Federal Agents of Magic Boxed Set

by T. R. Cameron

  “Mostly. Basically, you deal with magical threats wherever they pop up.”

  She returned the coffee pot and sat again, then slid the extra cup to her guest. “That’s generally right. Although we’ll aim for the higher end of the danger spectrum and leave the lowest ones for independent bounty hunters.”

  The other woman nodded.

  “Do you still want in?”

  Cara sipped the brew, then lowered her mug to look her in the eye. “First, I have a couple of questions for you. Since you’re the one in charge, what’s important to you? Why are you—personally—doing this?”

  The earnestness in her voice suggested it wasn’t a throwaway inquiry, so Diana took her time to carefully consider the answer. “It’s a mix of all the normal things, I guess. Patriotism, responsibility, a desire to make a change. All that stuff is real and important.” She paused and looked out the window. “But at the heart of it? I despise bullies.” She turned back to her companion. “And all the assholes we’ve faced so far are classic condescending, better-than-thou, card-carrying, bullying trash. They need to be taught a lesson, and ARES is open to tutor them.”

  The candidate grinned. “All right. You’ve sold me. What’s next?”

  “How about a test?” Diana’s grin was now a little feral. “There’s a level two bounty who’s popped up on the radar over the last couple of days. Breaking and entering, destruction of property—normal criminal stuff. How about we teach him the error of his ways?”

  Cara slapped her palms on the table. “Absolutely. There’s no time like the present.”

  Chapter Four

  She took Cara through the basement levels and out to the garage. There’s not much risk, even if she decides not to join us. A tap on her watch activated a current-model sedan, and they circled to the trunk. She popped it with another touch to reveal a pair of cases inside. “While we’re still spinning up, our armory’s mobile.”

  Her companion nodded her understanding.

  Diana heaved the containers out and set them on the car. The longer box opened to display two Colt M4 carbines with collapsed stocks. She handed one to Cara and was satisfied to see the woman check the rifle carefully, verify that the magazine was full, and extend a hand for a spare. She slapped it into her palm and laughed. “Standard load. Depending on where we find him, they might be too much bang, but let’s at least have them ready.”

  Cara nodded. “There are usually civilians present when the Marshals have to confront someone, too. It seems like a deliberate defense mechanism.”

  “It hasn’t been a problem in many of my BAM missions yet, but I’m sure that’s the exception, rather than the rule.”

  “BAM?”

  “Only the suits call it ARES. We prefer Black-ops Agents of Magic.”

  The marshal chuckled. “I didn’t want to say anything, but BAM is much better than ARES.”

  The second case Diana opened held two standard Kevlar vests and a pair of illusion necklaces. I don’t want to waste our deflectors on anyone under a level-three. She dropped one of each over her head and handed the others over. Cara mimicked the action and looked quizzically at her.

  “One of our ongoing challenges will be to keep the federal side of things hidden while we work under the guise of the security agency. These change our looks. They’re self-powered and take a voice command to activate.” She wasn’t sure how the necklaces were created, nor what level of magic was required to craft the artifacts, but had long since decided it wasn't worth worrying about so long as they worked. Bryant had said that they would work on both magicals and non-magicals, so she’d simply take him at his word.

  And if they do need magic, there’s no guarantee Cara lacks sufficient power, is there?

  She flashed back to Bryant’s first tease after she’d revealed her power. “You didn’t tell me you had magic,” he’d said. She laughed inwardly. Then she realized that the other woman was watching her and snapped the cases closed. “You put your hand on the pendant, say ‘falach,’ and you’ll look like someone else for a while.”

  “Anyone in particular? I always thought Sandra Bullock was pretty hot.”

  She laughed. “Nope. Some sort of random average amalgamation of features. Who knows? Our magic techs are seriously impressive. So are the non-magic techs, for that matter.”

  She stowed the cases, and they slid into the car. Cara watched the scenery pass outside the window in silence as they drove, then finally broke it in favor of the inevitable questions. “So, why Pittsburgh? And why me?”

