Federal Agents of Magic Boxed Set

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Federal Agents of Magic Boxed Set Page 3

by T. R. Cameron


  Trent was fantastic with people and had a knack for appearing unthreatening. His cover was a low-level functionary with the State Department, which fit his blond, clean-cut California-boy look well. When he reached them, he positioned himself between the two, his body slightly closer to Diana.

  The earpiece carried his confident voice cleanly. “Ladies, I noticed you from afar.” He gestured toward Lisa. “I think I recognize you from somewhere. Are you with a law firm that does government work, maybe?”

  She nodded with a neutral expression. “I do. Where do you think our paths crossed?”

  He shrugged. “I’m with State, and we contract a lot with local firms. So, really, whenever I see someone who looks smart and capable and even half-familiar, I figure they’re a lawyer.”

  Lisa laughed. How she managed to sound so sincere, Diana would never know. “Fair enough. What can we do for you, Statie?”

  “Nothing much. I wanted to see if you’d be interested in joining me for a drink.” He gestured at an empty table far from where Bryant sat.

  “Only me, or both of us?” she asked.

  Diana chimed in, recognizing her cue and putting some sultry in her voice. “Because we’re something of a package deal. We are very fond of one another.” She put her palm on Lisa’s thigh and received a grin in return.

  Bryant smiled as well and smothered it behind his hand as he reached up to scratch his nose at the table. If he hadn’t been fully briefed on the relationship between the two women, he might’ve bought the idea that they were romantic partners. Background checks revealed each had dated people of a different gender extensively but not seriously over the last couple of years. He had to admire the play, though. It would set many an admirer back on their heels.

  Not Trent. The man gave his casual guy-friend grin. Bryant was sure he practiced those looks in the mirror daily. “All options are on the table, but I’d consider it a privilege to chat to both of you.”

  Lisa shifted her gaze to her companion. “What do you think?”

  Diana leaned back and looked at him. “Well, he is attractive. He probably works out fairly often. I’d say something gentle based on his pretty hands.”

  Trent laughed. “Jujitsu, actually.”

  She nodded. “I can always recognize another practitioner.”

  “How long?”

  “A couple of years as part of mixed martial arts training. I’ve ranked up once.”

  He shifted a few degrees toward her and his grin broadened. “I’m your superior, then. I’m purple.”

  The women both laughed at him, and Lisa shook her head. “Bold. But you’re right. Cute.”

  Trent looked satisfied. “So, is that a yes?”

  Bryant knew they’d toyed with Trent and was sure he was aware of it too. But just as the game was starting, Diana brought it to an end.

  “Only you, or will your friend join us?”

  He tried to bluff. “My friend?”

  Lisa nodded. “The guy you were sitting with at the back table. He’s kinda hunky, looks like he lifts more than you do, and is doing his best not to look over here right now.” Bryant stilled his reaction so he wouldn’t reveal he was listening, at least.

  Trent sighed. “Well, you caught me. I met him for drinks, and he suggested that you might be my type.” He paused, then rolled his eyes. “I’m an idiot. I don’t even know your name. I’m Trent.” He held out a hand to Lisa and she shook it. “Lisa.” He repeated the process with Diana.

  She kept him pinned with a challenging look. “There’s still a question on the table, Trent. Only you, or you and your friend?”

  “I had planned on only me, but if you’d prefer both of us, I’m sure he’d be willing.”

  Lisa shook her head sadly and adopted a hurt tone. “Now I feel plotted against, like some prey animal in the savanna. That’s a hard pass for tonight, Trent. If you catch us here another time, though, without a chaperone, feel free to make the offer again.”

  He smiled. “Fair enough.” He gestured to the bartender, pointed at their drinks, and waved his hand to show he’d buy the next round. As he walked toward the exit, Lisa called, “Thank you!”

  When Bryant turned back from watching Trent leave, Diana’s eyes were locked on him.

  Damn, she’s good, he thought.

