by RJ Blain
“You’re trying to ruin my reputation, aren’t you?”
The President patted Anatoly’s shoulder. “I’m sure Felicity will correct him.”
“What am I correcting him about this time? Gentry Jones Adams, what have you done now?” Like most shifters, Lady Adams viewed aging as optional, and she matched my memories of her, except she wore jeans and a t-shirt instead of a ball gown. “I was working. Why is the Secret Service bothering me? Ah. Hello, Stephanie.”
“Felicity.”
The wolverine grunted, looking us over, and her gaze landed on me. “Well, well, well. Hello there, little lady. Who are you?”
“Runs Against Wind,” I replied, holding out my hand. “Pleased to meet you.”
Felicity squeezed my hand so hard I feared she’d break bones. “You’re the little minx causing my mate trouble?”
I flushed. “Siberian tiger, ma’am.”
The wolverine released me and whirled to face Gentry. “Where did you find a Siberian tigress?”
“I didn’t find her. She got caught up in the Starfall burst and shifted. Anatoly found her. I told you about the black cat.”
“I thought it was a panther.”
“Black Siberian tigress, apparently.”
“You didn’t tell me this.”
“She’s single. She kicked Anatoly in the face, Felicity.”
“What’s the problem, then?”
“What else? I thought we’d adopt him and maybe make it easier for the little tigress to bite him if she wants. She dropped the First Gentleman on the mat, Felicity. It was beautiful. Everything works out this way. The Blade Clan isn’t willing to bump chests with me, the cowards. I thought it was a brilliant solution to an old problem.”
“Okay.”
I turned and walked to the door, banging my head on the wall beside Randal. “What is wrong with these people?”
Randal chuckled. “Don’t ask. It’s complicated.”
“You weren’t supposed to agree with him,” Anatoly replied in a strained voice.
“I do. Go get bit already. You’re disgracing tiger men around the world. People are going to think you have a terrible personality because you haven’t settled down with a mate yet.”
“You can’t just—”
The President chuckled. “I’ll have Samuel approve your request tonight, Gentry, as it falls under Clan Council jurisdiction. Since your victim is an adult, you’ll have to get him to sign the papers, but I have no problem with it. Good luck. You’re going to need it to hold him down long enough to acquire his signature.”
Anatoly bolted for the door and slammed it behind him.
“He ran away,” I blurted.
Within half a minute, the office cleared out with Gentry leading the pack. I opened my mouth to ask what I’d just witnessed but thought better of it. Randal patted my shoulder. “Why don’t I take you somewhere nice and quiet to have lunch? Everything won’t seem quite so insane after a good meal.”
“No, I’m pretty sure it’ll still be just as insane, Randal.”
“At least you’ll have had lunch?”
“Think they’ll notice we’re gone?”
“God, I hope not,” my Secret Service agent muttered.
Randal picked a small diner in the heart of Charlotte, ordering me to sit in the open to make it difficult for anyone to corner me. He took the seat across from me, and I understood his choice when I spotted a mirror mounted in the upper corner of the room.
Lunch did help, although the amount of food I consumed horrified me and amused Randal. I got the feeling he broke rules by not announcing my destination and otherwise ignoring his earpiece, but I appreciated the illusion of escape.
“I don’t suppose you can explain all that?”
“You mean Anatoly and Gentry?”
“Yes.”
“Anatoly’s an odd one. He’s always been a Siberian tiger, but when he was five or so, he licked a Starfall stone.”
“That actually happened?”
“Curious cubs tend to paw and lick things. So, he licked a Starfall stone. It burst. His sister was also hit. It wasn’t long after their parents died; they were born pre-Starfall but were nulls. The fact they were born at all is considered a miracle. Their mother was supposed to be post-menopausal.”
“Post what?”
“Infertile due to age.”
I blinked. “Oh.”
“She was very surprised when she ended up with triplets.”
“Wait, triplets?”
“There was a younger brother. No one knows what happened to him.”
“How do you know all this?”
“Simple. I’ve been in the Secret Service a long time. I’m due to retire soon—same with my partner. We thought one more detail would liven things up for us before we hung up our jackets. We were both formerly on the Presidential detail, and we were briefed on Mr. Silverston’s circumstances. As you are now part of the situation, like it or not, you should know.”
“Isn’t that his private business?”
“Privacy is an illusion when you’re this close to the top, Miss Runs Against Wind. While I’m listening to my set with the automatic recorders turned off, many do record all the time. That’s why Madam President will evict Secret Service agents from her presence when she wants to have a private discussion—or hide in a bathroom. The bathroom is her favorite place to talk. I’m sure you’ve noticed this.”
“I noticed.”
“You’re handling your first shift very well. The erratic mood swings and aggression are expected, but you’re very restrained in who you’ll show your aggression to. If you have any questions, please ask. You aren’t the first youngling I’ve helped get through the first few weeks of being a shifter. Please don’t think poorly of Mr. Silverston or Mr. Adams. They have very difficult jobs. Men in their position find ways to relieve stress. In their case, it often involves fighting. With Madam President and Mrs. Adams supervising, they shouldn’t beat each other too much.”
