Ruby Morgan Box Set: Books 6-10

by LJ Rivers

  “Right. ’Ang on.” A squelching noise erupted from the speakers in the doors. “Authorisation code Yankee-November-One-Six-Nine,” he said quickly.

  “Authorisation approved. Long time, no see, Paddock,” said a female voice.

  “Mills, is that you?”

  “The one and only. How’ve you been, mate?”

  “Listen, Mills. Get in touch with the commanding officer on site at the London Eye. Missing Mag in The Thames. White Fae, forty-ish, with blonde, reddish-blonde hair.”

  This couldn’t be happening. It wasn’t real. Not Mum. Please, Nimue. Not Mum!

  “—and to have all available rescue personnel search for her. Tell the CO it’s an LOM.”

  “Oh, right. Copy that, Paddock. What’s your twenty?”

  “Entering Threadneedle, ETA at Mag-Ops in five. Have the gate ready for a black Mustang, vanity plate ‘TurnTime’.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Not now, Mills. I’ve got another LOM with me in the car.”

  Something rang strange with Paddock’s words, but I was in no state to grasp what it was.

  The radio clicked off with an audible pop in the speakers.

  “Where are we going,” Jen asked.

  “To Mag-Ops headquarters. It sounds much cooler than it is, but it’s safe, at least.”

  Safe? “Nothing’s safe,” I whispered. “Mum’s not safe.”

  Jen pulled me close. “She might be. We have to stay positive.”

  Positive. The word echoed in my head, pounding from all sides at the image of Mum’s limp body hitting the surface, but the image was so clear and vivid it didn’t budge at all. Somewhere in the hidden files in my brain a man was talking about impact speed, seat belts and body weight. The voice became clearer, and soon my old driving instructor, Evan something, said ‘crashing at forty miles per hour without wearing a seatbelt is the same as being hit by a twenty-ton brick wall’.

  Hurt on impact.

  And I had missed her with two force fields.

  The blaring horn from a lorry wiped Evan something from my thoughts. Jen was pushed close to me as Paddock threw the car into a lower gear and turned sharply to the left. The roaring engine responded to his commands, and we were pressed back in our seats.

  “Just around the corner now,” he grunted and pulled the black and chrome steering wheel hard to the right.

  “I can’t go in there naked,” Jen said. “How’s the policy on bringing pets to work, Paddock?”

  “They’re used to all sorts.”

  “Good. Sorry, but it’s going to be tight for a few seconds back here.”

  Before I had time to say anything, her white, furry face pushed into the window next to me.

  “Are you unhinged?” Paddock cried. “I thought you meant shifting outside the car.”

  The backrest of the passenger seat snapped in half as the wolf expanded to her natural, giant form, and her tail hit the dashboard in a steady rhythm. Jen’s eyes met mine, and she licked the tip of my right ear.

  “I can’t live without Mum,” I whispered. “We have to go back and find her.”

  The tyres screeched as Paddock slammed on the brakes. He rolled the car gently over two speed bumps before the streetlights disappeared and we entered a dark underground garage.

  “Bugger me if I know how that one’s going to get out of here,” he mumbled as he backed into a parking spot. “It’s not like I can afford to fix this thing.”

  I couldn’t care less about his car. All I wanted was to get back to the river and find Mum. I reached for the door handle, but couldn’t find it. An enormous wolf was in the way.

  “Let me out,” I said.

  Paddock exited and stepped around the car to open the passenger door. It was like opening a shaken can of soda. Jen spilt out, tail and back part first. I half expected a popping sound, like a champagne cork. I followed her, leaning on the once foldable, now broken passenger seat, and stumbled out on the dusty, concrete floor.

  “Blackie will kill me for ruining his car. That is, if he ever finds out who … borrowed it.”

  “If that’s your concern, you can relax,” I said and got to my feet. I brushed the dust off my knees and palms. “There’s no more Blackie.”

  Paddock made an exploding gesture with his fingers. “You mean, he was in the middle of that?”

  “Pretty much. But listen, can you take me back there? Mum’s in the—”

  “Ruby!” Charlie came running from the sliding lift doors on the other side of the garage. “Are you OK?”

