FALCON: Resistance (KBS Next Generation Book 1)

by Victoria Danann

  Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he might have seen something move in the shadows, above the level of the garbage bins. But when he jerked his attention toward that spot, it was gone. After a few seconds the sensations receded and his calm returned. By the time a full minute had passed, he’d decided it was his imagination, the product of too many nights spent in dark, smelly places chasing monsters.

  Even in times such as those, knights were not expected to continue patrol after an encounter with vampire. In fact, it was against rules to continue patrol on a night when hunters had been engaged. They were, after all, only human.

  Falcon had caught a whister back to J.U. with Wakey and Spaz.

  Once they were settled on board, Falcon turned to Spaz. “You worry about Sin going off on his own like this?”

  Spaz shook his head. “He’s always had his own way of processing things and likes to do it on his own. He takes these things hard.”

  “He seemed really disturbed about the girl.”

  Spaz leveled a look at Falcon. “Weren’t you?” Falcon didn’t bother to answer that. He just stared until Spaz realized he was being defensive on Sin’s behalf. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that. Yeah. It might be getting worse with Sin, but he’s my partner. You know?”

  Falcon glanced at Wakey and wondered how he’d handle it if his own partner began expressing questionable behavior. Certainly Wakey had backed him every step of the way during his flirtation with insanity. Falcon wouldn’t hesitate to do the same for his partner.

  “Yeah. I do. I wasn’t just prying though. He’s our teammate. We care about him, too. Reason why I was asking… Monq is really good at sorting heads. I’m just saying. If you ever think he needs somebody to talk to, I recommend our resident weirdo.”

  Spaz looked at his feet for a minute. “Yeah. I’ll keep it in mind.”

  At ten o’clock the next morning, Gretchen’s trainee assistant for the day arrived looking like a giant floral arrangement on legs. She wasn’t sure how he was able to see through the dense flora, but somehow he managed it and hefted the apparently heavy bouquet up and onto the counter.

  “Geez,” he said. “Somebody thinks you’re the sh… The, uh, best.”

  “You’re sure those are for me?” Gretchen asked.

  “Yeah. The morning watch stopped me on the way here. Said to bring these if I was coming this way. There’s a card.”

  She walked over and practically snatched the card away from the clear plastic trident that held it in place.

  It read, “Still sorry. Please don’t take it out on the flowers. They’re just doing their job.” - Kris.

  She let the tiniest smile form before getting her scowl firmly back in place. Her eyes snapped open to look at Guarza, the trainee on duty. “What’s your name again?”

  “Guarza, ma’am.”

  “Isn’t one of the knights infirm right now?”

  “I’m not sure, ma’am.”

  “Go find out.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Ten minutes later, which meant that Guarza pretty much had to run, he arrived back in Operations. “Yes, ma’am. Sir Dunnedin is there. The nurses said he’ll be there for two more days.”

  With all the disappointment that had come from the antidote that everyone had believed would cure the vampire virus forever, there was one good thing that had come of it. They’d discovered that, if a hunter was infected, topical administration of the antidote directly to the wound, if done quickly enough, would kill the virus before it spread and converted the hunter’s biosystem to that of a vampire.

  Afterwards all the knights began carrying two-ounce plastic vials of the antidote. A few months earlier Sir Dunnedin would have been dead, but Monq’s experiments had resulted in something truly beneficial. Certainly the knight recovering would say so.

  The flowers were a riot of color, like a party in an extra large vase. Dozens of gerbera daisies and orange pixie carnations with sprigs of yellow orchids cascading like a fountain. Beautiful. And cheerful.

  “Take these to the nurses’ station. Tell them they’re for Sir Dunnedin and that Sir Falcon says, ‘Get well soon’.”

  On his way to the workout level, Falcon passed one of the nurses from the infirmary.

  “Hey, Kris,” she said. “That was a lovely thing you did for Dunnedin.”

  He cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

  She rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. The flowers!”

  “Oh,” he said.