It took me several minutes of poking pieces of steak around my plate to work up the courage to ask, “You’re not mad at me?”
“For someone in the Secret Service, their principal is the most important person in their life, even above their mates. Your life is my responsibility. I’m furious I lost track of you, but at myself for making an amateur mistake, not at you for testing the limits. Principals test limits, always. Madam President has given us the slip several times, but she’s far more experienced. You? You did it your first day. I have no excuse for my lapse.”
I hated reasonable people. They made my work so much more difficult. I hated reasonable people because I found it very difficult to dislike them. In fact, I too often liked them. When I liked someone, I didn’t want to hurt them or make them suffer.
I used the poisons I did for that reason. Just because someone needed to die didn’t mean they had to suffer. In battle, such thoughts abandoned me, but in the dark of night, when I stood over my victim and prepared to take their life, I chose mercy even when they deserved a great deal of pain.
It didn’t change my choice to kill them, but the method mattered.
I sighed. “Let’s say I needed to do something very secret, like a special delivery for a client. Let’s say I needed twenty minutes without a detail to do this. How would I go about doing it?”
Both of Randal’s eyebrows rose. “That’s a very unique approach, ma’am.”
“It might need to happen. Potentially for as long as an hour.”
“If it was important enough, an arrangement could possibly be made. Let’s say a principal wanted to get away for an hour, the principal might be required to wear a private comm so their detail would be able to be reached if assistance was required. If you were to discuss with Madam President the situation, she could also, at her leisure, temporarily give the detail an alternative task.”
“And if I found an interesting hole in the floor to explore?”
“Don’t, or at least
take your detail with you. Please.”
I gave a nod at the restaurant’s glass window. “Let’s say a bunch of crazy men jumped through that window and attacked us. What would happen?”
“My top priority is your safety. I would evaluate the situation, call for backup as required, and act accordingly.”
“So, what do I do, then?”
“Traditionally, you’d stay with me in such situations. It’s much easier for me to protect you if you’re nearby.”
I patted my katana’s hilt. “But I have this very nice sword, Randal.”
“It’s acceptable for a principal to dispatch anyone threatening their lives if their detail is… occupied.”
“Let’s say someone’s bothering you. I have this very nice sword. Can I bother them back?”
“It might be more efficient if you ask me what you can or can’t do while you’re assigned a detail.”
I stabbed a piece of steak and popped it in my mouth, keeping an eye on him and the steady crowd of people outside the restaurant. “Okay. Limitations. What are they?”
“In a fight, try to stick with me. If I give you an order to run, you run. If I tell you to stand still and let me cut an apple in half while it’s on your head, do it. On occasion, we might get a little more physical with our principals. Tomorrow, the Presidential detail will be running a drill. If you’d like to see a staged incident, I can inquire if you can observe.”
“I’d like that.”
“I’ll see what I can do. I should have an answer for you tomorrow morning.”
“Thanks.”
If I had to go toe to toe with the head of the Secret Service, understanding how they operated would give me a much better idea of what I needed to do and how to plan the assassination. First, I had to prove his guilt or innocence, but if I had to make the hit, I’d be ready.
Maybe if I provided undeniable proof of his wrongdoing and the threat he presented to innocent people, things wouldn’t turn out as badly as I feared. I wanted to hope for the best, but I didn’t quite dare.
Not yet. Not until I got closer to the truth.
Chapter Forty-Six
I talked Randal into crossing the city for coffee, but I had to bribe him to get my way. The indulgence calmed me, although the dark beverage gave me a serious case of the jitters and a tendency to jump and flinch at unexpected sounds.
“I’m amazed no one has banned the sale of coffee to felines yet.” My Secret Service agent took another sip of his with a purr. I envied his ability to purr.
“Not fair, you and your purring.”
“It comes at a price.”
I glared at him over my steaming mug. “Like what? You can purr.”
“I can’t roar.” Laughing, Randal gestured to his throat. “Cats who roar can’t purr.”
“That’s terrible. What kind of cat can’t purr?”
“Ones who can roar.”
Since I knew I’d already lost the discussion, I turned my attention to other matters. To hide my knowledge of the city, I had let Randal pick the cafe, a place I hadn’t been before. “How many places are there in Charlotte with coffee?”
“I know of six. There may be a few others littered around. They’re working on laying train tracks into Mexico and South America, so it should be easier to get. Same with chocolate. There are a few new trade deals that should lower prices enough people can actually afford it.”
“I’m trying not to think about how much I just spent,” I admitted.
Randal chuckled and sipped his coffee. “You’re not the first person learning to cope with a detail to indulge in something like coffee as a coping mechanism. You’re the first to successfully bribe me, however. You chose your bribe well.”
“Why do I have the feeling you accepted the bribe because it fit with your general plans?”
“You’re smart. That’s why. New shifters eat a lot, and it isn’t uncommon for one to be hungry again within an hour of eating. By going for coffee, I’m making sure I can take you to another restaurant if you’re hungry. To my knowledge, you missed breakfast.”
“Happens pretty often,” I confessed. “You’ve been in the Secret Service a long time, right?”
“I’ve served three Presidents.”
