Key to Conspiracy

by Talia Gryphon

  Key to Conspiracy

  TALIA GRYPHON

  With my love and my thanks, to:

  Jill Marrinson, beloved friend for all my life, and her husband, Rick, who understands the intricacies of girlfriend-sisterhood and loves us anyway.

  Lisa Deller, cartouche sister, godmother to my children— we have survived so much together, and it was worth it. Hilly Dubin, for your help in the research of the book, for taking care of my eyes and for being a great godfather to my children.

  Don Akina, convention comrade and fellow rebel. Rock on, Kahuna. Thank you for everything. You know why.

  Megan Bershon, my wise and wiseass, hilarious, stabilizing rock. Woot for the Tennessee Gal.

  Sharie Young, your unshakable faith is a precious gift.

  Karina Beattiger, part of the Axis of Evil Brilliance.

  Brenda Edde, you are an inspiration—a wild woman in her prime with class.

  Rachel Mincey, convention goddess and a great friend.

  Manda Clarke, for every thoughtful thing you do.

  And to my ex-husband, Heinz: I will always love you for giving me our boys. I’m glad we managed to remain friends. Thanks for the support whenever I was struggling.

  Special thanks to my military advisors: Charles Randolph, Sgt. U.S. Army Special Operations Command, Retired; Jon Eppler, Sgt. U.S. Army Reserves Intelligence Analyst; Steven Mills, Sgt. USMC, Retired.

  As always, to Ginjer Buchanan, my wonderful editor, and Joe Veltre, my fabulous agent.

  Talia Gryphon

  Ace Books by Talia Gryphon

  KEY TO CONFLICT

  KEY TO CONSPIRACY

  CHAPTER 1

  THE first sign of trouble came on the huge C-130 cargo transport plane. It had been commissioned to carry Gillian Key, newly recalled United States Marine Corps Captain, Special Forces field operative, and clinical Paramortal psychologist, and her handpicked Re-Con Team from London to Northern Russia on a historic mission. Historic because it was a very public but very necessary operation intended to bring positive public opinion to the Paramortal community at large.

  Their actual assignment consisted of rescuing indigent, orphaned children from child traffickers after a major Russian earthquake. That last detail wasn’t for public disclosure at the moment. The powers that be didn’t want the perpetrators tipped off, so Gill and her group were officially going in as part of an assessment and tracking Team to help search for and rescue missing persons in the area. The camera crew already seated in the plane’s enormous cargo area was a dead giveaway that this was actually a PR assignment, something that didn’t sit well with one individual in particular.

  “Oh hell no! I don’t think so! Aristophenes!” Captain Key was obviously annoyed as she glared at the documentary squad. Anyone watching could tell exactly how she felt by the way she stopped dead in her tracks, then turned to snarl up at the handsome and photogenic Major Daedelus Aristophenes, who was dogging her heels up the ramp into the plane.

  The diminutive, curvy blonde stepped up to her much taller commanding officer, shifted her assault rifle to her other shoulder then poked him in the chest with a rigid index finger.

  “We are rescuing children from the clutches of sick and twisted fucks. This is not a photo op for you to show off your leadership skills and artificially whitened teeth.”

  Daed gazed down at the little fireball, adopting the look and tone he generally used when explaining something complex to a subordinate. “Gillian, this is not for me, this is for your Team. To show the heroic rescue efforts of a Human-Paramortal group who cares more about the safety and well-being of Human children than about rampant political issues.”

  His large hand found her shoulder and he squeezed it in what he thought was a warm gesture. “Think of the good PR you’re about to buy everyone.”

  She mirrored his gesture, reaching up to clap her hand on his broad shoulder, leaning in conspiratorially. “I am about to be very insubordinate and on camera, sir.”

  Her whisper increased in intensity. “You keep those shutter bug shitheads away from me or else.”