  He pushed the elevator button for Hub level, got off, and strolled into the O.O. A quick scan revealed that there were no flowers in Operations.

  “Can I help you, Sir Falcon?” Gretchen asked with a crisp and rigid formality that was intended to send a no-nonsense message. She also didn’t get up from her desk.

  “No. Just checking to see if you got the flowers. And my apology.”

  “Yes. And yes. Anything else?”

  He stared for a few beats. He’d remembered that she was good-looking, but hadn’t thought that she was breathtaking before. Granted, the night she’d come to dinner he was so busy devising a way to get rid of her that he hadn’t really looked, at least not the way he was looking then.

  “No.” He smiled. “Just checking.”

  He left without looking back. Gretchen was thankful for that small favor from Fate because, if he had, he might have seen how that smile had crumbled all her defenses.

  “What is it about that boy?” she mumbled to no one as she went back to work.

  Falcon stopped by the Hub barrista, picked up his coffee and ham and cheese croissant, and sat down at one of the tables in the Solarium by the Courtpark windows. He stared out the window for a few seconds before leaving his coffee and breakfast sandwich where it sat. He bought six different kinds of desserts from the bakery and walked back to the Operations Office.

  When he walked in carrying three large styrofoam containers, Gretchen looked up and said, “What’s that?”

  “Desserts” he answered with a blank expression.

  “Dessert?” She looked confused. “Why are you bringing me dessert?”

  “Not dessert. Desserts. I’m demonstrating how much I like your curves.”

  She blinked three times as her lips parted. It might have been the first time in her life she was gap-faced speechless.

  Falcon left the containers on the counter, turned, and walked away without another word. After he was gone, curiosity got the best of Gretchen. She got up from her desk and opened the containers. The smell of cloves assaulted her as she opened the one with carrot cake and she immediately started salivating. She had to admit that an assortment of desserts and a compliment about her figure was a darn good apology for suggesting she was fat.

  She’d leave the assorted cookies on the counter for knights to help themselves, but she was keeping the carrot cake, the fudge pecan caramel tart, the blueberry popover and the raspberry pie for herself.

  When Falcon returned, his table had been cleared. He went back for a fresh coffee and croissant and returned to the solarium. He nodded at B Team, who was sitting nearby in the corner. Elora gave him the dazzling smile as she always did. Every time she saw him she acted like he’d just successfully defended her from alien assassins, or like he was her walking legacy. Maybe she believed that. What was important was that Falcon secretly loved the recognition, appreciation, and affection.

  He took out his phone and started reading news while he ate, but now and then he overheard a word or two from B Team’s table. “Shadows.” “Not there.” “Hunt.”

  When he finished eating, he sauntered over. After greetings all around, he said, “Look. This is probably out of line, but I couldn’t help overhearing a word or two of your conversation.”

  After a somewhat uncomfortable pause, Storm said, “And?”

  “And I was just wondering if there’s something unusual going on.”

  “Other than what you did or didn’t hear, do you have a reason to think there�
�s something unusual going on?”

  “Maybe.”

  Storm glanced at Kay, then Elora, then Ram. “Maybe,” he repeated.

  Falcon couldn’t help but notice that all four were looking at him with a measure of intensity, waiting to hear what he’d say next.

  “Elaborate,” Storm insisted.

  “It’s probably nothing.”

  “Sit down,” said Storm. He reached out with a long leg, hooked an ankle around the leg of a chair from a nearby table and pulled it in. “We’ll be the judge of that.”

  When they’d made room for a fifth chair, Falcon sat down.

  “We got two last night.”

  Storm nodded. “We heard.”