  She threw her arms around me, almost pushing me down to the dust again. “I spoke to Travers. It’s Elaine, isn’t it? They haven’t found her yet, but he promised me they won’t give up the search until she’s safely on solid ground again.” Her voice was trembling, and I knew how scared she had to be as well.

  “He said that?”

  “Mhm.”

  I could tell she was glossing over the truth, maybe as much for her own sake as for mine.

  “Let’s go upstairs. We can monitor the whole situation from Command Central.”

  “I can’t,” I said. “I need to go find Mum.”

  Charlie folded her hands over mine and lifted them up to her heart. “The best place for you right now is here. I don’t have to tell you what a battlefield the park has turned into.”

  She led us to the lift. It was only slightly bigger than the inside of Paddock’s car.

  “I’ll take the stairs,” he said and disappeared through a side door.

  Charlie, Jen, and I squeezed into the small compartment. We all let out an audible breath when the doors slid apart on the eighth floor. We spilt out of the lift and Charlie ran to a workspace in a corner. It wasn’t hard to tell it was her space, with a photo of Charlie’s Angels floating between three computer monitors. She had superimposed Jen’s, her own, and my face on the bodies of Cameron Diaz, Lucy Liu, and Drew Barrymore but with such expert skills that it was impossible to spot.

  The room was otherwise occupied by about twenty people, most of whom were busy in front of their own screens. It looked straight out of one of Dad’s favourite TV shows, 24. There were loads of computer screens, busy operators, and people running while talking in headsets. I almost expected to hear a blonde woman shout into her headset that she was uploading the blueprint to the terrorists’ bunker to Jack Bauer’s PDA.

  A woman approached us, and she was indeed wearing a headset. She had no name tag, but given her short, bulky stature, pitch black hair and equally black eyeliner, she looked nothing like Chloe from 24. “Is it a Pure?” she asked.

  “Huh?”

  She scratched Jen behind her ear. “I’ve never seen such a magnificent specimen. She has to be Pure.”

  “Who’s in charge of searching for my mum?” I said briskly.

  The woman turned and gave a whistle. The hum of voices and clacking of keyboards stopped instantly. “Any news of the LOM search?”

  “Negative,” responded three voices in unison.

  “Mickelson? Who’s on the other end?”

  A young man in an AC/DC T-shirt stood. “Travers, ma’am. Three diving teams from the Met, a couple of Waterbenders helping.”

  “Elementalists,” the woman said under her breath. “We don’t use the slang terms.”

  “I need information,” I said through gritted teeth. “I need to find Mum.”

  “I know, love. You must be so worried, but trust me, we’re doing everything possible to find her.” She slapped her forehead so hard the three rings in her left ear rattled together. “But by all the Pixies and Fae in Avalon! Where are my manners! I’m Colleen Barlington, Operations Coordinator.”

  I absentmindedly shook her hand. “Ruby Morgan.”

  Her eyes lit up. “Hargraves’ flatmate. I’ve heard so much about you, Miss Morgan.”

  “Y—you have?”

  “Let’s not waste time on that now. Suffice to say your actions at the Camelot farm made us pay extra attention.�
�

  “Whatever.” I waved her off. “I just want to find her.”

  “The second I know anything about your mother, so will you. I give you my word, Ruby. Can I call you Ruby?”

  “Sure.” I nodded, glancing at the screens. “I should be there.”

  Jen growled in protest.

  “Your wolf is right. If you go, there’s no way we can guarantee your safety. We’re not remotely close to having the situation under control yet. Over two hundred dead so far. And there’s going to be many more before—”

  “Jarl Colburn’s one of them. I watched him die.”

  The keyboards and voices had slowly started buzzing again, but stopped once more. All faces turned my way. “What did she say?” someone asked.

  “Are you sure, Ruby?” Barlington asked.

  I raised my chin, gazing over the wide-eyed inhabitants of Mag-Ops headquarters. “Gemma Todd—I’m sure you all know her—shot and killed Jarl Colburn. I watched it happen from a position of no more than five feet away. First a gunshot to the chest and then one just above his right eye.”

  I hesitated. The next words I spoke would mean revealing secrets to a whole room full of strangers. But this was too important to think of protecting my identity as a Mag. I took a deep breath.

