Nine by Night: A Multi-Author Urban Fantasy Bundle of Kickass Heroines, Adventure, & Magic

by SM Reine

  The first missile hit the front helicopter and exploded.

  I flinched back, unable to tear my eyes away even through Revik’s shielding arm. I watched as black smoke mushroomed up out of the tilting cockpit. Fire billowed out even as the second one came to its end a breath later.

  I watched uncomprehendingly as gravity began to take its toll only a few hundred feet from the roof where we perched.

  Rising abruptly to his feet, Revik withdrew towards the small stairwell, motioning the others back towards the access door even as I heard the crash and grind of metal and glass. I still sat there, numb, as the two helicopters completed their falls, smashing down into whatever had the misfortune of lying on the street below.

  I could feel the seers inside the cockpits, dying.

  I was still standing there when someone grabbed my arm, dragging me towards the open metal door. I didn’t realize until then that they’d all gone inside, that I was out there alone. When I glanced back at Maygar’s face, he only yanked on my arm harder, his eyes and mouth exuding impatience.

  With a last look at the sky, I retreated back indoors with the rest of them, even as the jets’ trails flashed by in tandem overhead.

  Inside the Barrier, winds whip, throwing to and fro the lit strands of billions of interconnected beings.

  The height of the Pyramid stands over London, bending and crushing living lights as members of the Org, the Brotherhood...the Rooks...dive in and out of buildings, through lights and connections, in and out of military and paramilitary and homeland security agents for three different nations. SCARB ran operations by now, even over the local authorities...and even over the Sweeps, their more bureaucratic counterpart tasked with enforcing the Human Protection Act. Both departments had more seers than humans in their ranks these days, of course, but even the human authorities wanted that fact kept from civilians.

  Human beings could be so reactionary, after all.

  Above the mass of uniforms, vehicles and weapons, two light bodies stand alone, watching.

  One directs no small part of the larger organism.

  He does this in the background, using pieces of his mind and light that no longer need to pull from the bulk of his waking consciousness.

  The other, standing next to him, is his oldest friend.

  She’s shielded, Xarethe comments. Likely by Elan’s boy, Maygar. Or those kneelers back in Asia. Maybe even by Dehgoies himself, by now...

  You are sure that Dehgoies is here? Galaith says.

  Her only answer is a shrug as she stares out over darting forms.

  He is alive, then, Galaith breathes, unable to hide his relief. Terian only took him from me. Likely to use him to get what he’s after...

  The other seer doesn’t answer.

  Both of them watch as drones weave a dense, Barrier structure over the tall, white building, focusing primarily on the top floor. The net will push the Seven out. It will keep any out who might try to help them from the Barrier. They will tackle Dehgoies’s construct, following that. Everything done by the Org is systematic, by the numbers.

  It is the reason they are so rarely taken by surprise.

  Xarethe asks, Isn’t it more of a risk, to kill her now? What if she simply returns? She studies Galaith’s light through the Barrier’s dark. We could bring her in alive now. Dehgoies, too. If we have her mate, she will have little choice but to cooperate with us. We could use her to bring the war when we’re ready. On our own terms...

  Galaith smiles wryly. You are assuming this war can be controlled. War can rarely be controlled my friend...and a Displacement even less so than most. His light follows the swarm of drones. And anyway, the Bridge and Alyson are not precisely the same creature. Beneath her surface personality there exists a drive...a pre-programming, if you will. It is very difficult to persuade such an influence. She is not the Bridge so much as possessed by it.

  ...Still, he shrugs, gazing back out over the cloak woven by his drones. She was the first choice to fulfill this role. That does mean something.

  Xarethe thinks about his words. Can it be stopped? In your opinion, Protecting Shield...is it able to be restrained?

  Galaith nods slowly in return, pensive. Yes. I think so.

  And Dehgoies?

  Galaith chuckles. Ah, Dehgoies. What will we do with him? The smile turns affectionate. He deserves partial credit for all of this... He extends a hand over the cloud of drones. But Terian was wasting his time. It was not a temporary shield that we put on Dehgoies’s mind when he left...we broke him entirely.