  Diana turned left toward the river. “Pittsburgh, because the city is a hub for magic, both good and bad. I’m not sure exactly why it’s so popular, but the revelation of the Cube can only make things worse.”

  Cara nodded. “The reveal to the media came a little earlier than expected—or so it seemed to me.”

  She scowled, sharing the woman’s sentiment. “It did. We’re still looking into how that happened. Let’s simply say the rollout hasn’t been without its issues.” She swung the car across the bridge and turned right to drive along the river. “As for your other question, that’s easy. You’re skilled, you’ve proven you’re tough, and you seem sane, despite your interest in joining us.”

  Her companion laughed. “Mostly sane, at least.”

  “Sometimes, that’s the best anyone can do.” Diana checked the GPS on her watch and swung the sedan into a gravel lot. Ahead was a large metal-walled building that had probably once been a factory dedicated to some part of the steel production process. Now, a hand-painted tattoo-inspired sign proclaimed it to be an auto body shop. The giant entryway spewed an unholy clamor of rock music, heavy clanging, and power tools through its open maw.

  Diana took the lead as she stepped out of the car. Cara flanked her on her left. By unspoken agreement, they chose not to carry the rifles as it was too much firepower for such a public location. She activated her necklace and the other woman did the same and grimaced at the sensation as her features squashed and morphed into something plain and unattractive. Her skin was now pale and splotchy, her hair a frizzy orange, and her eyes had assumed a dull green shade that emphasized the freckles and patches of psoriasis along her neck. As a final touch, her nose had swollen to look more like a snout. Diana didn’t want to know what she looked like. She sighed as she looked at her jacket. It was a luxury she would have to learn to live without when she was on missions. Wearing the same favorites was a rookie mistake, and this was the big leagues.

  They made their way casually through the space and avoided eye contact as they sought their target. Diana’s leather coat was loose enough that she could cleanly access the Glock in its shoulder rig. Cara kept her right hand on her hip to hasten the draw from the holster at the small of her back.

  The car had an encoder and repeater, so the AR glasses were able to assist in the search. She spotted the bounty from a distance and nodded her head subtly in his direction. Her companion interpreted it and shifted to take a parallel path along the left wall while Diana continued down the center aisle. A few catcalls and a proposition or two tagged their progress, but nobody moved to harass either of them. Either there was a strict non-fraternizing policy or they knew something was up. Their target was working a dent out of a dark purple Toyota 86 when she reached him.

  She halted across the hood from where he knelt and yelled, “Harold, we’d like to have a word with you.” He didn’t respond, so she stepped around and waved a hand in front of his face. He stumbled back, clearly alarmed, and yanked the earplugs from his ears as he straightened. He towered above her, a fact she did not enjoy.

  I wonder if there’s any magic to make me taller.

  His bushy red beard was dirty, and a dark smudge of grease smeared across his cheek.

  He looked at her and snarled, “What?”

  Diana shook her head. She’d seen enough of the tough guy attitude in her life. Then again, they had interrupted his work on a very expensive piece of machinery. “Hi, Harold. Grea
t first impression, by the way. We’d like to chat with you.”

  He swiveled his head and his gaze found Cara where she leaned against the far wall. From her position, she had a clear line of sight. He muttered an expletive and turned back to Diana. “I didn’t do anything, Officer.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “Then why do you assume I’m with the law?”

  The bounty coughed and pointed at her vest. It’s obvious. You look like police.”

  Sadly, she had to give him points there. “Well, you’re half right. Can we get out of the noise and talk?”

  He frowned and failed to move. “Having magic’s not a crime yet, is it?” He gestured to the car as if to say, “Hey, I’m using it for good.”

  Diana shrugged. “No, but breaking into ATMs with it is. Magic doesn’t give you permission to take other people’s stuff.”

  His face went blank for a second before he marshaled his intellectual reserves and countered, “You can’t prove it was me.” Either those reserves were frighteningly limited, or he simply tried his luck with a feeble ploy—to what, buy himself time?