My eyes widened. “Three?”
“I was in the Secret Service at Starfall. After my general service, I was assigned to President Hampton’s detail. When President Wilson was elected, I was transferred to his detail.”
Only five presidents had died to unnatural causes since the foundation of the Secret Service, and I doubted anyone could have prevented President Wilson’s death. Somewhere in the heart of Fort Lauderdale, he and the vast majority of his detail stood as ruby statues.
The need to know spurred me into asking, “What happened?”
Randal’s smile couldn’t hide the man’s grief, and I regretted my question as soon as I saw the pain in his expression. “I, along with three other Secret Service members, were part of the advance scouting force. Our job was to check the route the President would take when leaving Fort Lauderdale. We were outside of the city when the Starfall stone burst. Its radius ended a mile from our location.”
“You saw it burst?”
Nodding, he dropped his gaze to his coffee. “Abraham became the head of the Secret Service, and I was given my choice of presidential candidates to take as my principal. I chose Stephanie Miller and was the head of her detail until four months ago, when I applied for retirement. Your detail will be my last assignment.”
I blinked. Abraham Adams had served President Wilson during the Fort Lauderdale Starfall burst? While I had mentioned the crystal city as motivation, it hadn’t occurred to me my uncle might have a personal connection to the tragedy.
“What’s it like, really? Being around…” I waved my hand to take in everything, uncertain how to best phrase my question.
“Around the rich, powerful, and unbelievably stubborn?”
“I was more thinking influential.”
“They’re tough. They’re stubborn, they often believe they know how best to protect themselves, and they do what they want.” Randal’s expression softened. “It’s rewarding when we’re able to make a difference and protect our principal.”
I realized the President had, in her clever, sly way, given me a chance to learn more about my target without having to go anywhere near him. A sharp pain blossomed deep within my chest.
If Abraham Adams proved guilty, I’d hurt Randal, too.
“It must be hard for you to have lost your principal. I’m sorry.”
“It was. There’s only one thing worse for someone in the Secret Service.”
“What’s that?”
Randal clenched his teeth together so hard his jaw whitened and his cheek twitched. “Traitors.”
“Traitors,” I echoed, a spark of hope flaring to life. Clearing my throat, I leaned towards him and whispered, “There have been traitors in the Secret Service?”
“Yes. It’s always a concern. Will someone we know and trust be someone who has an ulterior motive? With mystics able to confirm intentions and truths, it’s much easier to put trustworthy people in position, but it’s always possible for someone to slip through the cracks. Mystics aren’t infallible, and some are so good at lying not even magic can reveal them. Then there are those who change their mind over the years, disagree with something that happened, or some other unknown factor drives them to turn coat.”
“Oh.” I took a long drink of my coffee to buy myself time to think, but the same question rattled in my head and refused to leave me alone. “What would happen if there was a traitor in the Secret Service?”
“A bloodbath. If the traitor lived long enough to face trial, I’d be very surprised.”
Maybe I wouldn’t have much to worry about after all. I sighed, hoping he misinterpreted my reaction for something other than relief. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. It’s natural to be curious. It’s a very common qu
estion. Most outsiders don’t understand how dedicated Secret Service agents have to be. One traitor in our midst could result in our principal’s death, and that’s unforgivable. We have to guard each other and our principal. If someone undermines our efforts, it could be devastating. We have a complicated relationship with each other and our principals. In some ways, we’re closer than family—but a traitor? A traitor is an enemy and nothing more.”
I envied Randal’s black and white world.
We were halfway back to the mayoral palace when Randal grimaced, lifted his hand to his ear, and said, “Principal safe.”
“So much for a clean getaway,” I muttered, earning a glower from the older shifter.
“Trade and Frazier. ETA thirty minutes.” Sighing, Randal lowered his hand and scowled. “We’re expected.”
“Mayoral palace?”
“Dawnfire.”
I sighed, too. “Do you think Gentry caught Anatoly?”
“Probably. It wouldn’t surprise me if the First Gentleman heard from his detail what’s going on and decided to join in. Something so jovial doesn’t happen often, and the President and First Gentleman jump at such opportunities.”
“If we hadn’t gone for coffee…”
Randal dismissed my concern with a wave of his hand. “You were with me, supervised, and followed protocol to do something you wanted, something that would put you at ease with your new situation. It’s not an issue, and if someone makes it an issue, I’ll take it up with the head of the Secret Service. He’ll make sure it isn’t an issue.”
Abraham Adams was the issue, but since I, a lowly courier new to having a detail, wouldn’t know that, I faked a grimace. “It won’t cause you any problems?”
“What are they going to do, fire me? I’m already on my way out the door.” Chuckling, Randal changed directions and gestured down a side street. “If I were concerned, I’d find us a carriage. The people who have been attacking couriers aren’t a match for any of the experienced Secret Service members, and you’re capable with your sword. With a little practice and coordination, you’ll be able to work with us in most situations. Depending on tomorrow’s schedule, I may try to start you on drills in the afternoon. The drills require a certain number of unassigned Secret Service agents to play the role of attackers. We’ll use practice blades for the exercises. Expect bruises.”