by Martha Carr
“What about the light magic creatures inside? They won’t just lie down and let that happen. There are quite a few of them.”
“There are also quite a few of us nestled in there, more than most people know. In fact, one of our prominent government contacts is as dark as can be. The elves I’m not worried about. They have big hearts, and that will be their downfall. I’d like to see a few of them get what they deserve anyway. They’ve made life nearly unbearable for the elders since they came to Earth, acting like they are all high and mighty. Like they rule things. We are not on Oriceran anymore, and there is no elf queen floating in an invisible castle over our heads. That rule doesn’t exist here, but ours does.”
“What about the humans?”
“Who cares about them? They are weak. They wouldn’t even see it coming. Everyone has trusted the Silver Griffins for so long that it would never even occur to them that not everyone is out to stop magic or do the bidding of the Feds. They think that the Griffins are all working together in a copasetic founding, helping each other and ridding their new world of dark magic.” She laughed. “Please! They will ultimately do what is in their best interests. That is one thing we have in common with humans. We look out for ourselves first, then, if the timing is right, we jump on the bandwagon to help the rest. As long as the dark families are in power, no one will question our ethics or morals—two ridiculous human standards.”
Louie leaned back, thinking about the next question to ask. He didn’t want to mention Leira’s name first since it would definitely send up red flags, but at the same time he wasn’t sure how to steer her in that direction. She was already all over the place with her ideas and thoughts because of the alcohol, and he didn’t need her getting any louder.
“So why hasn’t it been done yet?”
“Well, we are almost there. There is just one thing standing in our way.”
“What’s that?”
“Leira Berens.” She sneered.
Bingo! Louie knew the promise to leave Leira alone had been an empty one. There was no way that one dark family could force all the others to agree to uphold his deal. She was still in danger, and from the sound of it she was a very large blockade in a very important scheme. Louie narrowed his eyes and sat back as Veronica continued to talk, shifting between the plan and what she had for dinner three nights before. She was beyond wasted. Louie was just glad he had gotten the information out of her before she blacked out.
The portal shut in a spray of black and gold sparks, forcing Louie to stand back and cover his face. He had sat there until the bar had closed, making sure Veronica stayed upright on her stool. The bartender knew where she was headed but wasn’t about to give him the coordinates, so he’d been hugged about a thousand times before pushing her through her portal. When it had finally closed, he let out a deep breath and shook his head at the bartender. He pulled an extra twenty from his pocket and tossed it on the bar.
“For your trouble.”
“It’s a nightly thing, but thanks,” he gruffed.
Louie finished his drink and tapped the bar as he headed out, getting strange looks from passersby since to them it looked like he was coming out of a pest control office. He pulled his sweatshirt’s hood over his head and shoved his hands in his pockets as he made his way back to Chinatown. It was late—too late to think about waking up Leira. He’d just talk to her tomorrow. The information was deeper than he had thought it would be, and it sounded like Leira was just the tip of the iceberg. There was a full-fledged conspiracy going on and it involved the government, the dark families, and a bunch of now-traitors within the Silver Griffins.
Louie shuffled around the corner and into the Starbucks, hurrying through the bathroom hall and down the stairs to the train platform. It was the last train of the night, and he did not want to get stuck walking all the way across town, especially since it had started to rain. He climbed aboard the mostly-empty train and looked at a couple sitting next to the window, who seemed to be lost in their own world. Everyone else was either passed out from too much drinking or dark characters, their faces hidden by their hoods, not wanting to be bothered—especially by someone like Louie.
He wondered how many people on that train knew about the scheme being cooked up by the dark families. He wondered how many light magic persons would end up getting involved when things finally came to a head. They had come to Earth for more opportunities, not to wage war like so many were doing on the other side of the gates. Either way, he knew there would come a day when they had to make a choice—stand and fight or join the other side. He hoped he was right about his people—that they would stand and fight, and even die, for the chance to have magic unrestricted and protected there on Earth. Whether he liked to think about it or not, one day Earth would be their only home. If the prophecy was correct, Oriceran would cease to exist.
The train came to a stop and Louie exited, keeping his head down as he climbed the stairs and entered the Starbucks hallway. He left the shop and made his way to his apartment, the restaurant already quiet and closed. As he walked through the dining area, he tapped on the glass tank holding the large fish.
“Hey, buddies. You are getting bigger every day.”
He continued to the back and opened the door to the staircase leading up to his apartment. He took a step and stopped, turning quickly to see the shadow of someone standing in the dining room behind him. He cleared his throat and put his hand on his wand, stepping back out into the hallway.
“Who’s there?”
The person shifted slightly into the light, relieving Louie. It was Ava, giggling at how badly she had scared him.
“Thought you might need some late-night snacks,” she explained, holding up two grocery bags.
