The Redemption Saga Box Set

by Kristen Banet

  “It would have to be complicated and expensive.” Or everyone would do it. Sawyer sighed. That wasn’t something she’d expected. Every Magi bled off magic. Their Source constantly refilled and expended energy, a cycle. Burning out wasn’t permanent because the Source continued to produce magic, but it took time for a Magi to completely refill. When Sawyer had been wearing an inhibitor, the natural bleed of magic - a radiation, really - had been the only way her body hadn’t killed itself with excess, and it had been tough to deal with.

  To use that natural radiation of magic from any Magi to reinforce shields and enchantments…that had to have been done by someone powerful, very powerful. Or several people, a dozen or more, working together with clear intent. It said even more that she hadn’t noticed the magic in the walls. Now she focused on it. It was everywhere. The building held so many Magi, and had so much magic in the air, that it was easy to hide.

  “Sawyer?” Jasper leaned over her shoulder and she shook her head.

  “I was just thinking about it. I didn’t even notice,” she told him.

  “Most people don’t until they’re told.”

  They found James sitting at the bar. The older man grinned as they walked up, shaking Vincent’s hand before pulling him into a half-hug. Sawyer raised an eyebrow. He hugged Vincent. Those happy grey eyes fell on her and she held back a groan.

  “Sawyer,” James said pleasantly. “How are you?”

  “I was better in Georgia,” she answered blandly.

  “And she hasn’t changed at all, it seems.” Their handler laughed.

  “No, she really hasn’t,” Elijah confirmed. He was wearing a shit-eating grin, his eyes darting between her and James.

  James shook his hand, then Jasper and Zander’s. When he got to Quinn, he gently touched his shoulder. “I need to speak with you in private on Tuesday. There’s an important meeting for you on Wednesday and I want you prepared for it.”

  “What?” Quinn growled out the word.

  “I can’t tell anyone else about it. I barely convinced them to let me talk to you. They were going to blindside you with it.” James’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I’ll tell you more Tuesday. If you want to head back up to your room, you can.”

  “Thank you,” Quinn mumbled. With that, he turned and left, not another word or thought for them.

  Sawyer watched him go, confused and a little scared.

  “James?” Vincent asked, full of concern.

  “I can’t say anything,” James repeated. “It’s nothing bad. He’s not in trouble. It’s…fuck. It’s IMAS related. And I can promise, he’ll still be IMPO and on your team after Wednesday. They aren’t taking him.”

  “I don’t like the sound of that.”

  Sawyer saw the agitation all over Vincent’s face, but their handler only shrugged at them. “I can’t say anything else. It’s between Quinn and I…And the WMC, IMAS, and our bosses.”

  “Christ,” Vincent snapped. “Buy us drinks and tell us the rest of what’s going on here in New York.”

  “Oh, the rest is easy. You aren’t due for anything until Monday afternoon.” James picked up his own drink off the bar and took a sip. “First, they want to say you did a great job in Texas. You really did. You found a cell of openly violent anti-Magi residents. You secured an unregistered Magi who illegally took a position of authority over non-Magi.” He waved a hand “All of that. I’m proud of you all myself. People wondered if you could handle things since Axel had been caught and you now had Sawyer. I didn’t worry.”

  Sawyer narrowed her eyes on him. He was so easy, nonchalant about it all, as if they hadn’t been disturbed and haunted, and the entire thing had been easy. He hadn’t been there. He had no idea what Texas was like.

  She looked at the bar and waved a bartender down. “Whiskey,” she ordered. “On his tab. Whatever you have. Cheap.” She pointed at James.

  “Are you sure, ma’am?” The bartender, an attractive dark-haired man, pointed to several bottles they had behind the bar. “We have an impressive collection of some the rarest whiskeys, scotches, and bourbons on the planet. You should pick one, try out something new. On his tab.” The bartender winked at that last part, and Sawyer instantly knew that in another life, she would have a new best friend.

  “You have several varieties of Macallan there,” she noted. She hadn’t had a taste of Macallan in a long time. Years.