  He sighs, exuding pale light in a fountain.

  He is purely an invention of the Seven now. More dead than alive...at least in relation to that which he once was. No... he says almost regretfully. We have nothing to fear in him, old friend.

  Xarethe doesn’t answer.

  Peace, Galaith says. It requires constant work, yes? His dark eyes burn like coals. ...I want no more talk of Displacements, or prophesied wars.

  And Terian? she ventures. He is one of the Four, is he not?

  Galaith’s eyes flash as he turns.

  He is, he says, watching her face. Does that surprise you, old friend?

  Somewhat, yes, she says. Does he know of it?

  Galaith’s light form smiles cryptically. I believe he is beginning to suspect...

  And what will you do with him? Xarethe persists. Does it not worry you, that he might start this war, even without your Bridge?

  Galaith smiles once more, clasping his light hands at his back. After a pause, he turns, meeting the gaze of the other.

  I promised my friend Xarethe that I would not exterminate all of her creations.

  His smile grows harder, even as the black eyes turn sharp.

  ...But Terry, he says gently. Your time is up. It is fortunate for me that you are as obvious as you are insane...

  The being calling itself Xarethe turns, its glowing eyes suddenly predatory.

  Galaith adds, I hope, at least, you got the explanations you were hoping for, old friend...

  A bolt of light strikes from overhead.

  Terian sidesteps it, severing his connection to the Pyramid even as he leaves the false imprint of Xarethe behind.

  The darkness disappears...

  ...and Terian jerked open yellow-gold eyes.

  He lay in a cream-colored seat on a private plane, a middle-aged woman with a tennis player’s body. She was on her way to the Hamptons for a week, with husband number two and kids. When she blinked her eyes to clear them, a man appeared over her, holding a gun.

  It was not her husband.

  “Did you really think he wouldn’t hear what you’d been doing, Terry?” the seer asked.

  The woman held up a hand. A diamond wedding ring sparkled from her third finger. “We can talk about this, my brother—”

  The infiltrator fired. The skull of the slim woman in the five thousand dollar Chanel suit blew back from an entry point just at the inside of her right eye, decorating the seat’s upholstery with a sickening thump.

  She slumped forward in the soft leather seat.

  ...just as a different man on another continent approached a girl patiently brushing a pony’s dark mane. She looked maybe sixteen, but the expression in her eyes flashed older as the infiltrator approaching her fit a silencer to the end of his pistol. Her long hair caught in a gust of wind as she struggled to mount the small horse. Before she could get her leg over, he fired...

  ...and now they are aware. All Terians, everywhere. He is on the run, in all his various forms, but Galaith had planned for that, too.

  ...A man in his twenties bolted down an aisle of slot machines, his eyes wide as he scanned for exits. He’d just about reached the cordoned entrance to the cocktail lounge when a security guard stepped directly behind him, stabbing him in the kidney multiple times with a straight-edged knife. Before he could cry out, the same guard jammed a syringe against his neck and hit a button to depress the stopper.

  A crowd gathered
as he convulsed on the carpet, but only the guard saw his eyes flash yellow before he expired...

  ...A businessman in Italy stepped out of his church, looking around frantically for his family’s chauffeured car. He crossed the street with his coat collar raised, lifting a hand for a taxi when unknown persons gunned him down in front of ten witnesses, including the secretary he’d met an hour earlier at a nearby apartment building, and who he’d been banging behind his wife’s back for over three months...

  ...even as with a jerk and a gasp, the Vice President of the United States, Ethan Wellington, sat up in bed.

  For a long moment, he didn’t know what had wakened him, didn’t know what was wrong.

  Then, receiving a number of flashes from the Barrier construct he’d erected over the room, he felt in the bed beside him for the body of his wife, feeling a faint rush of panic when he couldn’t find her. Seconds later, he remembered she was out, touring the Southern states on free school lunches, or one of the other social programs he’d asked her to support. As parts of him whispered in the dark, he found himself thankful for her absence.

