Federal Agents of Magic Boxed Set

by T. R. Cameron

  She decided in that moment to take the money she’d saved and put down deeper roots—buy a house and secure it so that no one could ever attack her that way again.

  Rath loved the idea. “Oh, hell yes.”

  She looked at him with wide eyes. “Did you just swear at me?”

  He grinned. “I’ve heard about another troll.”

  She groaned. “From who?”

  “Kayleigh.”

  “I’ll kill her.”

  He laughed and she pulled away from the curb and headed to the base. When she arrived, she and Rath walked directly to the second-floor lab. She barged in and folded her arms as she stared at the blonde technician. Kayleigh merely leaned back in her chair and returned the look with an expression of unlikely innocence on her face.

  Diana’s tone was accusatory. “You told him.”

  Kayleigh put a hand on her chest. “Moi? Told him what?”

  “Don’t play stupid.”

  She laughed. “I wondered how long it would be before you found out. Of course I told him. How could he not know about YTT?”

  Diana sighed and sat on the worktable. “You’ll destroy his innocence.”

  “Please. Words are nothing to be afraid of. Besides, I didn’t tell him much at all. Including what those letters stand for.”

  She grinned at her. “You know that’s not really why I’m here, right?”

  Kayleigh nodded and sobered. “Yes.”

  “Listen, I understand if you don’t want to, but—

  The tech raised a hand to silence. “Yes. I’ll stay. You need me, and I need the challenges you all present, given your many, many flaws. Besides, I take it personally when my friends are attacked.”

  Giddiness flowed over Diana, and she rushed forward to wrap the woman in a bear hug. After a moment of surprised resistance, she returned the gesture.

  The agent stepped back. “I have some thoughts about combat tech.”

  She nodded. “I do, too. Good ones.”

  Rath beamed at them and clapped with smug satisfaction. “I will be Iron Troll.”

  Author Notes - TR Cameron

  April 28, 2019

  Again and again, and over and over, thank you.

  Thank you for reading the third book in the Federal Agents of Magic series, and for continuing on to the author notes! I’ve been blown away by the reviews and comments about the first couple books.

  They helped me get through an April that was particularly challenging for me (I’m fully aware that what I find challenging, others might call a vacation. I’m lucky in a plethora of ways). The kiddo was sick. I was sick. Once I got done being sick, I lost the hearing in one of my ears for a week and a half, which sucked to an unexpected extent. Other life stuff was a bear. Finding the right frame of mind to work on this book was a challenge.

  But it was also a lifeline. Visiting with these characters was the calm eye of my personal storm. Hopefully reading about them offers some of the same relaxation for you!

  The upcoming books are going to be big fun. I can’t wait to get them to you.

  Spring is definitely in effect in my part of the world. The dogwood tree in my front yard is throwing pretty white flowers all over the place. I see rabbits chasing each other through the overly-long grass, and feel the guilt-projecting looks of my neighbors standing in their perfectly trimmed lawns with their annoyed hands on their judgmental hips. I have no idea why they dislike bunnies so much. Weird neighborhood.

  Our cats are obsessed with the wound-up birds outside the windows. None of them (there are five cats – long story – not my fault) does that cool chattering sound thing though. Too lazy, probably.

  I’m very much looking forward to summer activities, to amusement parks and bike riding and trail walks, to time with family and friends. I hope your plans for the upcoming season wherever you live are excellent!

  Today I’m getting the plot moments for Book 4 down on paper in their final form. Tomorrow I start writing. I’m as excited to start this one as I have been for any project, ever.

  I’d like to give a loud and appreciative shout out to all the folks in the Oriceran editing team – the ones who catch my story holes or outright mistakes, the ones who make the words better, and the ones who notice when I’ve left in “ought” instead of “thought” despite my three rounds of editing. Not only does it make the final product better, but working with such a strong safety net lets me focus on story more, because I know the team’s got my back.

  Speaking of… ARES Pittsburgh is almost complete. We need a couple more pieces. The plan at this second is two more agents to finish up the team plus another tech, but we’ll see how that works out. To quote Jayne Cobb from Serenity (to Mal): “Yeah, well what you plan and what takes place ain’t ever exactly been similar.” He’s not wrong in my case, either.

  Quick media notes: Avengers: Endgame hurt. The Battle of Winterfell hurt. As silly as it might sound, I think I’m actually doing some minor grieving for the characters I’ve loved and lost. (Parasocial interactions are a real thing, y’all). I’m catching up on CJ Cherryh’s Foreigner series, which I got distracted from for a couple of years (Book 16 is on deck), and the next Brownstone book awaits on my Kindle app. I’m looking forward to Watchmen on HBO, American Gods (Mad Sweeny needs his own series), and Good Omens. Plus, Deadwood, but I fear what they’re going to do to that set of beloved characters.

  If you want to chat media, the books, or whatever else, I check in pretty often on Facebook. Just search TR Cameron Author to find me.

  Until next time, Joys upon joys to you and yours – so may it be.