  Turning and leveling a chilly green glower on the hapless docudrama boys, Gillian reiterated her point. “This is not a game, people. Children’s lives are going to be at stake as are those of my Team. One camera, one fucking camera, gets in my face or interferes in what we’re trying to do and you will pay dearly for it.”

  There were gulps, gasps and faces paled as she went on, utterly merciless in her rhetoric, “I mean it. You can take all the pictures you want for background and again, when we’re the hell out of there. Then, it had better not be of the kids or of us. Just pictures of the Major announcing a job completed.

  “Anything else and I will consider it a hostile action with an intent to thwart these special ops soldiers in the performance of their duties.”

  She leveled her gaze at every single pair of wide eyes, locking looks with them, making sure they understood her. “And at that point, because you are interfering, I will shoot you. So before you take off a lens cap or load up any film, you ask yourself, is that the hill you want to die on? Clear on that? Good.”

  Without waiting for a response but satisfied they got the point, she moved off to sit with her Team, strapping herself in next to Trocar, her Grael Elf lieutenant, and Humans Kimber Whitecloud, a light weapons expert, and Jenna Blaise, demolition guru, all of whom applauded unnecessarily.

  “Oh, shut up,” she said offhandedly, closing her eyes and trying to think of what to do first when they got where they were going. Not of Aleksei Rachlav, the breathtakingly handsome Master Vampire she’d left behind for the time being. Nope. He never crossed her mind. Yeah, right.

  Luis Clemente, their Vampire pilot Team member, was safely secured in a shielded coffin near the rear of the craft with Pavel Miroslav, budding Alpha Werewolf, watching over him. Humans would be flying them today since takeoff and landing would occur during daylight hours. Besides being a pilot, Luis was also one hell of a soldier, which was why he was along for the adventure. Daedelus wisely kept his distance from the rest of the Team after seeing that Gillian was pissed off. He settled for sitting by the now rattled camera crew.

  Gillian relaxed against the side of the aircraft, focusing on whom to speak with in the area they were going. Her natural empathy would be a help in the process of liberating any children they found. Sometimes, if the exposure to a captor had been long enough or in some cases pleasant enough, Stockholm syndrome could develop—a situation where the hostage becomes sympathetic toward his captor, often impeding rescue efforts or defending his jailer.

  That empathy also allowed her to pinpoint a lie with nearly the accuracy of a Master Vampire or a high-level Fey. Truth was in short supply in black market trafficking but she’d done this before and had confidence in her own abilities and the expertise of her crew. Unbidden, her thoughts did turn to a pair of magical silvery eyes beneath elegantly arched ebony brows. “I am with you, angelica.”

  She jumped. “Stay the hell out of my mind, Aleksei.”

  A low reverberating chuckle stroked through her skull like the finest fur pelt drawn across sensitized skin. “I will not intrude, cara, I simply want you to know that you are not alone.”

  Instead of pissing her off, Gillian felt strangely comforted by Aleksei’s shadow in her mind, a side effect of him receiving her blood through the fang nick during the last kiss they shared. It was very intimate and very erotic to know he was only a thought away from her. Their relationship had been strained owing to the monumental attraction they’d shared, which had started when he was still her patient.

  Until he had officially not been her patient for a long enough time as dictated by her Code of Ethics, they had not been able to act or thi
nk on it. His little erotic display with her before they left on this mission had only piqued her curiosity more. He was waiting for her back in Romania, with the same anticipation she felt about the promise of culminating their relationship.

  Wordlessly, Aleksei sent her the sensation of his arms around her, holding her closely against a heavily muscled chest offering comfort and his strength for the trials to come. Gillian relaxed in those phantom arms and allowed herself to sleep.

  Landing hours later, Gillian woke and knew the Vampire slept, though it was dusk where they now were. There was no ghost in her mind, no feeling of warmth and well-being around her. Shaking herself mentally, she got over it. She’d done her job for years without a big, fanged Romanian teddy bear hovering over her, and she’d do it again.

