Wild is the Blue

by Cecilia Randell

  His arms tightened.

  “That means I made the throw. That means even if the other blades had missed, mine still would have taken him down.”

  He sat on the bed, Blue in his lap, and buried his face in her neck.

  “That means I really am starting to be able to take care of myself.”

  He grunted.

  “Which means I’m harder to kill.”

  “Shopa, cease. Your words are not as reassuring as you may think they are.”

  She leaned back into his warmth. “Oh.”

  Silence fell. This time she let it. Maybe he just needed to hold her, reassure the protective barbarian side of himself that she was alive and well.

  Her mind wandered back to the moment her blade appeared in that guy’s neck. The blood that fell from the wound, the way he collapsed. She braced herself, expecting remorse, or guilt, or even that numbing shock to come in on her—some kind of after-reaction.

  It didn’t come.

  “Honey buns?” she asked.

  Mo’ata rocked her in his arms. “Hmmm?”

  “You’ve ever killed someone, right?”

  The rocking stopped. “Yes,” he murmured into her neck.

  Smoothing her hand over his arm, she thought about how to word her next question. “How do you usually feel after?”

  At that he did move, pulling his head away and staring down at her. “Are you asking as my shopa or as a provisional agent of the order?” A smile briefly warred with concern, until he finally settled on the careful blankness she usually associated with him being in agent-mode.

  “Kind of both?”

  “It is quite usual to have a reaction to killing your first man. I—“ he swallowed. “Well, mine was on an operation much like this, except in the University dorms. A man had been smuggling girls from a closed—“

  She laid her hand over his mouth and shook her head. “Not that I don’t want to hear about the first time you killed a man, but that’s not what I mean. I am surprisingly, at least to me, fine. I didn’t answer you before, because I had to think about it. I expected to be in hysterics by now, but I’m… not.”

  “Oh.” Mo’ata stared down at her with wide eyes.

  “Is that bad?”

  “No, just—“ He broke off.

  “Just unexpected,” she finished for him.

  “Not to me,” Felix said from a few feet away.

  She jerked in Mo’ata’s arms and the clansman glared at Felix. How did he even get in without them noticing? “Is there a secret passageway hidden in the walls or something? How did you do that?”

  Felix shrugged and grinned.

  Her door slid open once more to reveal Forrest, Levi, and the piquets.

  “What are we talking about?” Trevon asked as he strode into the room just as the door was about to close behind everyone. “Also, Blue looks fine, are you sure you weren’t panicking, barbarian?” He slipped passed everyone and sprawled out on her bed.

  Oh, good, everyone was here in time to hear her say she felt just fine about killing someone. Yay.

  “Blue is worried because she doesn’t feel worse about her possibly being the one to take out the assassin,” Felix told him. They grinned at each other.

  “Since when are you two so friendly?”

  The smiles turned into frowns. Felix looked away and Trevon shrugged.

  Garfield propped his front paws on Mo’ata’s knees and chirped up at them. Pack-mom good. Protect pack. Protect almost pack. Hurt bad man.

  Was the piquet calling Felix’s family almost pack? Interesting.

  Garfield kept nudging at them until Mo’ata scooted back onto the bed, taking Blue with him and crowding out Trevon. The piquet curled up between Blue and the Family head, purring. Pack good, he sent again.

  Vivi butted her head against Felix’s leg, urging him toward the bed as well.

  “Puppy pile!” Forrest yelled as he raced past the mercenary and jumped on the bed.

  Blue laughed. Then she held her hand out to Levi and Felix. Who was she to gainsay overly intelligent felines? “Come on, let’s have a cuddle puddle.”

  Felix narrowed his eyes at the already crowded bed, and the sliver of space left next to Trevon. Levi shook his head but joined them, sitting on the edge of the bed farthest from the door. Finally, Felix sighed and strode over. He crawled over the Family head and pushed him to the edge of the mattress, so that Blue was now sandwiched between Garfield, Felix, and Mo’ata.