  “The twelve-year, the eighteen-year, and the thirty-year,” he confirmed. “Have you tried a Macallan before? On his tab, I would recommend the thirty-year single malt scotch whiskey. It’s aged in fine oak.”

  “I’ll take it. On the rocks, 2 ice cubes.” Sawyer chuckled. “How much?”

  “You might not want the answer to that. The bottle runs over three thousand dollars.” The bartender laughed. He slid her drink over to her slowly, and when she took it, his fingers grazed hers. “Come back any time.”

  “Sorry, I’m only in town for the week.”

  “Could be a fun week,” he retorted.

  “I’m not the girl you want to take home,” she whispered kindly before walking away and back to the group, who had wandered to sit in a quiet circular booth. She slid in next to James and held up her drink. “Thank you.”

  “Oh? Did I buy that? You’re welcome,” he said, chuckling with her. “What is it?”

  “Macallan, thirty-year fine oak aged,” she informed him, taking her first sip. Heaven in her mouth. It was delicious. “Runs about three thousand a bottle, so I have no idea how expensive this drink is.”

  “Christ,” he huffed, looking at the glass. “Vincent.”

  “Sorry,” Vincent said unapologetically. “I’m about to flag a waitress down and order one of those for everyone at the table. On your tab.”

  “What did I miss?” Sawyer looked between them. Vincent was threatening James? Happened often enough, but only when their handler was the bearer of bad news. More bad news.

  “Monday will be good, Tuesday will be awful, and Wednesday will be a nightmare,” Elijah said.

  “Monday, we get our backs patted for Texas. Tuesday, we’ll be separated for mental health evaluations.” Jasper sighed. “Which we knew. They will ask a lot of personal questions, they always do, and you just need to get through it without acting insane.”

  “And if that’s awful, what is going on Wednesday except Quinn’s meeting?” Sawyer looked from Elijah to Jasper, then Zander. Zander sank into his spot further, looking grumpy. Vincent groaned.

  “They are going to review whether you should remain with the team. Based on our, and especially your, mental health evaluations.”

  “Oh.” She felt the dread settle in her chest at that thought. “Is there smoking allowed in this bar?” There went her idea of cutting back.

  “Yes,” James answered politely. His humor was gone.

  She pulled out her pack and, with barely shaking hands, put the cigarette in her lips. She didn’t get a chance to get her lighter. The end lit up on its own. She mumbled a thanks to Elijah as she pulled something that looked like an ashtray closer to her.

  “Well, that’s not going to happen,” Zander announced. “We’re keeping her. Or we’ll do what we threatened when she was in the hospital.”

  “I’ll make sure to warn them,” their handler muttered, looking a bit angry now. “You do know they will eventually fire me and put someone stricter on you guys, right?”

  “Shit.” Zander grunted.

  “Yeah, shit,” James retorted. “I’m doing everything I can up here. Literally, they are pulling this out of their asses. You did fine in Texas. Sawyer, they will be aiming at your PTSD and your history. Looking for a way that may give them a reason to put you into care, without your magic. ‘Get you help’ is what one said. We both know it’ll be a prison sentence until the contract runs out.”

  “You’re buying me another one of these,” Sawyer said, lifting her glass. Then she finished it off and left the table again. She only made it three steps.
r />   Then security flooded the bar.

  Sawyer went still as the team stood up and walked over to her as well. James said a curse as IMAS soldiers took guard positions all over the room and yelled clear as they methodically made sure there were no threats in the room.

  Sawyer’s anxiety sky-rocketed. Were they here for her?

  “Rome is here,” James whispered cryptically.

  Rome? She had no idea what that meant.

  “D’Angelo?” Vincent asked softly. “Really?”

  “She’s just coming off a vacation. Why she’s here in the hotel, I don’t know. The Councilwoman has a residence here in New York. But this is definitely her entrance. She’s the only person who I can think of coming to town right now with this sort of security,” James explained quickly. “This should have nothing to do with us.”

  “Should,” she repeated.

  “They aren’t here to arrest or capture you. It would be a violation of the contract,” their handler continued. “Let’s just watch and wait for a moment.”

