Agents, Agreements and Aggravations: In Her Paranormal Majesty’s Secret Service™ Book Three

by Anderle, Michael

  “Because you’ve missed my dashing good looks and you’re finally ready to meet me in the supply closet for a quickie?” Rhone winked.

  Daggro’s face curdled. “Do you really think you should be talking that way to your superior?”

  Rhone chuckled. “C’mon, it wasn’t that long ago we shared a damn office. We’ve worked side-by-side, you and me. Ever since this department was founded, we’ve climbed the ladder together, don’t tell me you’ve already let the power go to your head.”

  Daggro continued to stare, her expression hard to read. She bridged her fingers together and rested her chin on top of them, leaning closer to Rhone. “You of all people should be aware that this department is growing more rapidly than anything the government has ever known. Since our little outing to Alexandria, and the new contract with the Paranormal Court, we’ve grown our workforce by five hundred percent. Our reach, in regard to spectral control and operations, has widened to as far as New York in the east, and West Virginia in the west.

  “As one of the fastest-growing federal agencies, there are opportunities to expand across the board. Opportunities for promotions, raises, to gain new skill sets. I have seized such an opportunity and I am now your superior, so you would do well to remember that, Agent Rhone.”

  Rhone saluted. “Yes, ma’am.” He felt displeasure at the sick joy that brought Daggro.

  “The point is,” Daggro continued, “that in this time of growth, we need to be working together. Agents need to be working on the same side. Orders must be obeyed. United we stand, divided we fall, it’s on our damn currency for fuck’s sake.”

  Daggro slammed a handful of copper coins on the desk, causing Rhone to flinch.

  “Work together,” Rhone responded. “Got it. Anything else…boss?”

  Daggro leaned back in her chair and twisted the monitor the remainder of the distance so that it faced Rhone. She tapped a button on the keyboard, and CCTV footage filled the screen. The footage showed Rhone and Jennie in the parking lot. It captured the moment of their “hug” as Rhone handed her the keys to his Chevrolet. A moment later, it skipped forward to the conduits and Hendrick climbing inside and driving away.

  “The same side?” Daggro asked. “Does that look like the same side to you?”

  Rhone did his best to look innocent, sticking out his bottom lip and shaking his head. “I don’t know what you’re asking, Holly. I was saying goodbye to some friends.”

  “It’s Special Agent Daggro, to you, Rhone. And you know the command, if that spoilt bitch wants to run off and play in her own sandbox, then she’s more than permitted to do so. However, she goes without our resources or our aid.”

  “Seems a lonely life.”

  “It should be,” Daggro growled. “You provided that woman with a vehicle to assist in her endeavors. That car is SIA property and you willingly handed it over to Rogue, contrary to clear instructions from your superiors not to.”

  Despite himself, Rhone smiled. “Oops.”

  Daggro flushed red. Rhone had seen this type of behavior before, a childish brat who thought that authority brought her respect. Rhone had no problem respecting his superiors when they showed they had the agency’s best interest at heart. But Daggro was using her position to abuse and bully, and that was something he wouldn’t be subjected to.

  Daggro unconsciously grabbed a piece of paper and screwed it into a ball in her fist. She slammed a hand on the table and shouted, “I will not take that kind of insubordination in my department. I have a line of agents training to be in a position to take your spot. I’d expect better from you.”

  Rhone, looking unfazed, waved a hand. “Please, Daggro, you know as well as I do that it’ll be months before anyone is trained to be in a position to do what I do. Take a breather, we can figure this out. It was one vehicle, what harm could it do?”

  Daggro exhaled loudly through her nostrils and sat back in her chair. She took a few steadying breaths and closed her eyes. When she opened them, there was a strange smile on her face. “You think you’re indispensable, don’t you?”

  “Hopkins certainly thought so,” Rhone replied. “He thought we both were. We were a team, remember?”

  Daggro nodded her head slowly. She reached into her lower drawer and presented a piece of paper to Rhone. “That’s right, Rhone. We were a team. Things are changing around here, and I’m not sure you quite fit the cut anymore.”