  It took a bit more maneuvering, but finally everyone had either a piece of headboard to lean against, or a large enough space to curl up in. Forrest, Levi, and Trevon all managed to get a hand on her, even though the Family head was practically hugging the mercenary.

  “Cuddle puddle,” Levi mused. “I am not sure if this is the most… comfortable for all of us.” His gaze was trained on Felix, whose sour expression told them exactly what he thought of having Trev pressed against his back.

  The hooligan in question propped himself up on his other arm and peeked over the mercenary’s shoulder. “So, what’s this about you being sad that you’re not sad that you killed the murderer before he could murder anyone?”

  Blue rolled her eyes. “Give me a moment while I wade my way through that tangle. And it’s not that I’m sad that I’m not sad,” she frowned as she replayed her own words. Damn, the hooligan was rubbing off on her. “It’s more that I’m worried that I should feel… guilty? Sorry?”

  Trev shrugged. “I wouldn’t be.”

  Felix sent his elbow into Trev’s abdomen and the hooligan fell of the bed with a thud. “As much as I hate it, I agree with the criminal. Some people are better suited to this line of work. If you agonized over every person who might need to die, it would be very hard to do this job.”

  That… made sense in a very cold kind of way. “Is that how it is with you?”

  Green eyes bore into her. “There are always exceptions, but… yes. You just have to be careful not to go too far, to stop seeing everyone as human.”

  “People die, little star,” Trevon said from beside the bed. Then he crossed the room and settled into one of the chairs.

  “Oh. Okay.” She’d need some time to process all that. But, part of her knew they were correct. They couldn’t do this job if they constantly worried about someone losing their life—on either side of the game, as Trev liked to call it.

  If she was preoccupied with the possibility of her or one of her guys getting hurt, it would only distract her. Which would get someone hurt. The same could be said for the guys. If they worried about her too much…

  Screw taking it easy. Back to the crazy training schedule I go.

  “Was that what had you so worried?” Forrest asked. It took Blue a moment to realize he spoke to Mo’ata.

  The clansman’s cheeks heated. Blue burrowed her head against his chest and breathed in herbs and pine. “Sort of? She was just…”

  “Your mom came to see me just before Mo’ata showed up,” she told Felix. He stiffened behind her. “I invited her for a visit over the next term-break. I’m pretty sure she said she would come.”

  “That… will be nice,” he said in the most neutral of neutral voices.

  “I don’t think she likes me, despite what you said. Actually, she told me she doesn’t, but that she really didn’t have a choice but to allow the formal trial-period.”

  “Pet, my mother never does anything unless she wants to.”

  “If you say so.” Blue yawned. “So, what’s the plan from here?” She may as well ask. It’s not like they really had all that much to hide from the general. Except maybe the cubs’ abilities. And Forrest. And the truth of their past adventures. Okay, there was still plenty to hide, just not about this assignment.

  “Now we sleep. And tomorrow we regroup,” Mo’ata told her. “General Audal has agreed to a joint effort with the Order.”

  She closed her eyes and snuggled deeper into the warmth that surrounded her. “Let me guess,” she mumbled. “We
’re liaising.”

  Felix’s chest shook behind her and Forrest snorted.

  “Yes,” Mo’ata said. Lips pressed to her forehead. “Sleep, shopa.”

  “M’kay.”

  Just as she drifted off, Trevon whisper yelled, “And maybe we can take that vote?”

  Chapter 34

  JASON

  He shoved his hands deeper in the pockets of his coat and ducked his chin into his scarf as the wind picked up. Fucking November in Colorado. And December was only going to be worse.

  Idly, he ran his gaze over the entrance to New Green Solutions, Inc. as he strolled by. The company was set up in an old warehouse district on the outskirts of Englewood, near the light rail route. The area was slowly being bought up by up and coming businesses and ambitious college grads eager to prove their worth by starting up a new enterprise.