  She raised a brow and withdrew her phone from her back pocket. He squinted at the screen as she held up the security camera footage of him smashing an ATM with a force blast.

  Harold seemed genuinely surprised for a moment before he sighed. “Damn. That first fucking spell was supposed to fuzz the camera.”

  For a hairsbreath moment, Diana thought he would surrender, but he proved her optimism unfounded. An outstretched hand and barked command launched the Toyota toward Cara’s position against the wall. Only a frantic jump over the hood saved her from being crushed. His other hand directed a pair of nearby power tools toward the second agent’s face.

  Diana called on her telekinesis and slapped the projectiles aside with a sweep of her left arm. She drew her pistol, but Harold had already fled, darting behind obstructions and coworkers to break her line of sight.

  Shit.

  “Stay on that side,” she yelled to her partner and broke into a run. “I’ll take the middle and right.”

  She pounded along the center aisle in pursuit, then flung herself behind a windowless car when a blizzard of lug nuts appeared. They rocketed above with the speed of bullets and struck the metal behind her. Various workers responded with outraged shouts mingled with at least one scream of pain. She weaved to avoid several of the bounty’s force blasts. Glyphs glowed under the edges of Harold’s now-unrolled shirtsleeves. If he hadn’t already admitted to his magical abilities—and been caught on camera, of course—this would have been the damning evidence.

  As if the flying steel wasn’t proof enough.

  Diana skidded across the cement on her knees as another salvo of lug nuts speared toward her head. A sharp ridge on the floor sliced a long gash in the side of her left boot, and she growled her annoyance. "Okay, punk. Now, it’s personal.”

  With the increased anger came the familiar sensation as magic built inside her, and she grinned. She’d taken great pains to hide her gift before she’d joined BAM. Now, the terror she had once felt about it and the dreams that had plagued her nights had both faded. But not being afraid of it didn’t mean she had proper control yet. Knowing it was there was comforting, though. A crash from the left was likely attributable to an attack on Cara, and she hoped the other woman was okay. Unfortunately, hope was all she could manage as she had no attention to spare beyond the deadly projectiles Harold launched relentlessly in her direction. Her mind cataloged them as she dodged.

  Big-ass wrench. Socket set, in case. Socket set, not in case.

  Her eyes widened and she flinched at the sight of a veritable wall of metal objects inbound. She crouched and raised her right arm in defense. Her wrist immediately glowed with glyphs, and a shimmering force barricade materialized to protect her from the hail of steel.

  Captain America’s got nothing on me.

  She lurched into motion again and extended her pistol for a shot as Harold broke into the wide space at the far edge of the building, but the distance was too great.

  Where the hell does he think he’s going? If he dives in the river, I won’t jump in after him. It’s too damn cold for that nonsense.

  For a moment, she wondered if aquatic shapeshifters existed or if she could find a mermaid to help patrol the waterways. Fortunately, he didn’t try that route. Instead, he cursed and released a volley of spells at a chain-link fence with razor wire at its top. The barrier shook fiercely but didn’t break under his onslaught.

  Diana stopped, aimed at the tasteless image on the back center of his shirt, and shouted, “Okay, Harold. Give it up and get on the ground.”

  He turned frantically as Cara closed in on a separate vector with her pistol trained unflinchingly to deny him any chance to evade them for a running start. If he attacked, the other would be able to restrain him. At least, that was the theory. Unfortunately, standard tactics didn’t mean squat to a magic user.

  Harold threw his arms up and an invisible force spun the weapon out of Diana’s grasp. Cara’s followed the same example but to her credit, the marshal didn’t hesitate. Instead, she charged the bounty instead. Diana lunged forward in response, lest he focus all his effort on her partner. He gestured at her and suddenly, it felt like she ran through mud. The technique was new to her and proved successful against her usual defenses. It demonstrated a level of control beyond what she could accomplish.

  Damn. He’s actually good at this.

  Cara closed unhindered and delivered two sharp punches to his torso. The attack didn’t impact him nearly as much as it should have.