  Chapter Four

  The DC FBI regional office in Manassas was sparkly and fresh, appropriate to its new-kid-on-the-block status. Warm lights filled the hallways, and the smooth floor clicked under the heels of her boots with each step. Ahead and on the right was her destination, the domain of her direct superior, Special Agent in Charge Tyson Samuels.

  Samuels was a lifer, already near retirement age but still plowed forward with the energy of a much younger person. He stood from behind his desk and held a hand out. “Diana, it’s always good to see you. Thank you for coming.” His crisp charcoal pinstripe suit would have looked appropriate on a Capitol Hill lawyer and was downright snazzy for an FBI officer. It put her own basic blue version to shame. His hair was mostly dark-brown with gray creeping in at the temples. A thin face and sharp nose naturally conveyed his authority.

  She gave him a grin. “Ty, it’s been a while.” They both laughed. She’d been in this office only two days before to review her cases. He gestured her to the ergonomically appropriate chair across the desk from him and they both sat.

  His first offhand question held an undertone of seriousness. “So, how are things?”

  Diana frowned. “Fine. Things are fine.”

  “No fallout from the incident at the museum?”

  “Nobody died, so I don’t even have to see a brain doc. It’s all good.”

  Tyson nodded. Then, his expression shifted from his normal pleasant demeanor to something she’d only seen on his face once or twice before—doubt. “Diana, an opportunity has come up. I’ve gone back and forth over whether I think it would be good for you, but ultimately, it’s your call to make.”

  He pressed a button on the complicated phone that rested on his desk, and the door behind her opened. She twisted to see who it was.

  Her eyes narrowed when she recognized the man from the bar the night before. As he stepped forward, a soft vanilla scent with a hint of spice filled the room. He wore the FBI standard uniform—heavy-duty khakis, light shirt, bold tie, sports jacket, and shoes that were okay for dress but made for action with their reinforced treads and steel caps. She had a similar set but rejected them as often as possible in favor of one of her favorite pairs of boots.

  She looked him in the eyes. “Fancy seeing you twice in the same twelve hours.”

  He slid casually into the seat beside her. “Yeah. I’d like to claim coincidence, but not so much.”

  Tyson intervened. “I’ve invited Bryant here to discuss the opportunity I mentioned. I wasn’t told you were under surveillance, but it’s not unexpected, given the issue at hand.”

  Diana looked from Bryant to Tyson and back again. “I haven’t had nearly enough coffee for this level of mystery. So, either pretty boy here needs to grab me a cup of coffee, or we need to get to the point.”

  Her boss laughed and the newcomer smirked at her. “Do you really think I’m pretty?”

  Diana shook her head. “I was trying to be polite.”

  “Trying and mostly failing, then.”

  “Do you have a purpose, other than being a stalker?”

  He raised a hand and smiled. “Yes. Yes, I do. My agency is always on the lookout for people with extraordinary talents and the brains to put them to good use. You appear to have both, based on your personnel file and the other material we’ve been able to dig up.”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “You’ve researched me?”

  “Yep.”

  “Is that strictly legal?”

  “Probably.” He shrugged as if the legality of it didn’t matter. “In any case, it was a means to an end, and the end is this. We’d like to offer you the choice to join our agency—provisionally, at first, but wi
th the expectation that you will move quickly into a primary role as the head of one of our new offices.”

  Diana sat back in her chair and crossed her legs.

  Interesting.

  She motioned for him to continue.

  His voice lost its playfulness as he began his pitch. “ARES is our name—the Anti-magic Response and Enforcement Service.” He must’ve seen her lips twist because he quickly added, “Yes, it’s a bit of a mouthful. Someone in government came up with it before we were involved. Also, it’s not technically accurate. We are not anti-magic. What we are is specifically detailed to deal with threats to this country that involve the use of magic.”

  More interesting.

  “Is this because of the museum?”