  It was the perfect place to hide. Not so upscale that the eyes of the community would be watching, and with enough change week to week and month to month that whatever New Green Solutions was up to could be hidden in the bustle of renovations and upgrades and constantly changing neighbors.

  Coming to the corner, he crossed the street and continued on his way. This was his third time coming down on the light rail in as many days. He was pushing it, seeing as Emily knew his face.

  More and more his decision to not contact Trevon weighed on him. This was all too like when Blue, Kevin and the others had first transported to Karran. He’d been unable to say anything. His orders were to say nothing.

  It had ultimately cost Derrick, and likely Eric and Danny, their lives. If Jason had spoken up as soon as the portal triggered, it’s quite possible they would have never been taken by the kidnappers, and Phillip would have never turned into… what he turned into.

  A sign across the street caught his eye.

  Now Hiring.

  The storefront was bare, but from the equipment inside, it looked like it would become either a coffee shop or a cafe of some sort.

  It also had a great view of New Green Solutions.

  Jason headed over.

  A tinkling chime sounded as he pulled the door open. A messy head of dark hair popped out of a back door. “Hey. With you in a minute, man.”

  Jason waved a hand and wandered around. Pulling out his phone, he pretended to check it as he snapped a few photos of across the street.

  “So, here about the job?” The messy head was back. Slight build, medium height, skinny jeans and flannel.

  “Umm, yeah. Jason.” He held out his hand.

  “Connor.” They shook hands and Connor jerked his head toward the back. “Come on. Right now I mostly need help getting everything in place. Any good with a jackhammer and saw?”

  Jason’s eyes went wide.

  Connor laughed. “Kidding. But you should see your face, damn.” He turned and headed for the back room. “I’ll admit a bit of do-it-yourself knowledge will be useful, and a strong back, which you obviously have.” Connor twisted and eyed Jason’s shoulders. “The rest of the equipment is arriving tomorrow. I want to open in two weeks.”

  “And this place will be…?”

  “Oh!” Connor spun back around, just outside the back room. “Coffee shop.” He craned his head to peer over Jason’s shoulder. “Guess I forgot to put that on the sign.” Spinning around once more, he stepped into the back room. “Our thing is we roast our own beans.” The voice grew muffled.

  Jason followed him. From the machines up front he’d guessed coffee shop, but not this. Something that looked like a giant bread machine crossed with a furnace took up most of the center of the room. Shelves and bags lined two walls. The far wall had two more doors.

  “Office and supply closet,” Connor explained.

  “Roasting your own beans?”

  Connor’s dark hair flew as his head bobbed. “Yeah. There’s tricks to it, but I’ve been experimenting for a few years now. Good enough to get the loan, at least. I figure this area is going to take off soon.”

  Jason smiled. “I think you’re right. I’ve been looking for something in the area. I’ve got another gig, bartending, but it’s up by the University, and I live closer to here,” he said. The last was a lie, but it served his purposes.

  Dark eyes lit up. “Yeah? If I give you some opening flyers, think you could put them out? Lots of University kids come down here on the weekends, or live on the edges of the suburbs.”

  “I can ask my boss.”

  “Perfect, perfect. I mostly need someone for afternoons. Got another girl for mornings, she’s also providing a few baked treats, cooks out of her home. Best blueberry muffins. Can you start tomorrow? I could use the muscle.”

  The words poured over Jason and he let Connor wind down before he even tried to answer. “I could do that. You have paperwork I should fill out?”

  Connor looked around the shop. Protective plastic covered the counters and a portion of the floor. Tables and chairs were stacked to one side. Boxes lined another wall.

  “You know what,” Jason said. “I can fill it out tomorrow.”

  Relief filled the other man’s face. “That would be better.”

  Not only was this place perfectly situated to watch over his new lead, this guy really did need all the help he could get. “I’ll be here. Two o’clock?”

  “Can you do 1:00? I’ve got that delivery at 1:30, and that’ll give you a chance to fill out the forms.”

  “I can make that.”

  “Perfect. Um, you wouldn’t want to help me move a few things now, would you?”