  “My name is Ruby Morgan, and I’m a Fae.” And a Sorceress, but something made me keep that to myself. “I tried healing Colburn, but he was definitely dead.”

  “They know who you are, Ruby,” Paddock’s voice whispered in my ear. I hadn’t noticed him entering. “You’re the first LOM at Mag-Ops. Relax. These are your friends.”

  “Paddock is right.” Barlington smiled apologetically. “Our files on you and your mother are quite extensive. But back to Colburn. Did any rescuers—?”

  “His brains were splattered on the grass under some bushes at the south end of Jubilee Gardens. And I couldn’t heal him. He’s dead.”

  Barlington took my hands. “It’s all right, Ruby. I believe you, of course.” She turned to one of the operators. “Smythe?”

  “On it, ma’am.” She tapped her keyboard and spoke into her headset. “Nine-alpha-zero-two. Colburn’s down. I repeat, this is nine-alpha-zero-two. Jarl Colburn is down, presumed dead. South end of—”

  Her voice vanished into the distance. Barlington’s hands were warm and gentle, but they didn’t feel like human hands. I looked around the room. It hadn’t occurred to me before, but now the vague auras around several of the operators shone like bonfires. Mags.

  "—correct, sir.” Smythe’s voice came back. “It was witnessed by LOM, confirmed at HQ.”

  I threw my hands in the air. “For the love of the Lady, can someone please tell me what LOM means?”

  “Over here, Ru.” Charlie waved at me.

  I went to her desk, Jen padding behind me.

  “These guys have only heard about LOMs, and you’re the first one to actually show up, let alone the first here at HQ. A ‘Level One Magical’.”

  “Level one?”

  “The Mag equivalent of VIPs to us here at Mag-Ops. LTMs are level twos, and then there’s LLMs.”

  “Don’t tell me. ‘Low Level Mags’?”

  Charlie nodded.

  “That’s terrible. Who decides which Mags are less important than others?”

  She shook her head. “No one. The levels are indicators of powers. All Mags are considered equally important. Truthfully, though, LOMs are considered the coolest.” She cleared her throat. “But don’t tell anyone I said so, OK?”

  I rolled my eyes. “What do you know about getting another LOM here tonight?”

  Charlie’s eyes were red. I wanted to say something, but she returned her focus to her screens. “Barlington was right about the situation not being under control yet. But the news of Colburn’s death might help calm things down. Or not. It could also spur his followers, but somehow I don’t think they’ll have the spirit in them to fight once their general has fallen in battle.”

  “You make it sound almost honourable, but she killed him in cold blood.”

  Jen curled up next to Charlie’s desk, her icy stare lurking under half-closed eyelids. She must be exhausted, but I had been so occupied by my own problems that I had ignored everyone else.

  “Could we get her some water, you think?”

  “I’ll do one better,” Charlie said. She tapped her keyboard. “Zippy? Hargraves here. I’ve got a wolf Shifter in desperate need of food and drink. Got something? Great! Yes, at my desk.”

  She smiled at me. A smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “We get all kinds here. Zippy—”

  “Charlie?” I put my hand on her shoulder. “I know how much you love Mum, and it’s OK to be scared. You don’t have to be brave for me.”

  She swallowed. “I kind of have to. If I let myself crack, I’m useless here.” A tear fell from the corner of her eye. She didn’t bother wiping it. “But thanks.”

  I nodded.

  She squared her shoulders, held her breath for a couple of seconds and let them drop again as she exhaled. She scratched Jen’s right ear. “So, Zippy runs the most amazing cafeteria, and I bet he’s got a deer’s leg or a couple of rabbits in his impressively well-stocked storeroom.”

  Jen pricked her ears and gave Charlie’s hand a generous lick.

  “I know, love. You’ve had a hell of a night.” She pointed at the middle screen. “Seems the prime minister has invoked a state of emergency in all major cities. There hasn’t been an official announcement yet, but look here.”

  I leaned in, swallowing the lump in my throat. Four images from various security cameras showed armed vehicles rolling through the streets. Charlie hit a key, and the images changed to four other cameras. Uniformed soldiers, armed to their teeth, were stationed on corners. On the lower left screen a square of five by five soldiers were running across Trafalgar Square.