  He shook his head. “No, we’ve had our eye on you for a while. The museum was merely the icing on the cake. You handled yourself well in a difficult situation.”

  She persisted. “The museum is part of something bigger, though, isn’t it? That’s why you’re moving now.”

  “That statement is both true and false. Yes, it’s part of something bigger, but as I said, you were in our plans already.”

  Okay, that’s really interesting. I wonder if Tyson spilled about my magic? I can’t imagine how else they’d know.

  She decided to play along for now and leaned forward. “So what specifically do you get up to? And who do you answer to?”

  Tyson’s deep voice interjected. “I’ll address the second question. ARES is a black op that grew out of a need identified within the FBI. It is not acknowledged in any budget requests, and its personnel do not appear on any government rosters. I’ve been told there was a great deal of accounting and legal wizardry at work to make it happen, but it’s essentially an independent agency. There is oversight, but only through a select committee that has no formal meetings or roster. It is important to note that the committee includes the Vice President of the United States.”

  She turned back to Bryant, who nodded. “That’s a very succinct description of ARES. What we really get up to on a daily basis is less succinct. To be honest, we do something of everything, which is why having adaptable and talented people is so vital. We investigate crimes and terrorist activities that involve magic. We act as a response unit—much like a souped-up SWAT—for incidents involving magic.”

  She interrupted. “So, like the hostage rescue team or AET?”

  “But without the specialization. Our people are also investigators, researchers, negotiators, and whatever else the moment calls for. We don’t have the personnel or the funds to specialize beyond that. Yet.”

  “So, more like the Paranormal Defense Agency.”

  “Except without such stringent government oversight. And since we come out of the FBI, we’re a little more focused on investigation than they are.”

  She kept her face neutral but had to admit ARES sounded intriguing. A memory twisted uncomfortably in her stomach, and she pushed it down by automatic reflex.

  “So, tell me what I’d be doing.”

  “For a time, you’ll act as an auxiliary to the DC office. Eventually, we’ll send you to one of our startup locations.”

  “And where are those?”

  His smile was teasing. “That’s classified.”

  She rolled her eyes. His shifts in tone were too mercurial to be anything other than deliberate. He was playing her, testing her. Too bad I left my taser in the car. “Okay, then, I presume that salary and benefits are at least as good as what I have now?”

  Bryant grinned sheepishly. “Cash flow is something of an issue because of the impending startups. The pay will be about the same, with the promise of more once we’re fully launched.”

  “Do I have my choice of which regional office I would move to?”

  “Within reason. You might take one off the list, for instance.”

  She nodded, thought quickly, and voiced the questions as they occurred to her. “How big are the teams?”

  “Classified.”

  “Who’s in charge?”

  “Classified.”

  Diana sighed. “Is there anything else you can tell me that isn’t classified?”

  His mischievous grin showed off more teeth. “I’m a Scorpio, my favorite vegetable is steak, and I enjoy long walks on the beach.”

  She turned to Tyson and managed to hide her exasperation to deny Bryant the satisfaction. “Is everything the clown said true to your knowledge?”

  “It is. And I think he’s said about everything he needs to say.” Tyson shifted his sharp gaze. “Take a hike, Bry. She’ll be in touch, either way.”

  Bryant nodded and stood in one smooth motion. He held his hand out, and she rose to take it. “A pleasure meeting you, rather than admiring you from afar, Agent Sheen.”

  “The jury’s still out on whether I can say the same, Agent Bryant Classified.”

  He gave her hand an extra squeeze to acknowledge the joke, then released it and left.

  Diana fell back into her chair and exhaled sharply as the door closed. “Is that dude for real?”

  Tyson laughed. “I’ve known Bryant for a long time. It’s actually one of the reasons I’m in the loop on this agency. He’s a good agent and a great teammate. He does have the occasional attitude problem—like most of the finest agents I know.”

  “You wound me, sir.” She placed a hand gently over her heart, which prompted another laugh. “I do have a serious question, though.”