  Sawyer did just that, her eyes glancing over the soldiers. They were huge and well-armed. They each were in similar all-blacks to what the team wore on cases, but with key differences. Their pants were more military or cargo in style, with huge pockets on the thighs as well. They wore long-sleeved black thermals and Kevlar vests. Each carried a type of assault rifle, and Sawyer was going to guess it was an M-4, since it was standard military fare. They used the same sidearm that Vincent had given her before Texas, the Sig. On their upper arms, there were rank patches, which were also dark grey and black in design. She had no idea which patch meant what.

  “At ease,” a soldier told them as he walked closer. “We’re just securing the room. Agents, you can go back to your drinks.”

  “Thank you, Captain,” James replied, seeming much more comfortable. Sawyer had no idea where ‘Captain’ lay in the IMAS rank structure. “Whose presence are we expecting?”

  “Councilwoman D’Angelo,” the soldier answered professionally. Then he loosened up and smiled. “Can’t tell you anymore, but I don’t think it has anything to do with you. You can enjoy your night. Hoo-yah, brothers.” He looked to her. “And sister.”

  With that, the captain walked back to a group of soldiers in the middle of the room and began barking orders about where they needed to be. Sawyer raised an eyebrow at James, then turned it on her team.

  “Explanations?” She didn’t say anything more, just expected one of them to start talking - and immediately.

  “Don’t know anything about IMAS?” James frowned at her and then turned a mock glare on Vincent. “You should have taught her something about them before coming to New York.”

  “Captain is an officer rank in IMAS, O-2 specifically.” Vincent droned on, “Which means they are one rank over the O-1, Lieutenant. There are seven enlisted ranks and seven officer ranks. I’ll run you through them all later. That Captain is probably in charge of Councilwoman D’Angelo’s security team. It’s befitting his rank and it’s a prestigious assignment, so he must be very good at his job.”

  “Or very good at kissing ass.” Zander snorted in disgust. Even Jasper was glaring at the soldiers around them. “You rise to the highest rank of your incompetence in IMAS. By the way, the brother and sister shit? Yeah, they are all super motivated like that.”

  “Harsh,” Elijah mumbled. “And there she is.” He nodded towards the bar’s entryway.

  Sawyer looked back over and watched the beautiful woman walk in. Some things were startling about her, right off the bat. She looked young, nowhere over forty, but her hair was a long, silky silver, like the steel of a blade. She didn’t have the wrinkles to match the hair color, which made Sawyer wonder if she went grey early in life. The councilwoman didn’t even look their way, only went straight for a booth in the very back, where a member of the waitstaff was already waiting for her.

  “I think I’m going to go to bed,” Sawyer announced. “The bar seems less appealing with all of this here.”

  “I’ll walk you,” Jasper offered. “I don’t want to be here either. Zander?”

  “You all can go,” James said, waving them off. “I’m not comfortable with more talk about what’s going on with this many ears and one of the opposition sitting in the room.”

  “Opposition?” She frowned at him.

  “She was vocal that you should be executed in the hospital,” he whispered. “Go, before she notices any of you. She wanted the team disbanded, arrested, and tried for treason for sticking up for you. She threatened me a good bit too, but others convinced her I was just the messenger. You don’t shoot the messenger.”

  Sawyer left at that, the team hurrying after her. This woman had wanted her dead.

  New York suddenly sucked.

  8

  Sawyer

  Sunday came quickly, and Sawyer ran out of the hotel with Jasper on her tail. She barely waited on him to get his seatbelt on before hitting the gas.

  “Excited?” Jasper asked, looking over to her as he secured the seatbelt.

  “Obvious?” she asked back.

  “Very.” He chuckled. “Miss them?”

  “Yeah,” she sighed. “I have. I know everyone is doing all right, but I just…” She trailed off as they drove through New York. “You know, seeing that Councilwoman in the bar last night, what James had said about her, it freaked me out. I’m glad to be going to see my kids, and Liam and Charlie. They wouldn’t want me dead, ya know? Good people who gave me a chance. A reminder there is some good in this city.”

