Having magic is fun, but dammit, I want my sleep.
Chapter 12
The next few days that passed were exercises in exhaustion and frustration. Every day started the same way, Ripper splashing me with a pail of ice-cold water and barking at me to run to some area of the mansion he’d prepared for me. From there, the day’s training began. I swung swords until I couldn’t feel my arms, lifted weights that I thought were ludicrous, and spent hours drilling in various fighting techniques. Each day he stripped me of one of my senses, blindfolding me, plugging my ears, or binding my arms or legs. After he had crippled me in some way, he forced me to fight against one of the others. Dad would hurl balls of ice at me while I was blind. I had to hunt Aidan through the forest while deaf, and fight Ripper while I had one pair of limbs bound. None of them pulled any punches, and if Ripper would force them to do the same exercises as me if he even thought they were. I collapsed in bed each day, exhausted.
The strange thing was, I loved it.
I became stronger each day. The magic within me came to me easier with each weight lifted, each mile I ran, and every blow I dodged. I learned more about fighting in the weeks with Ripper than I had in years of studying in dojos around town. The sword Aidan gave me became more than a clunky piece of steel; it was an extension of my arm. Before long, the constant drilling became a dance, each move, and counter-move becoming a smooth waltz of death. I found myself growing fond of it.
When I wasn’t training, I would pour over my Mom’s journal. I’d read every page, pouring over every word, every diagram. I memorized them as if my life depended on it. I learned the hunting patterns of various creatures, what they ate, and how to kill them. The journal was holy gospel to me, my mom’s way of keeping me safe from beyond the grave. I didn’t trust anyone with it, not even Kat, who fished it off my unconscious body earlier. Several times the novel referred to a lab in Paris, but it changed the subject the next line as if my mom was hiding it. I’d finished my morning exercises with Ripper when I saw Kat strolling down the hall, laughing with my dad over something. I ignored the suspicion that crept up at the gesture and waved at her.
“Hey, what do you know about Paris?”
“Good food, bad traffic,” Dad quipped. “Why?”
“Mom keeps mentioning that she had a lab in Paris.”
Dad shook his head. “I’ve never heard anything about it.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m positive, your mom grew up in France, but she refused to talk about it or go back.”
“Okay, thanks. I’ll flag down Laurie; she might be able to find something.”
“Laurie left, kiddo.”
“What?”
“She said something about needing to get back to her internship. She left this morning.”
I stared wide-eyed at my dad, my words caught in my throat. “She realizes that someone’s hunting for us, right?”
“I tried to tell her that, but she was adamant,” Kat stated. “Do you want me to talk to her?”
I called Laurie several times, but she never responded. I cursed in frustration, almost throwing my phone against the wall.
“No, I’ll get her,” I said, tossing the phone in my pocket
“Are you insane? You do realize that Pyrus is still searching for you. If I go-”
“Then Pyrus can get you and use you to draw me out,” I returned.
“I think I can handle a mercenary.”
“You said earlier that Dad was a legend, and Pyrus took both of us down, without even trying. This is my city; if I can’t get away from him in the middle of downtown, then I guess I’m dead. Besides, how do you expect to get past Olympus security? You’re too young to pretend to be her mother and too old to pose as a friend. I can get in and out without anyone blinking an eye.”
“Well at least bring a weapon,” Kat shouted as I walked toward the door.
“Yeah, I’m sure security is going to have problems with me walking in there with a short sword strapped to my back.”
“Follow me,” she instructed, pulling me into a large, steel covered room.
Weapons of all kinds hung from the walls. Automatic rifles, swords, and even explosives sat next to each other. I stared at a bright green item that instructed ‘This side toward enemy.' I spun it around as Kat opened a drawer, revealing a bright purple cloth.
“Okay, I’m missing something. How is fabric going to help me?”
“It’s called Ghostshroud, or Shroud for short. Hand me your sword.” I gave the weapon to her, glad I hadn’t had time to set it away yet. Kat wrapped the sword in the fabric, and it vanished. I felt around where it used to be, amazed and confused as Kat unrolled the cloth, revealing the sword again.
“Wrap an item in this, and no one can see or touch it except you.”
“Cool,” I said, rewrapping the weapon and strapping it to my back.
“Be careful, if anything happens…”
“I have you and Ripper on speed dial. I’ll give you a call at the first sign of problems.” I raced through the halls and down the stairs to the garage. Dad followed close behind and fished in his pocket for his keys.
“You can borrow my car if you want.”
“I have something else in mind,” I said, grinning as I saw something beautiful sitting there.
The car was a magnificent Shelby Cobra. It was a classic, the kind of convertible my dad drooled over and had pinned in the garage. It was bright blue with twin white stripes running down the middle. The car shone in the dim light of the garage. The seats were a brown leather and felt like a throne the second I sat down. I pulled down the visor, and keys fell into my hand. The car roared to life like a hungry lion and every inch of the car shook, eager to be free of the garage. I raced onto the highway, destined for Olympus.