  Her boss nodded and sobered instantly. “Go ahead.”

  “Do you think I should do it?” The man had been her mentor throughout her time at the FBI. She’d consulted him on every major decision, knowing that having a champion was important and that having access to someone who knew the way things really worked was even more important.

  He wore another rare look, this one of discomfort. “Before I answer that, I have to ask you a question.”

  The thing in her stomach squirmed again. “Shoot.”

  “After what happened in Atlanta, do you think you can handle it?”

  She opened her mouth to respond, and he cut her off. “No platitudes, Diana. I need a real answer. Can you deal with reliving that kind of fight over and over again?”

  Finally, the squirming thing broke free and muted fear washed through her. The magic attack back then had claimed the prototype army anti-magic unit she was shadowing and left her injured and healing for months. She liked to keep it buried, but that didn’t keep it from scratching at the walls. It was exponentially closer when she encountered magic other than her own telekinesis. The expensive private therapists she saw in secret had diagnosed PTSD, which could only be managed, never cured. She’d added routines to her life to cope. They stretched from yoga and meditation to researching all things Oriceran in her rare uncommitted time. Taking the job would potentially require her to face the challenge of that specter every single day.

  On the other hand, it was a serious opportunity. This ARES would give her a chance to push beyond the normal progression and take a vital role in something important. It would only grow more essential as the worlds continued to overlap. She was certain she had reached one of those moments that defined a person. In this moment, she could choose the road that would lead her to certain adventure or the safe route that would remain far more ordinary by comparison.

  Diana blinked and realized that Tyson was staring at her. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been silent. Then again, time didn’t matter that much when it came to a decision like this. She still had to put on a bold face, though. This kind of answer would require confidence. And sometimes, the best medicine for a traumatic event was to confront the experience head-on. “I can. Hell, it might be the best thing for me.”

  Tyson didn’t answer. He stared her down silently with a probing expression. Fortunately, Diana was wise to that particular technique. She met that gaze and remained silent. Finally, He broke into a grin. “Then you should absolutely do it. You’ll be fantastic, and there’s a lot of caree
r upside. Plus, you have a safety net.”

  “I do?”

  He nodded. “While you’re on probation with the agency, you’ll be on detached duty from the FBI. This gives you a slightly higher salary, so I’ll expect a kickback.” His warm smile and familiar chuckle filled her with affection. “After that, if you decide to leave us, I’ll get temps, so you’ll have a home to come to.” His eyes twinkled mischievously. “Or, you know, if you wash out of the training.”

  Diana snorted and stood. “Please. Have you ever known me to fail at anything?” She had, many times, but was pretty sure he wasn’t aware of it.

  “Other than following orders?” He laughed. “That’s the spirit.” He stood and extended a white business card. “Bryant’s number. Now go show them what the best agent ARES has ever seen can do.”

  She left the office with a bounce in her step.

  I will show them, especially Bryant, how much more there is to me than their research suggests.

  Chapter Five

  The diner was classic DC, a lot of money spent to appear authentic and homey. It sported cracked vinyl booths, a long counter with spinning stools in front, and the inviting smells of waffles and bacon. It also featured Bryant Classified sitting at the far end with a tall mug of coffee in his hand.

  He was dressed for action in beat-up tactical pants, a tucked-in crewneck shirt, thick belt, and heavy boots. Her outfit was the same, plus her favorite leather racing jacket. The coat was black with a double red stripe down the left side and covered with zippered pockets. He'd warned her to wear clothes she didn’t mind getting dirty, so she brought her oldest versions.

  He’d better not mess up my jacket.

  The smell of food and fresh coffee made her stomach rumble as she crossed the center of the diner. She slid onto the chair next to him. “Bryant.”

  “Diana, how lovely to see you.” His teasing tone failed to hide the ring of truth in his words. She’d heard the telltale signs in his voice over the phone when she’d called to accept. His in-person demeanor simply confirmed his excitement over convincing her to join the team.

 

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