  He threw back the covers, shoved his feet into plush slippers and reached for the drawer where he still kept a small gun, like in that apartment he and Helen shared when they lived together in graduate school.

  The door to his bedroom opened.

  Ethan tensed, blinking up into the giant eye of a Maglite flashlight.

  “Good,” he said, exhaling as he recognized Wes, the lead of his security detail. “Have them bring my car around. There’s been a family emergency, and—”

  “Sir,” the agent said. “That won’t be necessary.”

  It occurred to Ethan that he’d made a mistake, even as his eyes adjusted enough to see the gun his security chief held beside the long flashlight. Ethan’s mind toyed with regret—that this wasn’t a seer’s body, that he might have acted faster, that he hadn’t remembered to call Helen that night.

  The agent emptied four chambers into his chest.

  Ethan’s brown eyes flashed yellow as he slid to the bedroom floor, bleeding on the new silk carpet his wife found for them in Dubai during their last trip with President Daniel Caine, Lisa Caine and the twins.

  The last thing Ethan heard was the elongated scream of a siren outside his window, and then everything went dark.

  29

  CONTACT

  I leaned on a walnut bookshelf, watching Revik check a security panel by the study doors. Eddard hovered near him. Jon and Cass stood out of sight of the tall sash windows, looking down onto the street where I could hear the activity ramping up once more. Maygar did the same by a third window, an automatic rifle gripped in his hands.

  While I watched, Jon shoved a gun in the back of his belt, holding another in his good hand, what looked like one of Revik’s Glocks.

  My brother the pacifist.

  I glanced back as Revik passed by where I stood, aiming for the china closet. He moved aside a vase on a nearby accent table and slid a key off the wood with his fingers. I watched him unlock the double hutch doors, pressing a button concealed behind a faux wooden panel.

  The panel slid back, pushing out a velvet-cushioned tray.

  I could only stare as he pulled another handgun off the blue, velvet cloth, checking the magazine for how many bullets remained, then the chamber before handing it to Eddard. He picked up a second gun, then a third. He checked them all, shoving one in his belt before passing the other to Eddard, as well.

  I saw him motion towards me then, still muttering to Eddard in a voice too low for me to hear, and I looked away.

  I held my stomach with one arm. I was having trouble breathing. My brain seemed to have short-circuited somewhere between the conversation over lunch and the two helicopters exploding over the London streets below. Some kind of delayed reaction, maybe...to being fired on by jets, prolonged stress, almost zero sleep in two days, and finding out my best friends were alive and that I was still married to a guy who couldn’t bring himself to look at me.

  I felt a push to move my limbs. I think I meant to walk over to Jon and Cass, but my body must have had other ideas, because I only got as far as the china closet and the exposed tray of guns. Revik no longer stood there. I don’t know when he left, but by the time I reached the tray, he bent over another wall panel on the other side of the room.

  “They changed all my codes,” he said. “We’ll have to take the stairs.”

  I stared at a gun on the tray I recognized. It looked just like the one Revik held all those years ago in Germany. I picked it up, hefting the weight of the metal in my hand. It was so small. It looked like a toy.

  “We can’t take the elevator,” Revik said. I felt his attention on me, but I didn’t turn around. “We have to get to the stairs...now. There’s some chance we can still make it to the basement.”

  “Revik.” Clearing my throat, I shook my head. “No.”

  Everyone paused.

  I thought they’d forgotten me in their panic, but when I turned around, the whole room seemed focused on my face. Even Eddard stared, his expression a mixture of curiosity and pity. It occurred to me that he probably thought I’d snapped. I didn’t look at Revik, but felt his mind slide past my words, still thinking about how we would get out of the building.

  He turned to Eddard. “Get the charges from my room. If I have more clips—”

  “Revik,” I said. “No. We won’t get out that way.”

  He didn’t look at me, but I watched him put a hand on the wall. He turned towards me, still without looking at me, his face closed.