  He checked the time. It was about 3:00. “For about half an hour, at least today. My other boss wants me in a little early. Inventory.” Jason grinned as Connor shuddered.

  For the next half hour he hauled boxes and stacked bags of beans while Connor fiddled with the valves and settings for the roaster, chattering all the while.

  Kind of reminded him of a hyper, male version of Blue.

  And now everything is reminding you of Blue. Fuck, Jason, just give in to the inevitable.

  And now I’m talking to myself.

  Jason waved to Connor as he left, retracing his steps to cross in front of New Green Solutions one more time. Not looking at the building, he kept his phone out and loose in his hand, snapping a constant stream of photos as he passed. The likelihood of anything interesting was almost nil, but that was how this job was done. You chipped away at the puzzle one piece, one clue, at a time.

  He was about two blocks away when a body barreled into him from the side. Stumbling, Jason caught himself against the side of an un-renovated warehouse. The cold metal siding bit into his fingers. “Shit,” he muttered, shaking his hand. He looked up and froze. “You.”

  It was the guy from the alley.

  Eyes blood-shot and rolling, the ragged man gripped Jason’s shoulder. “Don’t do it. It’s dangerous, what you’re thinking. They’ll find out. They did with me. Don’t do it, don’t do it. Miyari has nothing on these men.”

  Jason’s hand shot up and grabbed the man’s collar. Pulling him down the street, he found a narrow alley that ran behind two warehouses and pulled the man into it. “What do you know?”

  His head tilted. “He’s not dead, you know. They think he is, but he’s not.”

  Jason thumbed on the record function on his phone. “He, who?”

  “Doesn’t matter if you know who he is, he knows who you are.” Cracked lips spread into a crazy grin. “All dead, all dead, and me soon after.” The man twisted from Jason’s grasp like it was nothing.

  Once again Jason noted the strength in that deceptively thin body. “Hey, why don’t you come with me? I could get you something to eat, we can talk.”

  “Nope, nope, nope, I do that we all die. Dead, dead, dead.” The man spun.

  Jason lunged, but the man was gone. Just like that night, the homeless man disappeared before Jason could blink, leaving him with nothing but empty hands and nonsense rambles.

  One thing was clear to him now. The
attack in the alley behind the bar was no coincidence. The man obviously knew who Emily was, where she worked. Did he know who—what Jason was? Had he staged the attack there on purpose to catch Jason’s attention?

  Either way, this was no longer a simple observe and relay type of mission, if it ever had been. This man had mentioned Miyari, and most likely knew who the backer was.

  Jason needed to get home, now.

  He needed to contact Zeynar.

  Jason got the coffee going and plugged his phone in to download the photos. He needed to put everything together before calling Zeynar.

  You could call Blue, too.

  Shut up, mind.

  Would it really be so horrible? Just a conversation every once in a while, to remind himself there are other people out there, that he wasn’t alone.

  The progress bar hovered at fifty percent as it hit the batch of photos Jason had taken that afternoon. Pulling out an older laptop from which he’d disabled internet access and modified to interface with the Ministry issued comm, he began typing up his report for the afternoon.

  The main computer dinged and he set the report aside.

  First, sort the images, see if he’d caught anything useful, any new faces.

  Most were empty, or a blur of green and grey. But there were four that could be useful. One looked like it caught a partial profile of the homeless man standing at a shadowed corner of the warehouse housing the business. Another showed the backs of two people in reception, caught through the glass doors. A third was of Emily as she greeted those people. The last was of the man on the left, again a partial profile, as he turned to talk to his companion.

  Dammit. You couldn’t do better?

  Jason shook it off. No use in berating himself.

  Transferring the useful photos over, he finished his report, including a transcription of the homeless man’s conversation, just as he finished his coffee. No doubt Connor would be just as horrified by my sludge at Zeynar was.

  Jason moved to his couch. The next step was easy. Easier than writing the report, really. All he had to do was push a button and make a call. Nothing to it.