  “This is insane,” I muttered. “It’s like those news reports from Baghdad or Syria.”

  A young man entered the room from a side door, carrying a large bucket. Jen let out a little yip and got to her feet.

  “You’re gorgeous,” the man said to Jen, then turned to me. “Pure?”

  “No. But worth ten times more than any Pure.”

  “Hi, love,” he said and stroked Jen’s forehead. “I hope this helps. I’m Zippy, by the way.”

  “Her name is Jen,” Charlie said. “And don’t talk to her as if she’s a puppy. She’s about eight leagues above you, Zippy.”

  Zippy grinned at her and placed the bucket in front of Jen. The smell of raw meat filled the air, and I could feel my stomach take three somersaults. I hadn’t eaten in hours, but right now, I couldn’t have kept anything down.

  Jen wagged her tail as she devoured whatever animal parts Zippy had brought her.

  Charlie tapped Zippy’s arm. “Thanks a bunch. I’ll have her send you an autographed photo.”

  Zippy laughed. “Do that, Hargraves. Right, I’ll split. Later, Miss Digiwitch.”

  “Later.”

  “Listen up,” Barlington shouted. “Commander Travers is on MBC12. I’ll put him on the monitors now.”

  Travers’ face appeared on Charlie’s monitor. I glanced around the room and saw two dozen copies of him on the other computers. He was standing in front of a black SUV, holding his finger to his ear. Blood trickled down his left cheek, and he looked dirty and battered.

  “It’s fading,” he began. “Crowd dispersed, the PM’s giving a press conference in ten minutes.”

  “SOE,” Charlie said loudly. A few of her colleagues nodded and gave her a thumbs up.

  “We’ll stay for a while. Is the LOM on site?”

  “Yes,” Barlington replied, her Goblin aura clear as a neon sign now. How had I not picked up on it before?

  “Give her a headset,” Travers said.

  Charlie handed me her headset. “Here, talk to him.”

  I put it on and adjusted the flexible microphone arm slightly. “This is Ruby Morgan,” I said he
sitantly.

  “Hello, Ruby. I’ll be blunt, as you no doubt have only one thought in mind. We haven’t been able to locate your mother yet.”

  My knees buckled, and I had to lean on Charlie’s desk to keep from falling. “Wh—what does that mean?”

  I knew what it meant, but hadn’t—couldn’t admit the truth to myself. But I had seen her fall. Had seen the impact. Three hundred feet through the air. How fast would that be? More than forty miles per hour. Much, much more.

  Twenty-ton brick wall.

  “—give up yet. I’ve called in two more diving teams from the Metropolitan. I’m sure we’ll find her, Ruby.”

  Yes, I thought, but in what state? “Thank you.” And then, as if I cared: “Any sign of Gemma Todd?”

  Travers said something in reply, but his words faded. I slid down to the floor, the image of Mum falling playing on repeat in my head. Two orbs had flown right over her. Two translucent spheres that could have saved her. But I had missed.

  I could have saved her … life.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  I was sinking. The tepid water surrounded me. It swallowed me and pulled me down. It was dark. And lonely. I couldn’t see.

  Where was she?

  ‘Mum!’ I called out silently as my voice did nothing but create bubbles that multiplied and floated to the surface somewhere far above. My hands slid through mud and grains of sand, sinking into the bottom of the river. I couldn’t find her. Shadows surrounded me, suffocating me. I couldn’t breathe in the nothingness, but I didn’t have to. The shades and I had merged, and I felt weightless in the darkness when someone pulled me through. Water and shadows rushed by as I was hurled away from the river. Shivering and alone yet again, I waded through the blackness.

  Mum! Where are you!

  “Ruby! I’m here.” Someone said my name, but it sounded so far away, as if I were still submerged and someone was calling to me from the shore. My head was throbbing, and my throat was clogged. Shaking my head, I rocked back and forth, my hands over my ears.

  “Ruby!”

  Who was that? I knew that voice, didn’t I?

  “How long has she been like this?” the voice asked.

  “Since they called off the search,” another voice answered. Jen, I thought.