Louie shook his head and laughed, tucking his wand back in his jacket. He was damn glad he hadn’t shot first and asked questions later. Ava traipsed over to him with dangling bags and looked curiously at his face.
“You all right?”
“You...almost gave me a heart attack.”
“And you almost did a spell on me.”
“Nooo,” he gasped.
“It’s all right. You have learned patience. It was a test.”
“And had I failed?”
“You would have killed your best friend.” She shrugged and pushed up the stairs ahead of him.
“Sometimes I worry about your sanity.’
18
Senator Trumbull sat in his office tapping his pen on the desk, staring out of the window at the rain. Things were getting complicated with the Yakuza coming back into the picture, but he was determined to stay the course. He hadn’t spent this many years in service to his country, squeaking by as a middleman and hiding his true feelings on the magical community, to let it fall apart just when things were starting to heat up. Life wasn’t like it used to be, with little mention of Oriceran or anyone else magical, for that matter.
He ambled to the window and stood with his hands clasped behind his back, watching the people walking along the sidewalks. He wondered how many of them had powers. How many of them were part of some nefarious plan to take Earth over once the gates began to open? Times were changing. He had been waiting and preparing, collecting allies wherever he could without giving away his true feelings. His position in the Senate was essential to continuing to protect the sovereignty of the nation and the human race. He couldn’t allow his secret to be discovered by his constituents, not yet. They loved him because of his middle-ground views, which seemed to sway with their wants and desires. He had never taken a hard line publicly, having seen what that could do to a career.
People were too wishy-washy about their views. He had seen some of the most hardline conservatives sway to the other side over time, and the opposite as well. He knew that if he were to come out with his views before the fear of the magical community was entrenched it would bury his career in a heartbeat. He would not go down that way. He would be known as the people’s champion, the man who stood
for the rights of those native to the planet, not those immigrating with no choice on either side.
A knock on the door roused him from his thoughts, and the secretary stuck her head in. “Sorry, sir. I buzzed you, but you didn’t answer.”
“You did? I must have been lost in thought. My apologies.”
“Not a problem, sir. You have a call on line three from a Detective Fortwright of the Los Angeles police force.”
“Ah, thank you. Just another update on the crime rates in LA. Appreciate it.”
The secretary nodded and shut the door, leaving him alone. He cleared his throat, went back behind his desk, and put his hand on the receiver. Detective Fortwright was one of his contacts, a man who had proved to be a very useful informant on the movement of the magical community as well as the recent shifter issue. He picked up the phone and waited for the secretary to click off.
“Fortwright. I wondered when I would hear from you.”
“Sorry, sir. It has been hard to get any type of privacy lately. A lot has been happening, as you can imagine.”
“Of course. What’s going on out there?”
“There have been several attacks by the Yakuza, who have ransacked different wizard and elf homes looking for artifacts. From my understanding, these artifacts contain power that can shift the whole playing field for those with dark magic. I can only imagine what would happen if all magical creatures were forced to pay homage to the dark magic. The humans wouldn’t stand a chance. The Silver Griffins have had to come in twice now and erase bystander memories to hide the negative effects of these battles. We cannot stop them. I don’t have jurisdiction.”
“Understandable, and if you were to try it would raise eyebrows. My other contacts have reported similar circumstances.”
Trumbull was a man of opportunity, collecting connections across the globe. There were many important or well-placed people in his little black book, all believing in the adage—humans first. They gave information up like water to the senator—some truly fearful of magic, others knowing that to be on the “right” side of history was important for their more-than-fruitful survival as the battles raged. Opportunists were the same as those who feared to Trumbull, but he cared little about the reasoning behind their information. What was important to him was having those people there when he needed them.
“The Yakuza are a frightful bunch,” the detective continued, “though as far as I know, the last time Leira Berens faced them she and her team took down quite a few of them. That was a turning point for the group. I’ve heard their leader, Reo, is planning something else—a stronger organization—but for now they are laying low, trying to get the word to the Yakuza who are left that they have gone underground for the time being.”
Trumbull stroked his chin, listening to the detective replay the scene outside the parking garage. He already knew about that, since he’d been updated by Brushwood during a conference call earlier that day. Still, he liked to get the inside track from his contacts—things he wouldn’t necessarily know from the regular briefing.
“It’s why we pay the bounty hunter, that elf woman, to bring them in, or in this case, kill them where they stand. Sometimes you have to use the enemy to accomplish a goal.”
“That’s been done throughout history, sir, and I completely understand why you would do it. She has made quite the dent in some of the dark magic arenas. However, the price on her head is quite high. It’ll bring out more magical folk, aligning them with whatever side is willing to pay to take her down.”
“That should be a positive thing—fear in the community. Something to push our agenda further. It is only time, Leira Berens or not, that these dark entities come forward. From what I understand, every one of the Oriceran people has the propensity to fall into dark magic. Something about the light needs the dark to equalize.”
