll even disguise your voice. I’ll send you the files and a list of stuff to get. Of course, they could be monitoring whoever you’re calling, and you still need to be careful what you say, but I guess you’ll have plenty of code words and stuff.”

  “I wish, Matt. I’ll keep that problem in mind. The cell is just so damn useful, it really throws me that it’s about as secure as shouting across the street. Okay, enough. Did you find any stuff on Matlal and Hoben?”

  “Nothing special. Not quite as phantom as some people…” I grinned at that. Matt had looked for any traces of me on the internet, and there weren’t any the whole time I was in Ops 4-10. “But anyway, it’s in your inbox, in an encrypted file. Tullah’s got the password.”

  “Thanks. You did keep your head down while you pulled this cyber-ninja stuff?”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  “Okay, last thing. May not be your scene. I’ve picked up a tracker on my car. I checked and couldn’t find it. Do you have anything on the latest tech for trackers? Like how I’d find one?”

  “I know a guy has this info. I’ll get it on an email in, say, fifteen.”

  “That’s ace, Matt. I’ll call later on your spook phone.”

  “Cool.”

  We signed off.

  “He’s so smart,” I said to Tullah, looking dreamy, “as well as good-looking. Do you think he’s too young for me?”

  “Enough of that,” she said, grinning, and twisting her computer screen around. “Is this Alex the wolf?”

  She’d pulled up an image on her search engine. I guessed it was three or four years old. Alex was at a black tie event. On his arm was his late girlfriend. I reached across Tullah and checked the details. Her name was Hope Gilliam.

  “Yeah. That’s him.”

  “Who’s the girl?”

  “Old girlfriend. She died. He still has a photo of her in his living room.”

  “Hmm. She’s pretty, but he is like so freaking wolfy hot.”

  I grinned. “Even better in the flesh.”

  That made her snigger. “I’ll bet!” She scribbled a meaningless password down on a piece of paper and passed it to me. “That’s for Matt’s emails.”

  I picked up my laptop and keys and started for the door.

  “Amber?”

  I turned.

  “This…” she waved at the screen, the house, everything. “Alex and Jen. This is Athanate behavior, isn’t it? You’re really there?”

  I huffed. “I can’t say that becoming Athanate caused all this. I’d have found both of them attractive before, I guess, but I’d never have thought…I don’t know. Either I’m Athanate already or I’m something else. Whatever. They’re what I want. I think I’m at wherever it is I was going, Tullah.” I was making little sense to myself, so I wouldn’t have been surprised if I was making no sense to Tullah.

  She just nodded. “Ma will know,” she said.

  “Yeah. That’s one of the things I’m worried about.” I smiled and headed out.

  Instead of walking straight back to where I’d left the car, I diverted to Alameda Avenue. There was an Asian restaurant there with three things going for it—good food, early opening and free internet. I ordered a sweet and spicy chicken with rice and a hot shrimp dish; apart from Jen’s breakfast yesterday, I’d only snacked on the run and I was hungry.

  I downloaded Matt’s files and briefed myself as I waited. I hoped the food was easier to stomach than the Matlal report. There was little hard evidence, but his
profile was eerily close to many I’d read. How had this man not come to the attention of whoever allocated tasks to Ops 4-10? If half of what it said was true, he should have had a swift, fatal visit from the team years ago.

  Last, the kicker, was the department reference on the police report about animal attacks. Matt had found that department 55734 was an FBI project team called Anthracite. Thursday’s meeting with the Weres just clicked up a few notches in importance and I had one more reason to stay away from Ingram.

  ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

  Back at the car, parked on a quiet road a couple of blocks from the park, I began a thorough search for the tracker. I was working on the theory that I’d been bugged when I visited the CBI building. Given my car was in plain sight in the parking lot, and I was in there only an hour, that should mean it wouldn’t be too deeply hidden. That was a comforting thought. I didn’t need the disruption of taking it into a garage and having it taken apart.

  There was nothing in plain sight. Matt’s scanner that I’d borrowed for Jaworski chirped once as I walked around the car with it, but it gave no indication of where the tracker might be.

  Matt’s notes on tracker technology suggested it might be much smaller than I was originally expecting. The size of a wristwatch rather than the size of a smartphone. It still had to be big enough for a battery, a GPS receiver and a signal transmitter, and it needed to be fixed securely. It couldn’t be completely flat or tiny.

  I gave up looking by eye and started to go around the car again by feel.

  I found the bastards had glued it behind the license plate on the front grill.

  It was about the size of the battery in my cell. Having levered it off the back of the plate with a knife, I prized it apart and found a super-slim battery, which I took out. I tossed it all into the Faraday cage which was still in the trunk.

  I left Matt’s scanner on just to check that there were no further chirps to indicate something transmitting, and drove off toward the nearest computer store on Virginia Avenue. I bought the equipment Matt listed to turn my laptop into an internet cell phone and the adaptor to run it off the car’s cigarette lighter. All for cash.