  “Just before the incident I thought I saw something move in the shadows, but it wasn’t anything to do with the takeout. It was sort of like a harbinger, I guess. First alert. If it wasn’t for thinking I’d seen something, I wouldn’t have put the other half of the team on alert. Had no reason to at that point.” He didn’t miss that B Team looked at each other. “Then afterward, I was waiting with the girl’s body by myself. Spaz and Wakey were waiting for cleanup where the biters had fallen. Sin took off after he staked the girl so I was waiting there alone. I got this super-weird feeling. Creepy as could be. Thought I saw it again. Something in the shadows out of the corner of my eye. Not on the ground. Up above, like on top of the receptacles. But if it was ever there it evaporated.

  “I figured it was nothing. My imagination. Too many nights on duty. PTSD or something. But I just heard you talking.”

  Storm took in a big breath and nodded to his teammates.

  “Looks like you saw him, boyo. The Jazz Man,” Ram said.

  “Jazz Man? You think I saw something real?”

  “It’s a possibility,” said Kay. “We’re not sure what the deal is yet either, but several knights have seen this guy. Just like you said, he shows up when vampire are nearby and gets your attention. Almost like he’s out there doing what you said. Issuing alerts. Some of the guys are calling him Jazz Man because he wears dark suits, with dark shirts and ties. And sunglasses.”

  Falcon scowled. “At night.”

  “Yes,” Kay said. “Don’t make me sing the song.”

  “What song?”

  “He was no’ even born when that song was the kitty’s meow, Kay,” said Ram.

  “I thought it was your job to teach music appreciation,” Kay said it like it was an accusation.

  “’Tis,” said Ram. “But nobody appreciates eighties music, Kay.”

  Kay huffed. “I Wear My Sunglasses At Night.”

  “What?” Falcon blinked.

  “The name of the song. ‘I Wear My Sunglasses At Night!’.”

  “Oh. Well.” Falcon looked confused. “I didn’t get a look. So what do you think is going on?”

  “We’ve reported it to Edinburgh. Historically there’s never been anything like this,” said Storm. “So we don’t know what to think. Whatever this Jazz Man is up to, his behavior seems to be benign, even helpful, but we’re proceeding with caution until we know more.” Storm leaned on the table. “If you should ever get close enough to talk though, ask him what the hel he wants.”

  Falcon nodded slowly. “Okay. I can share this with my team. Right?”

  “You might as well,” Storm said. “If you’re going to be part of his inner circle.”

  “Now you’ve lost me again.”

  “We think he’s only attaching himself to certain teams. No idea what his criteria is. No idea what he wants to accomplish. He’s helped us out a couple of times. Sort of pointed us in the right direction. Right now we’re not patrolling the same nights as your team, but our teams are covering the same area.”

  “So you’re handling this as a ‘need to know’ thing.” Falcon said flatly.

  “We really haven’t gotten far enough with this to come up with a policy. We’re kind of taking it night to night, but I’ll tell you this. We’ve been more productive since this guy started dogging us.”

  Falcon looked into Storm’s eyes, seeing the weariness and the full implication of what being ‘productive’ means when you’re a vampire hunter who can’t retire.

  Throughout his workout Falcon thought about what he’d learned and made a mental list of questions he’d ask the next time he saw a shadow that gave him the willies.

  At ten o’clock in the morning Gretchen’s trainee for the day arrived carrying an arrangement that was even more spectacular than the first two, if that was possible. Breax set them down on the counter and peeked around.

  “Morning, Director. Somebody has a persistent admirer.” He smiled.

  “Good morning, Breax. Is that as heavy as it looks from here?”

  “Let’s just say it’s a good thing I bench press.”

  Gretchen’s eyes ran over the mass of yellow and lime-green pixie carnations, daffodils, orange lilies, and trailing vines of yellow orchids set against a backdrop of ostrich and tree ferns. It was magnificent.

  She pulled the card away from the holder and opened it.

  It read, “Not nearly as beautiful as you. Still sorry.” - Kris.

  “Take these to the coffee shop, Breax. Set them down on the counter where everyone places their order. Tell them Sir Falcon wants to brighten the day of every soul who comes seeking to be blessed by caffeine.”

  Breax chuckled in a way that let Gretchen know he was enjoying the game. “Yes. Ma’am.”

