Federal Agents of Magic Boxed Set

by T. R. Cameron

  “Let’s get inside.” They walked side-by-side through the open sliding door of the warehouse, which was notably emptier of both people and things than before their efforts across the state. At the bottom of the stairs stood a dark-skinned witch with large gold hoop earrings, spiked neon blue hair that was shaved on the sides, and the odd fashion choice of a scarlet kimono with a dragon on it overtop a black tank top and matching jeans. Her arms were folded over her chest, and her black wooden wand tapped the opposite arm every so often like a threat to those around her or one side of a conversation only she could hear.

  Sloan nodded at her. “New top witch?”

  Mur gave a grunt that he took as affirmation. She didn’t seem likely to be as fawning as Wysse had been, and he couldn’t say he was upset that the alleged empath was no longer among them.

  A loud bang sounded from the second floor as the door struck the metal walls of the office and once again, Sarah entered the presence of her underlings with a reminder of how far above them she was. She descended halfway, reviewed the people before her, and stepped down another few steps. Her face looked gaunter than it had previously, and her eyes more furious and energetic. Her hands twitched as she stood in silence, clenched into fists, and relaxed, again and again. I wonder if she realizes she’s doing it. I wonder if she realizes anything that happens outside her own head.

  “My people. You have persevered through challenges to be here. You have seen the loss of your friends, of our brothers and sisters who sacrificed themselves to advance the goals of the Remembrance. I am here to tell you that it was worth it. It continues to be worth it. Our success in decimating the authorities in Philadelphia has proven our value to those above us.”

  Sloan frowned. She sounds crazier than usual. And that’s seriously saying something.

  “We have been rewarded with our biggest task yet, one that will launch us to the top of the groups fighting to continue the ideals of Rhazdon, fighting to claim our rightful places on both Oriceran and Earth.”

  Wow. Laying it on a little thick, aren’t you, lady?

  “Soon—very soon—we will receive the tools we require to make our next accomplishment a success. It will take effort, of course. It will take loyalty. It will take all the power and ability present in this room to ensure our ultimate success. But we can do this. We will do this.” She pointed a finger at them and swept it across the room. “The first step is to find more warriors, more people who believe as we do. In the past, I have refrained from doing so for fear of our secrets escaping. But no longer. Now, as we are about to come into the light, it is time to abandon those restrictions.”

  That’s not good.

  “Go, now. Go out to those you know, to those people who crave more, who desire a greater say in their lives and who need the life-changing opportunity our vision offers. Bring them to me two days from now, and we will judge them, appoint them, and make our plans together with them.

  “Soon, my people, we shall be ascendant. So it has been promised, and so it shall be.” She turned with a flourish and stalked up the stairs. No words were spoken until the door had slammed shut, and even then, the crowd was largely quiet as they filed out. He opened his mouth to speak to Mur, but the other man shook his head.

  The return trip to the bar was silent. When he climbed out of the truck and headed for home, there was only a single thought in Sloan’s mind. I have to warn the team that something enormous is on the way.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Diana had spent the week following the events in Philadelphia while healing. Nylotte had left the kemana and visited her at home to chide her for expending her power too freely. When she’d protested that the enemy had more or less dropped a baseball stadium on her head—okay, some exaggeration, but still—the Drow had merely given her a stern look and reminded her that perhaps it would be smarter not to get into such situations in the first place.

  Well, it’s not like she’s wrong, per se.

  She’d stayed at home mostly, and although she’d communicated with the others electronically, she’d generally rested. When her physical strength returned after a couple of days, she started jogging and did some light sparring with Rath, but the truth was that she had taken a significant amount of bruising in the last few months and it had caught up to her. So, when fate or the universe or whatever granted her in-between time, she took it.

  Then the downtime ended, and it was game on again. The change started with a call from Kayleigh. “Dead drop marker was up today.” After the action at the baseball stadium, there was no word from Sloan after the initial contact and they had assumed he was probably worried about whether his cover was blown and so kept things on the straight and narrow. He hadn’t sent an alarm code, and they’d tracked his movements through the device, all of which looked more or less normal.

  Yesterday, the equipment placed him at the warehouse again, so they’d anticipated there might be some form of communication. He didn’t put the phone into ghost mode, an indication that he felt reasonably safe. As safe as an undercover agent among a group of renegade magicals led by a witch whose mind was broken in the World in Between can be, anyway. Diana had spent the time since then waiting for the other shoe to drop, and the marker was it.

  They sent Cara out as her fieldcraft was good and she was generally the least visible of them. Diana arrived at the core before she returned with the note, a series of numbers corresponding to words on a specific webpage—in this case, one dedicated to the works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. A book-based cipher for the electronic age. When Alfred decoded it, the message read only, Something big afoot in the near future in our city. Recommend maximum caution.

  The three women looked at each other, and Kayleigh summed up their shared opinion. “Damn. That doesn’t sound good.”

  Cara nodded. “Do you think they’ll go after the stadiums here, too?”