  Author Notes - Martha Carr

  April 29, 2019

  The movies always make writing look like such a solitary undertaking and back when I had an agent and a publisher (and before the internet), it was. There was regular communication, but for the most part I was figuring out things by myself.

  By the way, when it came to marketing, unless you were a big name and got a big advance, authors were still largely on their own to publicize their baby. They had the months leading up to publication and then three months after. If it didn’t spark and create a sensation it left the bookshelves and that was it.

  Authors occasionally saw each other at conferences – but those were mostly for book sellers, not the guys creating the books.

  Then the internet came along, and all of us authors started talking more but it was still hit and miss. Mostly it was about what PR firm to use or avoid. We were still largely hands off, mostly doing things alone and we wouldn’t have known how to help each other. I mean, how do I reach into another company and help your book?

  But there was something brand new on the horizon. I still remember when Oprah had Jeff Bezos on her show with the first Kindle. It was revolutionary, but how much none of us really knew yet. (There’s a good chance we’re still in the creation phase of that and it’ll be another generation that can look back and see the whole scope.)

  Internet speeds picked up (remember dial up), and Amazon created Kindle Unlimited – a more affordable way to read as much as you wanted for just ten bucks a month – and a great way for some new author to get a chance to introduce themselves – to all of you.

  That’s what did it. Some pioneering writers decided to hack the system and write the books they wanted to write, put them out on their schedule (instead of the old spring and fall system), and keep the money. Covers were kind of well – bad at first and it took a while to catch on to the need for editing, and good blurbs, but the indie movement was up and rolling.

  Then 20Books came along (a Facebook group for indie writers that focuses on marketing and is now 30k and growing). It was started by Michael Anderle and championed by Craig Martelle and it was like the last thing we really needed. A safe place to share ideas and ask questions. There’s a strict no promo, no insults policy and just one infraction will get you tossed out.

  Speaking as an author from pre-internet and watching the whole cycle of evol
ution – this was what was missing all along. A reservoir of knowledge that anyone can dip into – for free. Many of us owe our success to this group because we were able to ask questions, test things, come back when things failed – and sometimes collaborate even on the writing.

  That’s how we found TR Cameron – and what a find! A great writer who had some great stories in him to tell.

  This all happened because a core group of authors were willing to share what they knew and were open to learning, changing, failing, trying again – and then sharing all of it all over again – for free. I’ve been there since about three hundred were in the group and I stayed to write with Michael because of something he was doing – not saying. He was just coming into his success and was offering to collaborate with pretty much anyone in those days. You have an idea? Are you willing to work for it? Are you open to listening to new ideas? Great, let’s get going. I was one of those and every day I was surprised by his generosity and that he didn’t suddenly draw a line and say, this is mine or how about me.

  You have to be behind the scenes, deep bench, to see just how generous he is with his time and money. It’s a credo that is carried by the rest of us as well and a characteristic we now look for in those we work with. Sure, we are and want to continue to be successful, but there’s something more here. Still haven’t reached the limits either and I hope I never do.

  More adventures to follow.

  Agents of Chaos

  Federal Agents of Magic Book 4

  Chapter One

  Moonlight glittered on the water of the river to his left as Rath patrolled the rooftops and moved steadily toward the part of town where the security agency was located. Below, headlights and taillights colored the streets as the late evening traffic crawled through the city. As long as no one looked up, they would have a nice, normal drive home.

  If they happened to tilt their heads skyward and see the three-foot-tall troll who ran along the perimeter of a building, they would no doubt find it unusual. If they happened to watch when he found the edge and leapt confidently into space, they would probably find it alarming. If they saw his carbon fiber wings spread out to catch the air and allow him to glide smoothly forward, they would undoubtedly wind up in an accident.

  It’s not every day you see a flying troll. Rath laughed out loud, even though Gwen was the only entity there to hear it. The AI spoke in his ear. “Safe landing ahead. Wing drop in three, two, one….” The double triangles on each side retracted with a whir into the large rectangular container on his back. He landed cleanly and jogged to a halt to survey the next building, which was too high to glide to.

  After his first several nights on patrol, he had determined that he needed better equipment. Kayleigh, who had tasked a drone to follow him, watched the recordings and agreed. They had created the flight suit without mentioning it to Diana in advance. He had demonstrated it for her with a leap from the roof of the security agency as she departed one evening, which resulted in a call to the blonde technician within seconds of his landing.

  Their exchange had been loud. It had also involved several words he’d been cautioned not to use around strangers. The tech’s side of the conversation was audible as well, a notable fact since the phone’s speaker wasn’t that powerful. In the end, Diana had apologized to him and Kayleigh but insisted he needed a backup plan. She’d probably been thinking of a parachute. He laughed again.

  While the back of the body-harness he wore was devoted entirely to the wings, the front was a different matter. The chest straps bore holders for miniature grenades, currently filled with a sonic, a pair of flashbangs, and a pepper. Diana still didn’t want him using fragmentation or incendiary grenades since he had a habit of fighting close up. She probably wasn’t wrong. His utility belt held a healing potion, the comm repeater that allowed his AI to function, and loops for the baton holsters strapped to each leg. It also carried a device that captured and compressed air, released it when triggered, and automatically refilled in moments.