Olympus was a fortress. Guards patrolled around the perimeter, guarding every doorway, every parking lot, and the streets leading up to the office building. I looked inside the glass structure and saw security checkpoints on every floor and well-armed men patrolled along the hallways. I had a secret weapon, though. One item that let you sneak into a well-guarded fortress and could topple armies.
“Alright, I have a chicken parmesan on white bread, a Philly cheesesteak, two sodas and a cookie. Thanks for shopping at Sandwich King.”
The clerk handed me a bag filled with aromatic food, and I grabbed it. I tossed the bag in the back of the car and hopped in the driver’s seat. I rode down the street and pulled into Olympus parking. I strolled right up to the receptionist and set the grease-stained bag on her desk.
“Hey, I’m here for-”
“That purse is worth more than you make in a year,” she grumbled, glancing up and moving the bag away from the red leather item.
“That’s wonderful. I have a delivery for—”
The receptionist held a single finger up, stopping me. She typed something on a keyboard and pressed against the Bluetooth headset in her ear. I tapped my foot, wondering how suspicious it would be if I punched her and moved on. After many long moments, she glared up at me, tapping her fingers together and raising an eyebrow at me.
“Well? What do you want?”
“I have a delivery for your guys’ Applied Sciences people. Someone by the name of Laurie?”
“Fourteenth floor,” she said, handing me a guest pass. “Take the closest elevator. No wandering around, no snooping. If we find you somewhere you’re not supposed to be; Security will kick you out.”
“Great. Excellent job winning Miss Congeniality by the way.”
I pressed the button for the fourteenth floor where the building map assured me t
hat their biotech division was. A part of me realized I was overreacting, and that Laurie was okay. She was inside the most heavily guarded building in town, after all. Still, she was in the lion’s den, and I’d never forgive myself if Pyrus grabbed her.
The elevator doors opened, revealing a sea of people in the same lab coats. Most stared at computer screens, clicking between diagrammed graphics. Others strode back and forth with samples on polished steel trays. They set them in front of technicians who’d peer at them with high powered microscopes. I navigated through the room until I saw Laurie running her fingers through her hair as she stared at images on the computer.
“Hey,” I said, walking next to her. Laurie’s eyes went wide, a choking sound caught in the back of her throat as she saw me.
“Kacey what the hell are you doing? How…how did you get in?”
“It was easy. You owe me twelve bucks for these, by the way,” I said, setting the bag in front of her. “What the hell are you doing? We were all on lock down, remember? Big, mean people who all want to bring us in.”
“That’s you, not me,” she said, staring back at her monitor. “I still want to help in any way I can, but this…voodoo doesn’t have anything to do with me.”
“We’re in danger, Laurie.”
“I’m a twenty-year-old college student. I doubt anyone cares about me.”
“I care about you, and I don’t want to see you get hurt.” I squeezed her hand, smiling at her.
“I know, but if I lose this internship, that’s it, I’m done for.”
“Yeah, and if this Pyrus guy gets his hands on you, you’re done for.”
Laurie set her glasses on the table. “Kacey, this magic thing might be new and exciting for you and Aidan, but do you know what it is for me? Terrifying. I’ve had my head bashed open and had to watch you haul your broken and beaten dad into the car. There was nothing I could do to help. I’m no good at any of this, and you guys don’t need me, but this I can do.”
“Of course we need you, you’re the brains of the operation. I’m surprised Ripper knows how to use the can opener.” Laurie grinned, and I was about to continue when I noticed a small icon on her screen. The image of a skull resting on the leaves of a rose that lay on her screen was the same image that rested on every page of my mom’s journal.
“What are you working on?” I asked, glancing over Laurie’s shoulder. Pictures of five handwritten pages lay on the screen, each one written in my mom’s elegant calligraphy. The writing had intricate and detailed formulas that I couldn’t begin to identify.
“This? We’re supposed to be recreating someone’s work. I’m expected to analyze the chemical composition and tell my boss if it’s safe or not. It’s some new face cream or something like that.”
“That’s not face cream.”
“How do you know?”
“The handwriting matches my mother’s journal, right down to the icon on the bottom of the page.”
“You’re sure?”
“See for yourself.” I handed her the journal as five large security guards took a step inside the lab.
Four of them had the same polished, black helmet. The one in the lead had the automatic weapon strapped to his chest instead of cradling it in his arms like a newborn. Brown eyes scanned the room, not missing a single detail. A blank expression was on his face, and the image of an eagle clutching an anchor was visible on his brown skin.
“It’s the same,” Laurie stated, staring at her screen with concern. “What the hell is going on?”