  Diana shook her head. “I really don’t. It seems that was all about misdirection. I imagine what they really wanted was to wipe out the defenses against them in Philly. It’s probably a prelude to making a power grab of some kind. But I can’t see them doing the same thing here since they know we’re around. It’s actually odd that they sent people from Pittsburgh there, isn’t it?”

  Kayleigh jumped in with an answer right away. “I’ve worked on that idea for a while. I can see two main possibilities. Option one is their Philadelphia team was doing something else that night, or there weren’t many of them and they needed supplementing.”

  Cara tapped her temple. “Those are some deep thoughts there. Couldn’t you come up with anything more obvious?”

  The tech made a gun with her fingers and pantomimed shooting the other woman. “Option two—and this is the one I prefer—is we’re looking at a situation like the mafia in movies, where a single person is in charge of a city. They don’t have all that many top people in the game, so they don’t have many cities with a strong presence.”

  Diana nodded. “The last one might make some sense. Although it could also be that there’s enough activity going on in so many places that they’re working regionally.”

  Cara replied “Uh-uh. I don’t buy it. I think it could have something to do with what you both have said, but that’s granting them too much deliberate choice. Maybe they make it up as they go along. Some of this seems fairly random, you have to admit.”

  The discussion was ended by Tony’s arrival through the door from the parking garage. He hurried over to them. “I didn’t want this on the radio, even the encrypted ones, but the Warden says there’s something going on in the Cube. That Vincente dude, his human follower, and a group of Kilomea all seem more animated and are chatting more. She’s allowed it for now but can shut it down if we need her to.”

  Diana shrugged. “As long as we listen in, we might as well see where they lead us, right?” The others agreed.

  Her second in command asked, “Hey, Tony, how’s the dumbass pirate doing in there? I still regret not shooting him for bein
g an idiot.”

  The former detective shook his head with a disbelieving look on his face. “So, this is about the best story of the day, really. They put him on the fourth level—where Vincente is—which basically means solitary confinement. Warden Murphy didn’t want him to talk to any of his followers in there, which is logical. Well, after the tranquilizers they’d given him wore off, he freaked out and acted like he had a seizure or some garbage. They brought him to the infirmary and checked him out, but found nothing.”

  Kayleigh made a tsking sound. “Was he merely being a baby?”

  “I’m almost there, hang on. So, he’s going down in the elevator, and the guards can see him getting worse with each passing floor. He was okay on the top, began to itch on two, trembled on three, and freaked out again on four.”

  Diana realized what he was about to say before he said it. “No way. He is not.”

  Tony laughed. “He is. He really is. The Prince of Plunder is a bonafide magical creature. He’s apparently used his magic so often it’s part of him now, and he can’t function normally without its presence.”

  Cara blinked. “I did not see that coming.”

  “No one did, least of all the workers at the Cube. So he’s been moved to level five and now hangs out with the guard-bots, seemingly as calm as can be. No wands permitted, of course.”

  Diana had that odd feeling again of a big picture she couldn’t quite see. Damn, woman, you’re paranoid. Knock it off. “This town is weirder and weirder. I vote we move. Who’s with me?”

  Kayleigh snorted. “You just made me come here. No leaving.”

  “All right, fine. Let’s put a proverbial pin in this and return to it when we have more information.” She stared at them and they didn’t move, so she made shooing gestures with her hands. “Clueless people, this means you need to go and get more information. Off with you.”

  They departed, laughing, and Kayleigh gave her a one-finger salute before she left. Diana shook her head. After she’d learned of the troll’s roller-boots, she and the tech had downed a few drinks and engaged in a heart-to-heart. It hadn’t gone quite the way she’d expected, as their new roommate shared some very deep and insightful thoughts on the things they needed to do to allow their resident troll to reach the heights he wanted to reach. Diana had been convinced, but Kayleigh went a step too far when she suggested rocket boots. She’d gotten blustery, and the tech had departed for the basement with mocking laughter at how well the provocation worked following her all the way down.

  She activated the buttons to isolate her comm and connect it to her phone and dialed Bryant. He picked up after one ring. His voice was concerned. “What’s up?”

  “No hello? No how are you doing?”

  He chuckled, but the worry didn’t leave his tone. “Hello, Diana, so lovely to hear from you! I pray that you are doing well. What inspires your ever so welcome call on this fine day?”

  She laughed despite her effort not to. “Have I told you you’re a jerk lately?”

  “I merely insert those words mentally every third sentence or so to save you the trouble.”

  “Okay. You win this round, but I will have my revenge. The word around town is that something big will go down in the not too distant future.”

  “Like stadium big?”

  “Uncertain.”

  He sighed. “Damn.”

  She nodded. “Yep, couldn’t have said it better myself.”

  “What do you need from me?”

  She laughed. “A mobile armory.” He sputtered, and she finished quickly. “I think it’d be good if you were in town.”

  “Okay. You got it. I’ll be there tomorrow at the latest.”

  “Perfect. Thanks, Bryant.”

  “Is that your sincere voice?”