  When Falcon got off the elevator and started toward the coffee shop, he stopped dead in his tracks in the center of the Hub. Even from that distance he could see that the awesome arrangement he’d had delivered to Gretchen Galen had made its way to his favorite barrista.

  When he approached, everyone in the shop came to the counter and began clapping. He was blushing and knew that, even though he had the permanent tan of olive skin, it would be evident. As he smiled externally, he internally cursed the Director of Operations.

  He accepted the bag that held his croissant. “What did they say?”

  “Who?” asked Jimmy, handing over Falcon’s coffee.

  Falcon glanced at the flowers. “Whoever delivered this.”

  “Oh! That you wanted to brighten everyone’s day. And wow. It really does. Thank you.”

  “Sure.”

  Falcon wolfed down his croissant, grabbed his half-drunk cup of coffee and headed for the O.O.

  Gretchen sat at her desk typing on her keyboard. Breax sat in the cubby reserved for trainee assistants and gave Falcon a knowing smile.

  Falcon wished Breax wasn’t there because he might have a few choice words for the beautiful D.O. otherwise.

  “Yes?” she asked without looking up from her keyboard. “Can I help you?”

  “Just stopping by.”

  She stopped typing, but didn’t move her fingers from the keyboard. Looking over at Falcon, she said, “For what?”

  “To see if the florist followed my instructions.”

  “I’m sure he did.”

  “So where are they?”

  Breax was grinning at that point. Falcon shot him a glare that had him turning away to mind his own business.

  “Doing their job.” She repeated his words. “And brightening everyone’s day.”

  “Everyone’s but yours,” he said drily.

  “My day was brightened when this office was uncluttered.”

  “Okay. I get it.”

  He turned and left without another word. Worse, Breax gave her a look of reproach that accused her of going too far. And maybe she had. Being judged by a fifteen-year-old really drove that home.

  She remembered the smile from the day before and decided maybe she’d take Wakey up on his offer to share information that directly bears on the situation. She looked up his number and called it.

  “Director Galen?”

  “No. That’s me.”

  “Ha! My kind of joke and my kind of girl. You’re calling to say you’ve changed your mind about being intereste
d in me, right?”

  “Wrong. I’m calling to say I’ve changed my mind about hearing what you have to say on behalf of your partner.”

  “I’m not on duty tonight.”

  “I close the office at seven.”

  “How would you like a change of scenery?”

  “What did you have in mind?”

  “We could go have dinner off base.”

  “New York?”

  “No. The whisters will be busy taking teams into the city until ten o’clock. Unless you’d like a really late dinner.”

  “That’s tempting, but it wouldn’t look good for me to yawn my way through the morning. I just got here, you know. Have to make a good impression.”

  “Why? You got the job.” Gretchen opened her mouth to reply and realized she didn’t have an answer for that. “I’m just messing with you. I have a car here. We can go get suburban surf and/or turf. “

  “Sure. Sounds good.”

  “Meet you at the front door at seven thirty.”

  “See ya then.”

  Gretchen rushed back to her apartment to change into something more comfortable and less professional. She’d arrived at J.U. in early September when the season was still trying to decide if it was summer or fall. The past few days had all been the same. Pretty, but cool. So she dug out skinny jeans, black ankle boots with enough heel to be feminine, and an oversize silk high-low blouse that draped her body, clinging to curves in a way that was sexy, but not slutty. She wanted to look decent, but didn’t want to send the wrong message to Wakenmann.

  She put on lipstick that was too red for office wear, but just right for going out to dinner and made it to the front door at exactly seven thirty.

  He was nowhere in sight, but she got a phone call within a minute of arriving.

  “Hello?”

  “Come out. Come out. Wherever you are. I’m the one waiting in the red car.”

  She grinned. “Okay.”

  The watch on duty opened the door for her. “Have a nice night, Director.”

  “Thank you, uh…”

  “Crow.”