Vengeance Served Hot_An Urban Fantasy Action Adventure

by Martha Carr

  Senator Brushwood yawned, covering his mouth. “Yes, and now he is behind bars facing all kinds of charges. We took care of it.”

  “These are the things that make people nervous. Everyday citizens, human ones, can’t protect themselves against fireballs and magical lightning. It’s absurd.”

  “But it is our current reality,” Trumbull cut in, setting his bag on the floor and taking a seat. “There are many things that are hard to understand, Lambert, but you are just going to have to start getting used to them. Magic is here, and though that sounds like some silly Disney movie, it’s real, and we are going to have to start dealing with it.”

  One of Trumbull’s aides approached with a cup of coffee and a Danish. Trumbull nodded, taking the coffee and inhaling the aroma. He had finally talked the committee into supplying decent coffee—the good stuff, straight from overseas. He’d had his fair share of sludge during his time in the Army and figured it was time to live a little. He was just happy that his days of adding whiskey to it had ended, though in the current climate he thought it might not be so bad to start again.

  He sat back and listened as the others continued to discuss the different magical happenings. He could sit there all day trying to explain things to people, but that wasn’t his job. Truthfully, he could feel himself shifting more toward their views regarding the magical community. It was dangerous, and he knew that the danger would grow once the portals began to open. Politics was his arena, though, and he was aware that to get what he wanted he would have to keep himself on an even keel. He couldn’t just reverse his opinion out of nowhere. It would raise too many suspicions, and that was not what he wanted at that point in his career.

  No, he would sit back and let the moment come. Little did the senator know that moment was just hours away.

  Senator Trumbull leaned back as the waitstaff took his lunch plate. The meeting was still going on, but they were nearing the end. He had spent at least an hour trying to explain to three of the other four exactly what the prophecy had said about the opening of the portals. Brushwood was part of the magical community and had been given a place on the committee to bridge the gap between the magical and the humans. Trumbull knew he also worked closely with the Silver Griffins, and one of the magical people on Earth, Leira Berens. Some of the senators loved having her on the team, others feared the powers that she had. Trumbull had remained neutral, never really giving his opinion but allowing the others to think he swayed toward the positives of her presence.

  After lunch they looked through their notes, doing a final once-over of the topics on the docket. They had covered most everything, but Trumbull could tell by the look on Greenhorn’s face that he had something on his mind. The man cleared his throat and leaned forward to catch Trumbull’s attention.

  “I want to bring something up. It’s a bit of touchy subject, but I believe that it needs to be discussed. It can be either now or later, but waiting could be detrimental.”

  “All right, what is it?” Trumbull asked.

  “There is a new activist group making some serious waves out there. They’re called Humans First, and they are completely against the integration of magical beings here on Earth. They’ve recently been protesting against aliens of any kind and are demanding that laws be passed to protect humans’ rights.”

  “Personally, I don’t think they’re asking too much,” Lambert replied, glancing nervously at Brushwood. “This is our planet, and we don’t know the full extent of what these Oricerans are capable of. We need some way to protect our own species.”

  “Now wait a minute,” Senator Oliver interrupted, shaking his head. “This is nothing more than a replay of what we have been fighting in this country for decades. We can’t welcome a species onto this planet with rules that separate them from the rest of us. By making them different in the eyes of the law we are pushing them away, not uniting with them.”

  “Don’t go bringing civil rights into this. It just isn’t the same thing.”

  “How is it not? Now that there is life on other planets we need to start looking at this as children of the same universe, not the same planet. If we begin the integration of another species into our world with discrimination and separation, we are only setting ourselves up for failure. I thought the point of continuing to discuss these historical movements was to keep us from making the same mistakes all over again?”

  “Something has to be done to protect us. We don’t know their motives.”

  “I think I do,” Brushwood interjected calmly. “And survival is our current motive. We don’t want to die on a planet that will no longer be there once the gates open. That doesn’t mean we want to take humans out. We just want to coexist and survive. I think the better way to handle the legal aspects is to pass laws that apply to the magical community the same way they apply to humans. Murder and other crimes are illegal, regardless of whether you use a wand or a gun.”

  Trumbull sat there quietly listening to the senators argue. Brushwood was, of course, going to take the side of integration, while Lambert was known for his old-school Southern views. Trumbull still struggled to understand how a man like Lambert had gotten the vote since he was always inches away from pushing for a resurrection of Jim Crow. It didn’t surprise Trumbull or Brushwood that he would hold those views regarding aliens coming from another world. If they weren’t like him they weren’t welcome, and that was the meat and potatoes of it.

  “All right, settle down,” Trumbull bellowed, putting his palms on the table. “Arguing like this is only going to create a wider gap. The public looks to us to guide them, and if they see hate and fear in us, they will mimic that. We need to figure out how we are going to get along as a collective. The gates will only continue to widen as time goes on, and this Golden Age will last for thousands of years. If the prophecy is right, it may very well be the last one.”