  He probably has some kind of close defense force going on, too. Why the hell is he only a level-two?

  She made a mental note to talk to someone at police headquarters about their bounty categorizations as she continued to push against his spell.

  The marshal threw a hook at his head that he blocked with a raised hand. It never actually touched her, yet the punch was guided away. A roundhouse body kick followed, and he stopped it with a gesture. She faked a backfist at his face before she spun to finally connect with a side kick to his ribs.

  He staggered, then straightened with a condescending smile and rumbled, “All right, enough playing.”

  Harold thrust out both hands, and Cara was thrown back. The attack must have distracted him or required his entire focus because Diana found she could move at full speed once more. She covered the intervening distance in seconds and leapt in with a sharp blow aimed at the side of his head. He saw it at the last instant and shifted enough to catch the blow on the back of his skull, rather than his temple, so it glanced off the hard bone. In a frenzy, he whirled on her and made a punching motion with his hand. Time slowed for her as her reflexive magic kicked in instinctively. She tilted her head to the left and something whizzed past her ear, although she could almost see the invisible fist that she had narrowly avoided.

  Diana flung herself aside to avoid his next blow as the world around her resumed its normal pace, then weaved and feinted in an attempt to keep his attention and make him miss. She spotted a tree stump ahead and dashed for the minimal cover it would provide. A heavy strike radiated pain through her back before she reached it, however. She sprawled painfully and struggled to recover. At least the blow had one benefit. The stump was now within reach. She crawled behind the remains of the tree as dark spots danced across her vision. After a deep, calming breath, she clawed the Ruger out of her boot.

  She raised the revolver in a two-handed grip and rested it on the wood. Harold stalked toward her. His face was twisted with anger as his arms stretched before him. She tried to steady the gun and wished she could take a breath to still the trembling in her hands. He’d somehow restricted her ability to breathe, and she needed to take her shot quickly to break the hold he had over her.

  Cara saved her from having to take the shot. She leapt stealthily from behind and delivered a brutal kick to Harold’s right knee that dropped him to the dirt.
The marshal stamped her foot on the man’s calf, and his bone snapped. He screamed, and Diana gasped a ragged breath as her ability to breathe returned. Her partner bound him quickly with the zip ties provided and was smart enough to use a gag to prevent him from speaking. He’d not needed spoken incantations for any of his spells thus far so that might have been unnecessary. Still, there was no guarantee that he didn’t have some nasty last-resort explosive something or other that could level the entire area in one massive blast.

  She thought of that too. Good.

  Her partner ran over to help her up. “Nice job distracting him so I could get close.”

  Diana laughed but it definitely sounded strained. “Yeah, sure. That’s what it was. He’s a bastard. You should’ve shot him, period.”

  The marshal shrugged. “I’m not sure where he threw my gun. Plus, isn’t it always better to incapacitate them rather than kill them?”

  “So I hear.” She rolled her eyes and groaned, then shook her head at the moaning man. “He’s secured, so let’s call the wagon to take him away. Two Worlds Security Consulting just bagged its first bounty.”

  Chapter Five

  Diana walked the few blocks from the agency to the restaurant and entered the front door. She ignored the glares and verbal protests from the line of people shivering in the cold as she addressed the hostess. “My group’s here. I’m the late one.” She navigated the loudly happy crowd with all the skills of a trained fighter. The space was built around a Caribbean theme, with a fancy glass and wood bar to the right and tables to the left. Two small areas in the back afforded at least an illusion of privacy. The rest of the floor space committed to a kind of upscale togetherness that reminded her of nights out in DC.

  Well, everywhere but the Beagle, at least.

  She chuckled at the memory as a stab of homesickness struck her and wondered how Lisa was doing. A rustle and vibration emanated from inside her purse, and she was sure Rath was enjoying the sights at least, if not the sounds and smells since he was buttoned up in his canister. She had rigged a Velcro strap that would hold the item at an angle near the top of her bag so his tiny mirrored periscope would let him see what was going on.