  She blew out an exasperated breath. “No, this is, so listen carefully. You, Bryant Bates, are a jerk.” She hung up to his laughter and wondered if calling him in was overkill. I really, really hope so. But I doubt it.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  It had cheered Rath up when Diana finally went back to work a few days before. He had been worried after the battle out of town and both disappointed and illogically ashamed that he wasn’t there to protect her from getting hurt. Partners should stick together. Still, he understood that there was no way to dependably disguise him and agreed that risking Sloan’s cover would have been bad.

  Despite that, a voice inside whispered that he’d failed somehow.

  He and Max had patrolled with a purpose the last few days, both in their neighborhood and in the downtown area, looking for clues or leads or anything that would be of some use. The ominous sense that something big was about to happen hung over everything. He even thought that the average person on the street looked a little more tense than usual.

  The troll spent hours each night doing the same thing with Gwen instead of the Borzoi, but not a single piece of the puzzle had shaken out yet. His biggest accomplishment in the last trio of days and nights was intervening to shoo away a couple of mangy dogs that had cornered a cat in an alley. The feline hadn’t even been grateful for the rescue and tried to claw him. He’d growled, the cat panicked and ran, and that had been that.

  His mood was low as he and Max wandered through their old neighborhood, headed for the Cathedral where Professor Charlotte now worked. He figured that he could at least spend some time in the ancient-looking common area, or maybe in one of the classrooms decorated in the style of a different culture. He particularly enjoyed the Irish-themed room and had more than once heard a child whisper, “Look, it’s a leprechaun,” as families toured the spaces.

  But when he saw the Professor and Manny walking together toward the coffeehouse with the delicious bubble tea, he and Max diverted to follow and caught up with them about a block before the entrance. Both of their expressions were uncommonly grave, and they greeted him with only a nod and a gesture for him to precede them into the store. Booths made up the wall the door was on and the one to the left, and Max selected a table to lay under. Rath slid in, and shortly thereafter, the older folks returned with a bowl of water for the dog and tea for the rest of them. Professor Charlotte sat beside him, and Manny took the opposite side.

  “Why upset?” Rath’s sense that things were heading in the wrong direction had intensified upon seeing their faces and grown with every second since.

  Emanuel shook his head. “We all feel like something bad is about to happen. Each of us thought we were the only one but then we talked about it and discovered we all shared the same dread.”

  The troll nodded. “Me too. Other shoe.”

  Professor Charlotte replied, “Exactly that. I’m not sure what the first shoe was, but it truly feels as if another one is about to fall. And land right on our heads.”

  “Attack in Philadelphia. Remembrance.”

  Manny blinked, startled. “Really? The news merely said it was a freak accident.”

  “Coverup. Bad guys.”

  “Holy cow. That’s…bad, I guess is the only word for it. But very bad.”

  “How can we help your group, Rath?” she asked.

  He looked at Max, but the dog didn’t have any ideas either. “Not sure. Keep lookout. Tell if you see something.” He raised his eyes to the man across the table. “Hide artifacts.”

  They both nodded. The troll took a sip of his tea, but even the tapioca bubble filling his mouth with sweetness failed to lighten his mood. The others sensed it or felt it themselves, and the gathering quickly broke up. Rath and Max headed home to be ready in case they were needed.

  Reflecting back upon it, Nehlan thought that never in his life had he been as angry as when Dreven denied him the opportunity to kill the woman after he’d tagged her. His plans had been set and his weapons prepared, all in readiness to eliminate her that very evening. He was sure that when his master contacted him, it would be to wish him good fortune on the elimination of that particular threat.

  But no.

  Instead, his
increasingly hateful superior had told him to wait until the moment was right. Nehlan had argued vehemently about the benefits of catching the woman unaware while she believed she was safe with her friend. He’d made the case that they would never, ever, have her more defenseless than that night. His logic was flawless. He was positive he would have his wish.

  But no.

  “You will wait,” was all Dreven had said before his magical representation vanished, leaving the elf sitting at his table, the deactivated statue in front of him, completely stunned and more furious than he had ever been. He’d called his human servants in and planned to kill them in her stead, but the fact that they had no minds left to resist with made it a futile gesture, and he sent them away with copious curses instead.

  The intervening time had been spent uselessly. His mind was locked on the woman, obsessed with vengeance. Killing her would get him back into the good graces of the Remembrance leadership, and to have it delayed was maddening. His brain went around and around and made arguments that his imaginary superior denied one after the other. He managed no sleep, only unconsciousness when his body stopped responding after several days of wakefulness.

  But today, finally, his journey to vindication would begin, even though it was to be far different than his imagination had painted it. When given the new approach, he’d done his reconnaissance and located a secluded space close to his target’s house that he could portal into. His contracted subordinates had watched her for days, ready to alert him if she should do something unexpected, but her routine was like clockwork. While the middle of the night would have been his choice of timing, the orders were to make his move in the late afternoon. That was not optimal but doable. At least it was a weekend day, so she would be at home.

  He stepped through from his Oriceran bunker to a park around the corner from the woman’s house. The space had been cleared in advance by his human employees. He’d considered letting them take care of this step of the process, but his anticipation of defeating Agent Diana Sheen had nagged at him for so long that he couldn’t pass up any part of it, no matter how small.