  “So, we are the saviors of our Earth now?” Lambert chuckled. “We can’t even agree if we care whether Oriceran is being destroyed, and we want to welcome hundreds of thousands—maybe more—people to this planet? Not to mention that they have abilities we don’t understand or know how to defend ourselves against.”

  “Last time I checked, we hadn’t figured out how to stop a bullet with our bare hands either, but we aren’t worried about getting rid of guns.” Evans crossed his arms and lifted an eyebrow.

  Lambert shook his head. “Apples and oranges. The fact of the matter is, we do have control over guns and whether we want them in this country. We have no control over magic and wouldn’t have the slightest clue where to start.”

  “You may not, but there are those among us who understand it very well,” Brushwood replied, slight irritation in his voice. “You can’t control everything, Lambert, and starting out on a negative foot is not how we want to integrate these new people. I’m not blind to your discomfort, but like it or not, we are here, and we aren’t going anywhere.”

  8

  Trumbull leaned his head back as he listened to his aide whisper into his ear. He nodded and looked at the group, letting Evans finish his thought. The conversation had gone on long enough, and he had to get back to his office.

  “The point is, this is just the beginning of the conversation. It will take many months to reach any kind of midway point.”

  “Very true, Evans,” Trumbull interrupted before Lambert could speak. “And on that note, I think we should bring this meeting to an end. I have a three o’clock conference with the senator from Kentucky, and I’d like to get out of the office by five today. My daughter is having me over for dinner.”

  “Give your family our regards,” Brushwood stated with a nod.

  “Thank you.”

  Trumbull stood up and shook each of the men’s hands. “Evans, a pleasure as always. Lambert, the same. All of you, until next time.”

  The men all stood and began to gather their things. Brushwood walked over to Trumbull and leaned in, his hand on his shoulder.

  “I appreciate y
our interjection.”

  “Of course. We can’t let these things get too out of hand, can we?”

  “No, but I have a feeling they will continue to do so as time passes.”

  “That’s politics for you.”

  Trumbull put his arms out for his aide to pull his coat over his shoulders. He nodded at Brushwood and walked out of the room.

  “The car is on its way, sir.”

  “No need. We are in the Russell Senate Office Building, my dear. It’s only a block away. The fresh air will do us good.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The aide held the door as he stepped into the sunshine, took a deep breath, and walked toward his building. He craved the silence of his office, but he knew he had to appear calm no matter how much the meeting had irritated him. The men on the committee never saw things clearly. It was always so black and white. But then again, the situation might just be less complicated than everyone was thinking.

  “Sir, you have a call. It’s the one you’ve been waiting for.”

  He nodded as the aide handed him the cell phone. Before he put the phone to his ear she backed away, knowing the protocol for calls like that. Trumbull was a pro by that point and understood the importance of not having any leaks or evidence when he had conversations of a sensitive nature. He ducked beneath the awning of one of the closest buildings where no one was entering or exiting.

  “I’m glad to see you’ve called,” Trumbull began.

  “You told me today was one of your meetings, so I figured it was an appropriate time.”

  The man on the other end of the phone was Charles Ashworth, a very visible leader of the Humans First Campaign. He commanded and rallied the troops, but he was also a hub for important connections. He didn’t talk much, but people knew his fear and hatred were not only for the magical newcomers but for anyone not from the United States. His history of xenophobic rhetoric and strong personality made him the perfect leader for a group like HF. He fed the flames of the people’s fear, and that was exactly what they needed to get the politicians on their side. It had worked up to this point, and Ashworth knew it would only get stronger.

  “I saw your latest rally speech on the steps of the Capitol. It was very impressive. You kept the fearful points low-key, but they definitely struck a chord with your followers. I like what you are doing—keep it up. Your organization was a very sensitive point of discussion during the meeting today, and it’s no secret you already have Lambert on your side. We all saw that coming a mile away.”

  “I saw that coming when he privately funded our startup.” Ashworth chuckled. “But your words of encouragement are important. We need to know we have backing where it counts, because it is obvious these aliens are infiltrating our government and that will only work against us.”

  “Don’t worry about them. They are small fish, Ashworth. You need to keep your eye on the people and keep rousing them. You are protecting our way of life from the magical aliens, something many people don’t fully understand at this point. It may not be new to men like us, but it is new to a lot of people out there, and that number will grow, along with their fears. If we don’t stop the Oricerans from coming, this country and this world, will be overrun. We will have to share our food, our water, our neighborhoods and our schools with these beings. We will become a minority on our own damn planet—and that isn’t acceptable.”

  “Absolutely, Senator. We may be asking for laws, but that is just the beginning. Once we are in the door, these beings will think twice about coming here. I won’t be pushed off my own planet or overrun by freaks of nature. We can’t trust a damn one of them, even that Senator Brushwood. He is working alongside the magical community, stepping on the authorities’ toes to take down criminals. We don’t need any more fucking vigilantes.”

  “I couldn’t agree with you more. Keep moving ahead, and I’ll be in touch.”

  The senator hung up and handed his phone to his aide, nodding and continuing to his office. He had always done what was in the best interests of his people, and he was damn well not going to stop. The darkness was building inside of him, whether he could see it or not.