  The Team organized itself with no help or direction from her. It was second nature—her people knew their jobs and would do them well. Right now, being somewhat unobtrusive was the best route. By the time they were ready, the sun had dipped below the horizon and it was safe to let Luis out of his box.

  Gillian commandeered an extra camera, lights and recording equipment from the docudrama crew with the intent of posing as a part of their group, only there to shoot the aftermath of the earthquakes. They were only too willing to let the little blond powerhouse have whatever she wanted if it kept her attention off them. Daed watched approvingly; this might just work.

  The damage from the massive earthquake was already apparent as they stood looking around. Lights from the airstrip let them see that the tree line was broken in places where huge, gaping tears in the ground were evident. The forest was thick, ancient and foreboding. The huge trees that the quake had felled lay like giant matchsticks over the landscape. There was a raw smell in the air from the open earth, broken trees, the still unlocated bodies. The gashes in the countryside, which spread from the airstrip to the horizon, were like open wounds, the devastation from the crushed houses, buckled roads and crumbling buildings in the little village adding to the horror. In fact, towns within a hundred-mile radius had sustained varying degrees of damage.

  They’d seen death before, dealt with it in battle and on missions, but the bleakness of the situation, the stark terror from the natural disaster radiating in the air, set Gillian on edge. Her empathy screamed at her to help, to nurture the frightened and wounded, to destroy those who were taking advantage of the situation, but she approached it warily, with caution and determination. It was a trait that made her a good leader and an exemplary psychologist. She never let her feelings overwhelm the necessity of the situation.

  Still, Gill felt inexplicably renewed. This was a situation that had nothing to do with Dracula, Fang Wars, historical serial killers or Sidhe protocol, at least not as far as they knew at the moment. This was a crime scene, the whole area; they were the new sheriffs in town to help solve the dilemma. They had perpetrators to find, an area to investigate, victims and a rescue mission to carry out. It was a job she and her Team did well.

  Realizing just how powerless she’d felt over the last year sent a jolt to her sensibilities. As familiar as she was with military procedures and Paramortal psychology, she had been living under a very big cloud for a long time.

  Nothing she’d studied or put into practice with her clients could have prepared her for what they’d all come through so far. She grasped that she’d been second-guessing herself, trying to keep a sharp division between herself as a psychologist and herself as a soldier, and it just wasn’t that simple. It felt good to be in a situation that was new but completely familiar to her. The person inside her who she’d been trying to come to terms with embraced it and reminded her that she was still herself despite everything.

  She took a deep breath of the crisp Russian air. Even loaded with the scents of uprooted vegetation, diesel, unhygienic conditions, burned structures and the faint aroma of decay, it smelled like freedom. It felt outstanding to have a measure of personal proficiency back in her hands.

  As they prepared to mingle and investigate, they all dressed down, not a hint of a uniform or rank about them. Luis wore a ribbed green turtleneck, jeans and hiking boots and carried a rifle over his shoulder, surreptitiously posing as a bodyguard for the group. Trocar and Daed mirrored each other, both in black on black fatigues—the Elf with one of his famous capes, Daed with a black leather jacket.

  Trocar was looking very official with a clipboard and satchel; he would be armed from head to foot, nothing visible until he willed it, his inherent magic just another defense system he put to very good use. Daed stood holding the lighting assembly and extra batteries, his weapons hidden on him somewhere if he carried any, which Gill was betting he did.

  Jenna and Kimber managed to look cute and dangerous respectively. Kimber in a pair of hiking shorts, boots, heavy turtleneck and down vest; Jenna in a dark leather duster over her own olive drab fatigue pants, combat boots and a long-sleeved T-shirt that announced, DON’T MAKE ME GET MY RING, complete with a picture of the “One Ring” from Tolkien on it. Both women were armed—sidearms, knives and UV flashlights, capable of producing enough of the sun’s rays to damage any Paramortal’s vision briefly.