“Yes, but what happens when that darkness becomes stronger than the light?”
“A good question,” Trumbull mused. “And exactly why we are pushing this harder now. We don’t want to find that out, and we want to make sure that human lives come before any others. This is an unprecedented event and something I will not live to see through to the end, but what I can do while I am still here is attempt to put a movement in place to keep future generations safe in their beds.”
“Absolutely, sir.”
“I hear we’ve agreed to pay for the services of an oversized Yeti with green hair as well. At some point we will need to rein him in too, but not yet. We can use him.”
“Of course,” the detective replied. “There are several people on her team: a wizard with a sword and her boyfriend, a Light Elf, who works for Turner Underwood. Apparently, he is the new Fixer, which I have come to understand works like spec ops, taking care of bad situations before the Griffins or the feds need to intercede. He is straight from Oriceran, no Earth connections except for the bounty hunter, who he and the furball live with in DC.”
“Yes, yes, I know about all of them, and though I am not enthused about having more of these rogue magical things running the streets, it is imperative that right now we let them take care of what they are assigned to do. As I figure it, they are clearing the playing field a bit, which will give us a stronger hold when things begin to go south.”
“That will be helpful, sir. Dark magic is all about confrontation, and will not easily be beaten down when the time arrives.”
“True. Now, what about our wolf problem? Have you started the eradication?”
“Yes, sir, and we also have connected with other like-minded public servants across the country to help. We are researching, watching, and then attacking most discreetly. Just last week we got one to change in the middle of New York City, and even though the Griffins got there pretty quickly, there are still several photos and videos floating around the internet. Most are shrugging it off as a prank, but once these sightings begin to pour in people will continue to connect the dots.”
“And the leader of these dogs?”
“He is aware, I’m sure, but we have not heard from him, nor do we know his whereabouts. We are assuming that as these attacks continue he will come out of hiding. This is his pack—the men and women he chose to be on his side and fight with his team. He will not let them stay out there and get slaughtered.”
“Just be careful. We don’t need a riot, pitchforks and all, rolling down New York Avenue. We need to ease the human race into the knowledge, with Humans First there to soften the fall.”
“Yes, sir. Would you like me to put a watch on the Yakuza?”
“No, not yet. There are plenty of people watching their movements after the two attacks recently. You focus on the werewolves—one magical problem at a time. First we get rid of those freaks of nature and then we can move on to the next. From my understanding, there are enough different kinds of magical beings to keep us busy long past when I am dead and buried.”
“Of course, and I will update you on the shifters as soon as we know more.”
“Good, and thank you for calling me. I like to hear that everything is under control.”
Trumbull hung up the phone and leaned back in his office chair, tapping his fingers on the desk. Everything was going as planned, with the bounty hunters pulling the dark magic beings out of the shadows, many different people looking for the shifters, and the public slowly becoming aware of what was coming to their planet. Now all Trumbull had to do was sit back and wait, keeping his place in the Senate, continuing to vote as he always had, and allowing his contacts to get in touch with him whenever they needed to. He wanted to hear the news before it hit the Griffins’ or the feds’ ears, giving him time to prepare his response.
In Trumbull’s eyes, the human race had never been in more danger, and he was determined to be one of its saviors. The bounty hunter and her group of friends would eventually meet the same demise, but for now, he was keeping them close. Let them kill their own kind, leaving him a hero.
19
Leira sighed, pulling
her bag over her shoulder as she made her way down the stairs to the platform at the train station. It had been a long day—first the gym, then talking to some of her contacts, and eventually having a short meeting with Thatcher and Brushwood. She hadn’t realized her life was going to be so crazy as a freelancer, not that she really wanted to complain. She liked being busy. She’d just thought there would be more chasing down perps and throwing around criminals.
When she reached the bottom the train hadn’t arrived yet, so she stood in the line of exhausted people making their way home from work. Seeing them reminded her to stop complaining. She could easily have been one of them, slaving for the man and going home just to get back up the next day and do it again. It wasn’t exactly what she would have imagined things to be like for a magical person on Earth, but then again, from the looks on most of their faces, they hadn’t thought it would be that way either. With so many restrictions on magic and a society that didn’t thrive on free markets and trading, their only choice was to do what the humans did to blend in.
A train going the opposite way pulled up slowly, but Leira barely noticed it. She wasn’t much of a talker and really hoped not to run into anyone she knew. Instead, she stood there with her hands in her pockets, her hood pulled up with dark hair flowing out of the edges, looking down at the ground. The sound of the loading bell made her jump, so she shook her head and laughed at herself for being so edgy. But after the restaurant the other night, she thought it was a to be expected. She still didn’t understand why she was being hunted so viciously by the dark families. There had to have been over a hundred witches and wizards at that restaurant. It just didn’t add up.