  At the center of his chest lay the equipment Kayleigh had provided as a safety net. It was a motorized winch with a super-thin, ultra-strong cable attached to it—military technology the tech had bartered for with a counterpart in the Army’s R&D division. The line was connected to a launcher mounted on the inside of his right wrist. This also had a narrow flexible tube running down to his belt and held a grapnel that looked like a small arrow. He raised the arm, and Gwen gave a soft chime when he had it lined up properly. He fired and a burst of compressed air launched the projectile to the top of the next building. The wire snapped taut, the tines deployed, and it latched onto the edge. The winch automatically engaged, yanked him from his feet, and pulled him quickly up to the other roof.

  And this sight would cause even more crashes. Spider-troll. Heh.

  He clambered over the side and disengaged the device, pressed the button to snap it closed, and slotted it back into place. He loved the toys, but most of all, he loved being out and about in the city he had chosen as his own. It felt like home now, and he had a responsibility to protect those who lived in it as best he could. That was why he was out this evening like he often was. During the daytime hours, he traveled with Max, who also had a few new toys of his own. Rath didn’t engage in too many night patrols, maybe a couple each week, but tonight was different.

  On a reconnaissance day, he’d overheard Professor Charlotte Stanley mention something that had stuck with him. She was part of a group—they called themselves a vigilante team but laughed uproariously when they did so—that did good in the city and told another member she’d noticed an increased number of questionable people around certain liquor stores in the downtown area. Rath had been waiting for something like that, so he suited up and took to the rooftops. Below, the man he’d followed from the first alcohol store continued to amble along the street and acted as if he was purely an innocent pedestrian. However, the way he flinched and tapped his phone when any police presence was detected nearby suggested he was out for more than simply an evening stroll.

  The troll thought he might have seen the man before but couldn’t be sure. If he had, though, he was sure about when and where—at the warehouse the night the stupid pirate-looking person had been whisked away by his henchmen. Rath was still angry that he hadn’t been able to stop the car, and maybe, just maybe, the man on the street below was the one who’d shot at him and forced him to abandon his pursuit. If he was, it only made him all the more rewarding to track.

  He wanted to descend a little closer, but he’d given his promise to Diana—surveillance only and no mixing it up unless absolutely necessary. While his definition of necessary didn’t always align with hers, Rath tried to think about such things from her point of view. Teammates have to be able to trust one another. So he stayed high, tracked the man, and made sure the drone followed as well. Hopefully, the bad guy would lead him to bigger, badder criminals. And, eventually, to the pirate whose hat the troll had sworn would soon be his own.

  His quarry turned onto another road, and Rath readied himself for a jump and a glide across the car-filled street below. It would be the most dangerous of his maneuvers, a flight followed by a mid-air grapnel. Gwen’s suggestions made it easier, but it remained risky. Naturally, the idea brought a huge smile to his face. He walked to the edge to familiarize himself with what was needed, then stalked as far away on the roof as he could. He’d need as much momentum as possible when he launched himself over the gap.

  Rath started to run but a sound brought him up short and he slid to a stop a foot from the edge. His smile had been banished by a fierce scowl. He listened carefully and heard it again. What sounded like muffled screams and scuffling rose from the lane that ran between this building and the next. He raced to that side and peered down to where five men in hoodies surrounded a well-dressed man and woman. One thug guarded the alley entrance while the other four struggled with the victims. Three of them wrestled with the man, and one held the woman’s arm twisted beh
ind her back and her face pressed to the wall.

  “Gwen, have drone follow first bad guy.”

  “Affirmative. I’ll do my best, but we may lose him.”

  Rath shrugged. “Can find again. Call police to come to the alley. And ambulance.”

  It was about eight stories down, depending on whether you counted the oversized floors of the building across the way or the normal ones of the building he was on. He retrieved the two flashbangs from his bandolier and palmed one in each hand, then walked to the edge. The alley’s narrow width meant he’d need to swoop along it, then turn and glide back to expend a little of his velocity. The timing should work. “Ready to fly, Gwen?”

  “Affirmative.”

  He primed the grenades and tossed them to land near the group surrounding the man. A running leap took him from the roof, and the wings snapped out as he leaned to curve to the left. The steering functioned by adjusting the trim slightly as he shifted his balance, all coordinated by the AI in ways he didn’t understand. All he cared about was that it worked, and now he could fly. He spiraled toward the front of the alley and aimed for the man who held the woman in place and who had begun to react to the clattering a few feet away from him.

  The troll closed his eyes an instant before the grenades detonated and his headphones protected him from the sound. He reopened them as Gwen chimed and retracted the wings to release him gently in a perfect descent toward the man who already stumbled from the nearby concussion. His feet caught the thug in the shoulder and he lurched forward to crash onto his side. The noise when his skull struck the concrete echoed off the walls, only barely audible above the shouts of alarm from both the victims and the perpetrators. One down, four to go.