  A black sweater, thigh-length leather jacket, black cargo pants and boots covered the weapons Gill had on her person: her trusty Glock, a UV flashlight, mini-grenade launcher and twelve rounds strapped around her stomach, her silver stiletto in its familiar position in a spine sheath, hidden by her braided hair.

  Since they didn’t know what or who was perpetrating the child trafficking, going in as a camera crew from a popular exploration television program, highlighting the devastating effects of a massive quake on both the environment and the people, was a brilliant cover. Human or non-Human, the monsters who were preying on the tragedy of the children orphaned by the quake had to be stopped.

  Daed briefed them quickly. Intelligence had filtered through that there was a pedophile ring operating soon after the devastation of the area became clear. It was unknown who or what species was stealing Human children from infancy through midteens but the children were disappearing from hospital beds, orphanages, temples, even police stations, within a hundred-mile radius from the epicenter of the quake. At least two hundred children had gone missing and it was up to their Team to rescue and recover the kids alive. Treatment and placement with appropriate homes or shelters would come later.

  Making friends with the local magistrate was Gillian’s and Kimber’s job. Accompanied by Luis as their “guard,” they asked for and received permission to film and research their cover story. Jenna went out to mingle with the community, setting up interview times for families to speak of their losses and concerns. An expert networker, she would have an opportunity to pinpoint some of the families who were missing kids and gauge their reactions. There was the possibility that some could potentially be involved. Pedophilia was possible even within family units. They couldn’t afford to miss anyone who might be a perpetrator of a heinous crime.

  Trocar and Pavel melted away into the thick forest now partially leveled and scarred by the devastation of a quake that measured an 8.8 magnitude on the Richter scale. The Grael Elf could make contact with any local Fey or Elf population faster by himself and a lone Lycanthrope would hook up with other Shifters better without an audience.

  Staying at a Red Cross shelter was an obvious choice. Most of the rescue workers, regional residents and medical support crew stayed there. They had connections to surrounding area hospitals, clinics and staff. The mortuary detail stayed off by themselves, retrieving and numerically tagging bodies, taking pictures of the deceased found and posting them, to make identification faster.

  Within two days, owing to their stellar investigative work, Gillian’s Team had everything they needed to know. Older children had simply vanished from the various facilities during the night; the little ones under the age of three had been claimed by couples who by their descriptions could only be Lycanthropes of some kind in Human form. All of them had appropriat
e documentation but some of the workers had misgivings about the so-called parents. Their fears were realized when the real parents of a few of the kids showed up and demanded their children back. By then it was too late.

  It didn’t take long for the local police department to put all the clues together. The children were being intentionally stolen, most likely for nefarious purposes. The consensus was to stake out some of the likely areas and follow the perpetrators when they actually claimed a child.

  Daed was pacing, diagramming the village and surrounding area on a white board. It wasn’t the first time Gillian noticed his liquid movements. Normally she didn’t think about it much, being in a group of Paramortals, but watching him apart from the rest, his unnatural grace was more evident. Kimber echoed her thoughts, whispering, “What is he?”

  “Shifter of some kind, he’s never told me and I never asked,” Gillian murmured back.

  She hoped that whatever Daed was, it would count for something if they got into a real jam. Wouldn’t help to have him turn into a Werebunny or Werehamster when muscle counted. As she dismissed her errant thoughts, something did occur to her. She unknowingly and reflexively reached out for Aleksei.

  “Why can he be in my mind when Tanis wasn’t? Tanis took blood but he never used his ability . . .” Her thought trailed off and was answered by a deep, familiar, comforting Romanian-accented voice in her mind before it completed.

  “Something has happened here which has allowed my powers to blossom fully. A shift in the very fabric of magic. I suspect Tanis’s will as well. He had been weak for a time because of the torture but is becoming stronger. I do not know what it is, but I am glad I can simply feel that you are all right, dolcezza.”