“Can’t you tell?”
“No, I’m only given access to a piece of the file for security reasons.”
“Can you get access to the whole file?”
“Maybe, if I can hack into my bosses account.”
“Do it, and hack into the security office while you’re at it. I want to set off a few alarms.”
“Fire, flood, or nuclear attack?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, total bedlam it is,” Laurie stated, watching as lines of text appeared on the screen.
“What the hell…” she exclaimed in a low voice as all color left her face. Her hand shook as she scrolled through each diagram as a few beads of sweat traveled down her forehead.
“What?”
“It’s a virus. The company is designing a programmable virus.”
“Yeah, I almost failed bio. I’m going to need you to walk me through it.”
“Well, a few scientists found out that you can reprogram a virus so that instead of infecting a host body, it alters it, changing the person’s DNA. Doctors use it for cancer treatment. You program the virus to go after cancer cells, and they get eradicated without the need for chemo or surgery. I have no idea what this does, but every subject they’ve tested it on has died.”
“So they’re trying to make a plague?”
“I doubt it. The virus requires blood-based communication to infect someone, and despite what George Romero would have you believe, that’s a horrible method of infection. Also, they file every death as a failed experiment.”
I focused on the security guard as he moved toward the desk of a proud woman who gazed like an eagle across the room. His voice was soft and neutral, yet it carried the ring of command. As I focused, his voice traveled across the lab, amplified, so I heard each word.
“Excuse me, did someone come in here delivering sandwiches? She might have gone by the name Kacey Alexander.”
“Yes, why?”
“Facial recognition picked her up when she walked through the door, and Sandwich King has never heard of her. We’re trying to track her down.”
The woman pointed at me, causing me to gulp. Crap, I thought to myself. That didn't go quite as planned.
Chapter 13
The collection of rent-a-cops marched toward me. I felt Laurie slide a flash drive into my pocket and nodded as I glanced at her.
“Do you still need a distraction?” she said, staring straight at her monitor but watching the guards.
“Maybe. Call Kat and let her know what’s happening. I have a plan.” The guards marched over to me, the lead one crossing his arms over his chest and narrowing his eyes at me.
“Gentlemen,” I said in greeting. “I’m sorry, but my friend and I are in the middle of a delicate experiment. If we could do this another time, I would appreciate it.”
“Save it, Miss Alexander,” the man barked. “I think we both know that you’re not on our payroll.”
“You know my name; that’s not ominous at all.”
“I've learned a great deal about you. Mister Drake has asked to speak with you.”
“And if I refuse?”
“We hold you, call the cops, and charge you with trespassing, illegal entry, and fraud,” he replied, crossing his arms over his chest. “Something tells me you don’t want to spend your college years in the state pen.”
“You’re not wrong about that. Lead the way.” I followed the guards into the elevator, and the head guard stood next to me, a careful eye on my every move.
“You guys are ruining a great stereotype. What happened to guards being too busy watching basketball?”
“You should watch less TV,” he said, smirking. “Besides, football is more my game.”
“Oh. Are you a Denver fan?”
He shook his head. “Seattle.”
“I’ll try not to hold that against you.”
The man chuckled, cocking his head to the side as he inspected at me. “You’re funny. I’m sure you’ll crack your cellmates up."
“Well if you’re still
planning on calling the cops, then this is about to become a different conversation.”
“Even if we don’t, smart money says that by next Wednesday, you’re going to piss someone else off, and they’ll sell you down the river.”
I rolled my eyes as I let my hair down. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know your type. Smart, middle-class girl, whose daddy has enough money and pull to get her out of any trouble. Someone who thinks the rules don’t apply to her. People like you either end up in jail or on the streets.”
“Is that so?”
“Of course. But let me guess, it’s a good thing that you’re running around and getting yourself into trouble. You’re special.”
“Something like that,” I said, tapping my foot as I watched the numbers count up. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Well let’s see, you keep your weapon strapped to your chest instead of the rest of the rent-a-cops who point it at anyone who walks in front of them. Offense intended, by the way,” I said, glancing at the silent security guards who stood in the back of the elevator. “That means someone trained you how to use a weapon. Your tattoo indicates you were in the Marines. Your tattoo seems to suggest you enjoyed your time in the service.”
“Well, I did say you were smart,” he said, raising an eyebrow at me. “How do you know all that?”
“My babysitter used to be in the military. I was curious about it, and he answered my questions.”
“Oh yeah? Marines?”
“Air force.” A half grin appeared on the guard’s face as he watched the numbers on the elevator, causing me to roll my eyes. “My point is what are you doing working for Olympus?”
“At the moment, escorting a teenage hoodlum when I could be doing something productive,” he grumbled.
“Who says hoodlums anymore? My point is that Drake’s dirty, and you know it.”
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