  Rhone chuckled, though there was a nervousness there. “What are you talking about?”

  It was Daggro’s turn to chuckle. “Agent Rhone, I hereby dismiss you from the Spectral Intelligence Agency, on account of misconduct, disobeying a direct instruction, and refusing to cooperate with a superior’s requests.”

  Rhone’s mouth fell open. “Hold on a minute, I…”

  Daggro interjected. “This dismissal is effective immediately, please take your things and leave the premises as fast. Two guards are waiting outside to assist you in this. An investigation will be opened imminently to further explore the charges. However, with the evidence I have, your outlook is bleak. Please feel free to appeal, although I don’t like your chances should you explore that route.”

  Daggro pressed a button and a small buzzer went off. The door opened and two agents who Rhone had never seen before, but looked half his age, stood either side of his chair.

  “If there’s anything else?” Daggro asked, smug satisfaction on her face.

  Rhone shook his head and narrowed his eyes. “What the hell happened to you?”

  Daggro laced her hands behind her head. “Success, my friend… Success…”

  Without another word, Rhone was guided out of the room.

  Richmond, Virginia, USA

  The manor already felt like a different place as the sun came up over the horizon and sent golden shafts of light filtering through the grimy windows.

  Jennie roamed around the manor, familiarizing herself with its layout. There were three floors, and each of them offered fresh insights into the house’s past and filled her with ideas of how she could repurpose the place.

  The others had also taken to exploring the house. She could hear them downstairs, laughing and calling to one another as they discovered new treasures and found pieces of interest. Carolyn had even come across a few hidden rooms that might turn out handy in the future.

  Baxter stood by her side as Jennie leaned against the door jamb and studied the master bedroom. A grand four-poster bed took one side of the room, yet there was easily enough floor space to fit a dozen more beds in there if she wanted.

  The specter smiled. “It’s a great find.”

  Jennie nodded. “I told you. The old library had blueprints of this place, and I saw the potential instantly. Far enough away from the SIA that we won’t have to worry about constantly butting heads, but close enough that we can find a way to work together…and keep an eye on them, of course.”

  Baxter chuckled, then his face grew somber.

  “What is it?” Jennie asked.

  “It’s just…the Mendlesons. There was so much misery there. How did you know you could heal them? What if all they wanted was to reside here forever? How did you know what to do?”

  A far-off look came over Jennie, and she strode into the room. She crossed to the thick moth-bitten curtains that blocked the sunlight from breathing life into the room and pinched the material between her fingers. “No one wants to live in pain forever, Bax. It was obvious that they needed help crossing over to the other side. Darkness and hatred communicate one major message, and that’s pain and suffering. Annabel wanted to be with her family, and she got all that she ever wanted, she just didn’t know the price it would cost.”

  “But to see through all of that and…and know that they were going to be okay.” He paused. “You do know that they’re okay, don’t you?”

  Jennie wrinkled her brow. “No. Nothing is certain when you cross over beyond the veil, you should know that. What I do know is that every story must have an end
ing, so that others may have a beginning.” She drew open the curtain in one sweep and blinked in the morning light.

  Baxter moved to the center of the room and looked around. “You realize that your motives could be misconstrued for selfishness?” He glanced at her but didn’t move his head, gauging her response as he played Devil’s advocate. “Some might say you’re justifying this all to yourself so you could use this house.”

  Jennie laced her fingers behind her back and stared out over the city. Richmond truly was a beautiful place, viewed from up high. Morning traffic was steady, and she could see the market coming alive far off in the depths of the town.

  “My priority is and has always been spectral survival. I know my role with the Queen was often to mute problems, but it’s only ever been for the greater good. The Mendlesons were suffering. I relieved their pain. Even if this manor hadn’t been a motivation for me, I would still have acted the same. The manor is a fortunate by-product of healing, and I swear on the Mendlesons’ name that this house will be put to good use.” She turned over her shoulder with a mischievous smile. “Besides, you should know I don’t give a shit what people think of me. I do the job, and that’s that. Let others think what they may.”