  “I get that,” Jasper replied. “Don’t let the Councilwoman get to you though. She is going to lose this battle. The majority of the WMC is in your favor and they have little to no reason to mess with you, unless you give them one. James is just warning us that if we step wrong, they are watching.”

  “They’re in my favor because the contract is in their favor,” Sawyer whispered.

  “Excuse me?” Jasper frowned at her and she closed her eyes for a moment while they were at a red light. When she opened them, it was just turning green and she hit the gas.

  “You know that me on this team is just something they can do until they need me, right?” She tapped her fingers on the Focus’ steering wheel. “The contract was clear. Did you read it?”

  “No,” he admitted. “Only Vincent and James were allowed to look it over.”

  “Jasper, they are keeping me alive and giving me my freedom in five years because I’m their assassin. One day they’ll need someone dead. And now they have someone they can call to make that happen.”

  “They would never,” he sputtered.

  “They are,” she pressed. “The WMC is just as corrupt as any other government. The thing is, I’m either their assassin or I’m in jail. I made the choice. Sure, it’s awesome being IMPO, learning what you guys do and helping people like in Texas, but it’s not the main goal of the contract. It’s a secondary goal. It’s their way of saying, ‘Yes, you can be useful while we don’t need you.’ It keeps me out of prison, per contract terms. But it’s not what they want.”

  “Does anyone else know this?” Jasper leaned back in his seat and stared at her. She could see him from the corner of her eye and didn’t like his expression.

  “I think Elijah? I might have made it clear to him on accident - or he figured it out.”

  “Then why are they trying to pull you off the team?”

  “Because they’re assholes?” Sawyer didn’t really and truly know. She didn’t know who all the players were and where they stood on her situation. She couldn’t make guesses as to who felt what and why. She could make one guess. “There must be factions. Pro-Sawyer puts that person as wanting the WMC to have a pocket assassin, which doesn’t look good. Anti-Sawyer means I should get locked away for my life, but the WMC doesn’t have an assassin, which looks better for them from a PR standpoint. There could be other standpoints, but those would be the main two, and there’s only fifteen people on the Council.
”

  “I was thinking the same thing,” he agreed. “It’s a complicated situation.”

  “Yes.”

  “How long is this drive?” Jasper changed the subject.

  “Depends on the traffic.” She looked around. There was a lot.

  It took them an hour to limp into the Bronx and get to the gym. Sawyer stretched her legs the moment she got out. Atlanta’s traffic wasn’t this bad, and she was mentally wondering when this trip had become a competition between the two cities. New York was her home. Fact. Her kids were here. Liam was here. Charlie was here.

  She also knew she could never live in this city again. Not with the WMC knowing who she was. Not if she wanted her friends in the city to be safe in the long run. Her old enemies would come out of the woodwork eventually, and since she’d been caught, her identity exposed, the risk was too high.

  Atlanta was safer. The plantation house far from the world was even better.

  “You ready?” Jasper asked, standing next to her in front of the gym.

  “Yeah,” she whispered, staring at the front doors. She walked up and pulled the front door open, a small ding announcing her arrival.

  “Sawyer!” Charlie laughed, practically jogging her way.

  She wrapped her arms around the older black man and they held on to each other. July was the last time they had stood in the same room. It felt like an eternity ago, even though it was only a few months.

  “I’ve missed you, old man,” she whispered, tears prickling her eyes. She clung to him hard, refusing to let the moment go so easily. “The calls aren’t enough.”

  “No, kid, they really aren’t,” Charlie said, his voice full of emotion. “Let me look at you.” He pulled away, his hands on her shoulders.

  She smiled at him, unable to stop it. He was a good man, and the only person she’d ever even considered close to a father. He’d found her on death’s door - and his door. She had been trying to break into the gym to use the showers, anything. Her injuries had stopped bleeding during her trip up to New York, but they had gotten infected. She had been dying, and he just picked her up, put her in his bed, and got to work. He only had one power, to heal, but he was very good at it.