  Leira stubbed her toe on the edge of the tile, groaning she put down the plate quickly and grabbed her foot. The kitchen renovations were still not complete, but with everything going on she and Correk were pretty much maxed out. When she was done cussing out the inanimate objects around her, she grabbed the plate of sandwiches and headed to the table. She set it down in the center and poured them some iced tea.

  “You should just use your magic to finish,” Yumfuck suggested, nodding at the tile. “Or you may not have feet to walk with.”

  “Just bloody stumps.” Leira groaned. “It’ll get done, we just need to get a day to ourselves.”

  “I can do it. I’ve been watching reruns of the Bob Vila show.”

  Leira lifted an eyebrow and passed him a sandwich. “Thanks, but I think we got this one. You can help when we do it, though.”

  “I’ll make sure I get a tool belt.”

  Yumfuck pulled a bag of Funyuns onto the table. He grabbed one out and took a bite. Leira bit down into her sandwich and glanced at the bag, which had a giant “C” on the front in Sharpie. She chewed her bite and swallowed, looking at Yumfuck with narrowed eyes.

  “Is that Correk’s bag of Funyuns? Didn’t I get you a bag of your own?”

  Before Yumfuck could answer, Leira’s phone rang from the other room. The look of guilt on his face was enough to answer her question anyway. They were like kids fighting over the last toy in the toy box, sneaking around stealing each other’s food.

  “Thousands of candles can be lit from a single candle, and the life of that candle will not be shortened. Funyuns never decrease by being shared.” Yumfuck lowered his head.

  Leira looked over her shoulder as she walked toward the living room. “Yeah, nice try, Buddha. He’s gonna be pissed.”

  When she grabbed her phone, the display showed it was an unknown caller. Whenever her government contacts called they always blocked the number, like she didn’t know where they were located or how to find them. She sighed and answered.

  “This is Berens.”

  “This is the agency. General Anderson asked that I reach out to you with an offer for a new assignment. If you choose to accept, you will have to leave immediately.”

  “Okay... What is the assignment?”

  “The Yakuza, a high-level Japanese organized crime outfit, is attempting to break into a government facility to steal magical artifacts that have been temporarily stored there. At this time, we do not have the security to defend the facility or ability to move those artifacts fast enough. We would like you to leave immediately for LA and assist in stopping and possibly apprehending as many of these men as possible.”

  “I’ll be bringing my own team.”

  “Done. We will send you the coordinates. Remember, this is very time-sensitive.”

  “No problem.”

  Leira hung up and held the edge of the phone to her lips. She’d heard of the Yakuza, of course, but hadn’t known they were magical. She wished she had time to talk to Correk about it. But he was gone already on a mission and from the secrecy of the call she figured calling Turner was out of the question.

  She glanced at the coordinates flashing across her screen. She went into the kitchen and looked at Yumfuck, his cheeks stuffed with Funyuns. Leira chuckled, knowing that if she were going to face a group of magical mobsters, she definitely needed her troll for back up.

  “You up for some mobster ass-kicking?”

  Yumfuck’s eyes grew bigger. “Hell yeah, motherfucker! Can I wear a fedora and carry a Tommy gun?”

  “No, but you can grow huge and carry those vicious claws of yours.”

  “Deal!” Yumfuck jumped from the chair. “I’ll go get ready.”

  “All right, but hurry. It’s time-sensitive. I am going to call Louie, since we’re gonna need his help too. This is definitely not something I want t
o walk into unprepared.”

  “Roger that,” Yumfuck replied, giving her a salute before bolting up the stairs.

  Leira rolled up the bag of Funyuns and stuck them back in the pantry. She went to change her clothes, already feeling the adrenaline pumping through her. Finally, something a bit more interesting, and she was gonna learn about a whole new group of magical enemies. It was a win-win in her book, even though she knew that Correk would probably freak out a bit if he knew.

  Once dressed, she grabbed a rubber band and stood in front of the mirror, pulling her hair back into a tight ponytail. She stared at her reflection for a moment, seeing her mother around her eyes. She missed her, so she sent out a stream of energy to give her a magical hug.

  Love you, too, her mother’s voice replied in her head. That was all Leira needed to calm her nerves. She grabbed her pistol and belted the holster to her hip, just in case magic wasn’t enough. She called Louie, hoping he was ready to rock and roll. He was part of her team, and that was worth its weight in gold since he had pretty much followed her to Earth and then to DC.

  It was time to kick some mobster ass, and she was taking the A team.

  9

  Ava Hou whipped her long black hair over her shoulder and tapped her staff against the old hardwood floors. Her green eyes twinkled with mischief when Louie groaned and tried to lift his exhausted body off the floor. He shook his head as he reached down to rub his bruised elbow.

  She enjoyed training Louie. He was much nimbler than others she had trained in martial arts, caught on quickly, and had no problem letting her know when it hurt. He was also her best friend. She was also comfortable enough to show off her skills, which she normally didn’t do.

  “That staff has a hard end.” Louie grimaced.