  Baxter offered a slow round of applause. “All hail the King’s Court.”

  * * *

  Jennie gathered her group to assemble in the drawing room. There were enough couches to seat them all, and the borders of the room were decorated with vintage wooden sideboards filled with glasses full of liquor that had aged to the point of extinction. A large chandelier hovered overhead, spiderwebs and dust turning the light into something that more closely resembled gray cotton candy.

  Jennie spread her arms wide and presented the manor. “Well? What do you all think?”

  Carolyn was the first to answer. “This place is amazing. I must have counted at least eighteen bedrooms. There are also two kitchens and a bunch of hidden rooms filled with children’s toys and, well, one of them may have contained something that could either be interpreted as a mini-prison or…”

  “Bondage gear,” Triton finished. He patted Carolyn’s thigh. “I understand it’s difficult for someone of your age to speak about such things.”

  Tanya placed her hands over Sandra’s ears.

  Carolyn shrugged. “Yeah, bondage gear.”

  Jennie and the others started laughing.

  Lupe spoke over the laughter. “Hopefully it was the former, not the latter. The last thing we need to think about is the Mendlesons getting involved in BDSM.” This elicited more laughs from the group.

  “Anyway…” Jennie managed, trying to pull them back on track. “It’s a great place, right? Big, roomy, a great view.”

  “Yeah, it’s lovely,” Ula chipped in. “Probably one of the biggest private houses I’ve seen. It’s a trove of treasures, though it certainly needs some looking after. I don’t even have asthma, but I’m pretty sure I’ve inhaled enough dust to trigger an asthma attack.”

  Carolyn crossed her legs and gave Jennie an inquisitive look. “Why are you talking about this place like a real estate agent? You looking to buy this plot?” She sat forward with sudden excitement. “Oh. My. God. You are, aren’t you? That’s so Jennie!”

  Jennie exchanged a glance with Baxter and found him smiling. Though he remained quiet, his eyes seemed to say, “Go on…”

  Jennie drew her cell from her pocket and held out a screen to the rest of the group. “The property is already in my name. Bax and I met the agent and made the payment a few days ago. Mendleson Manor is now officially King Manor.”

  There was an audible gasp from some of the people in the room. Even Roman, who traditionally held a permanent poker face, raised his eyebrows.

  “How?” Tanya scoffed. “How is this possible? This place must sell for, like…I don’t know…millions?”

  Jennie pocketed her cell and shrugged. “Several million, yeah. We don’t need to go into the minutia of my finances, but suffice to say that years of investing, saving, and working under the Queen creates a nice little nest egg to occasionally splash on things like this.”

  Lupe glared at Jennie.

  “What?” she asked.

  “You’re hiding away millions, and you let me pay for your meal at the diner?” Lupe grumbled.

  Jennie chuckled. “One good turn deserves another. You can have priority pick on your new bedroom.”

  The others gave Jennie confused looks.

  “You want us to live here?” Sandra asked, mouth wide open. Jennie couldn’t imagine what this would mean to Sandra, a girl from a time when only the aristocracy lived in extravagance.

  “I do,” Jennie confirmed. “This purchase is an investment on my part as we strive to become what we set out to become. I’ve emancipated myself from the Paranormal Court, I have contracts in place to secure our exploration of the United States and its surrounding regions, this is where we make our stand and truly bring the King’s Court into life.”

  “The King’s Court?” Triton scoffed derisively. “Who came up with that name?”

  Jennie looked out over the top of her glasses. “You don’t like it?”

  Triton laughed, looking around at the others for reassurance. Everyone remained quiet, not used to someone questioning Jennie’s wisdom. “The King’s Court? Seriously?”

  “What did you have in mind?” Jennie asked, curious to see where his train of thought was going.

  Triton shrugged. “I’d have thought you’d want to get away from all that stuff. Kings and Queens. Royalty. Y’know…Start afresh?”