  “Allie. We don’t have any choice.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “Not that way. Please.”

  I saw his jaw harden. He still wouldn’t look at me. “Please trust me on this, Esteemed Bridge. I am not being disrespectful...but I know our options here. This is my home. Let me protect you in it.”

  I saw Jon and Cass stare at him, as if they didn’t recognize him. Then they both, seemingly at the same instant, looked at me.

  “I do trust you,” I said. “But I can’t let you take us out that way.”

  “Allie!” Cass said.

  I looked at her. My whole body was shaking. I stood there, in the middle of the room, barely able to stand upright from the pain in my chest.

  “Allie, what are you doing?” Jon said. His voice sounded shocked.

  Revik stared at me, his eyes flat now, wary.

  I didn’t realize at first I was pointing the gun at him. It wasn’t until I looked at Jon, saw his mouth hanging open, his hazel eyes wide, that I realized something was wrong. I looked down at my hands. They gripped the gun, steady.

  “Allie.” Revik held out a hand. “Please. Give it to me—”

  “No.” I took a step back. “Please, Revik. You have to listen to me. He expects you to do this. He’s counting on it.” My voice lowered, growing angry, but not at him. My eyes blurred as they filled with tears, but I couldn’t care about that either. I knew I was right. I had no idea how I knew, but I did.

  “Please,” I said, my voice thick. “Please, Revik. Please...just listen to me.”

  “I’m listening, Allie,” he said. “Put the gun down...”

  I shook my head, gripping it tighter. He wasn’t listening to me. I could feel it. I’d become a threat in his eyes, a dangerous animal. But I knew he wouldn’t listen to me if I gave him the gun.

  “He wants to shoot at you,” I said. “He knows I’ll do something. Fold something, or break something...or light something on fire. I can’t control it. He must know that, too. It’s gotten worse, Revik...”

  “Allie!” Jon’s voice rose, pulling me to look at him. “Jesus, are you going to shoot Revik? He saved our lives!”

  “Who, Allie?” Cass said. Fear leaked into her voice. “Who wants us to do it? Do you mean Terian? Is Terian here?”

  “No.” Revik’s voice sharpened. He held out a hand towards Cass. “We’re all right, Cass.” He looked at me, and now
he felt angry. “Put the gun down, Allie!”

  I heard all this, and it affected some part of me, but I didn’t take my eyes off his face.

  “Please, Revik...”

  “Please, what?” he said. “What do you want me to do?” He looked at Maygar, and the anger in his face worsened. “What do you want from me, Allie?”

  I shifted my weight, and felt my resolve falter. “Did you give me those numbers?” I said. “On the ship. I thought you were dead...but you did it to keep them from Terian. That was you. It had to be you...”

  Revik’s eyes drew a blank.

  I saw Maygar turn, startled. He stared at Revik.

  “It’s important,” I said. “It’s really important, Revik.”

  “Allie, I don’t know what you’re talking about! I would tell you, I swear I would! But we have to go now...please!”

  “You helped design it,” I said. “The rotating hierarchy.”

  He blanched. Then his jaw hardened more. “Even if I did. I don’t remember...”

  “None of it came back with Terian?” I said. “That’s what he wanted from you, isn’t it? The succession order? So he could go after Galaith?”

  Jon and Cass’s expressions grew openly startled, just before their eyes swiveled almost in unison to Revik’s face. It was enough to confirm what I’d suspected. Then Jon’s voice rose, angry.

  “Did Terian help him remember? You mean when he was beating him unconscious every day? Is that what you’re asking, Al?”

  I turned, staring at Jon.

  I saw Revik look at Jon too, telling him to be silent with his eyes. I focused on the bruises on Revik’s neck, how his clothes hung on his long frame. I lowered the gun slowly, staring between them, then down at my hands, holding the gun.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” I said. All the resolve and tension left my limbs. “I don’t want to hurt anyone...”

  “Maybe not shooting us would be a first step,” Jon snapped. “Jesus, Allie. Have you lost it completely?”