  Jennie and the others chuckled. “I appreciate your honesty, we need more of that around here. But I’m happy to embrace my long life and the names and lessons it has bound me with. King is my surname, we’re separating from the Queen, so King it shall be. All in favor, say ‘aye.’”

  The chorus of “ayes” was more resounding than the raising of hands.

  “Well, that settles it. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the King’s Court. Now, shall we set about making this dust-ridden hovel of a manor a home?”

  Chapter Eleven

  Chinatown, New York, USA

  The streets were all but empty, and rain slicked the sidewalk. Neon signs lit Feng Mian and the agents’ ways through the passageways as they sneaked under vibrant red roofs upturned like artichoke leaves, and continued onwards toward their destination.

  They had already encountered a few of his minions. The Dragon was a fat, balding man who would much rather let others do his dirty work as he allowed an endless stream of beautiful women to attend to his every need.

  Feng Mian had encountered him before. In fact, it was thanks to the Dragon that he had been reunited with his parents after many long years. His mother had been held hostage by the Dragon, who, although he was a mere mortal, had taken a particular interest in the spectral world, and seemed determined to leak the secrets of their existence to the wider world.

  Feng Mian had believed him dead. Their last encounter had given Feng Mian the very real idea that the man had died, choking on his own phlegm. But somehow that had turned out not to be the case, and Feng Mian wanted to know how and why. It was the only reason he had accepted this mission.

  The agent leading the troop raised a fist in the air, and the group halted behind him. He went by the name of Agent Christian, although his demeanor was unlike anything of a religious nature. Feng Mian had overheard the nicknames the other agents and specters had given the square-jawed veteran, the most common of which loosely translated to “Berserker.” Christian was a no holds barred renegade who would stop at nothing to count a mission complete.

  Christian paused in the darkness. A group of civilians crossed the road, just up ahead. Judging by the way they walked, they’d had a few to drink and were on their way back from the festivities.

  When they were out of sight, Christian waved the team on, running with a slight hunch in order to lead through the sight of his rifle.

  They had
already run into a number of rogue groups of the Dragon’s followers. It seemed that the Dragon had been putting in work to increase his defenses since the incident where Feng Mian, Jennie, and the others had stormed the apartment building and caught him off-guard. Now he had clusters of guards patrolling the streets who were no match for Feng Mian and the SIA when taken by surprise.

  However, when even slightly alerted to imminent danger, they defended themselves well. The last scuffle had seen one agent shot in the leg with a silenced pistol, and a specter damaged to the point that his recovery would take a week.

  Their destination came into view just a few blocks farther on. They knew they were onto something when they paused and Christian indicated the roofs overhead. Patrolmen strolled along the roofs with rifles readied in their hands. Their silhouettes were stark in the moonlight.

  Feng Mian’s nostrils flared. He had been out with this troop for close to a week already, tracking down their target, and he was longing to get back to his family. Not even just his parents, who had rejected the SIA’s offer of acting as field agents and taking their own way out in order to pursue their travels of the world, but his makeshift family, too. Jennie, Baxter, Carolyn, Lupe, even little Sandra, they all sprang into his mind as he was summoned forward to take his position at the head of the group.

  The problem with dealing with mortals was a simple one: it was almost impossible to tell who had been gifted with the sight of the conduits, and who hadn’t. Given that the specters had the capacity of regenerative healing, it was their job to take point and tease out the conduits among the enemy.

  Feng Mian broke away from the shadows, his hands ready to cast his protective barrier should he need it.

  Three specters followed behind him, closely huddled as they examined their surroundings. They had been a good crew so far, one of the only reasons Feng Mian felt able to stay with them for so long. Although Feng Mian remained relatively quiet, he enjoyed their mirthful banter and their shared history when they sat up talking late into the night and took lookout for the agents. Specters needed less sleep than mortals, and so while the young new recruits snoozed on Christian’s schedule, Feng Mian had become familiar with the others.