Agent of Chaos (Dark Fae FBI Book 2)

by Alex Rivers

  Visions of my past flickered in my mind. Mentally, I scrambled to bury them again, to push them deep under the surface. I couldn’t function with that gurgling noise ringing in my mind. At last, I cleared my skull of those dark memories, clamping them tightly underground. “What happened?” I asked faintly.

  “You scared the hell out of me, that’s what happened,” Gabriel said, brushing the wet hair from my face. “When I got here you were hardly breathing, completely pale. I thought you were dying!”

  “Are we in Sheerness Docks?” I asked

  “Yeah. I drove here after Roan told me where to find you.”

  “Good.” I groaned, pushing myself up until I was sitting. Dirt clung to my sodden dress. “I think I got here on time.” I hazily recalled the figure, and her voice as my world had dimmed. It had been a woman, I realized, her voice full of malice. And it sounded familiar. I’d met her before…

  “You delivered the bone?”

  “I… think so. Roan told you about the pelvic bone thing?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Is he here?”

  “No. He said he had somewhere else he needed to be. What happened to you? Did someone attack you?”

  “No.” I thought of Grendel. “Well… yes, back at the club, but he didn’t do this. I used too much magic, and it started screwing with me.”

  Gabriel took my elbow, helping me stand. I was shaking, my whole body weak. I leaned into him, so grateful he’d come for me.

  “I was hoping I’d get Scarlett back.”

  “Come. I’ll take you to my car.”

  “Thank you for coming for me. Have I mentioned that you’re fantastic?” I leaned against him as we walked to the road. He opened the passenger’s door for me and helped me inside. I closed my eyes as he got in the driver’s seat and turned on the engine.

  The car hummed to life, and we pulled away.

  “Do you have any idea what the abductor’s next move will be?”

  “I don’t know,” I said hollowly.

  “Did you see him?”

  “It was a woman.” My mouth was dry, and I swallowed hard. “She said she was surprised I made it.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Yeah, I think so. I was busy fainting.”

  “Right. So what do we—”

  “Gabriel, I can’t think right now, I’m too…”

  I searched for a word. When you don’t eat for too long, you’re hungry, or famished. A lack of water makes you thirsty. I had no magic. My body craved the vibrant sensation of magic that I’d never known I had until it was gone.

  “I’m too weak,” I said simply.

  “Of course. Sorry. Close your eyes.”

  Before I drifted off to sleep, I looked at the rear-view mirror. I looked terrible. My hair hung tangled around my face, I had black circles under my eyes, my face was sickly pale. Dirt covered my wet skin and dress, forming muddy smudges. I tried to feel for the reflection, desperate to form a bond with it.

  I could feel something there, but I couldn’t bond with it. I tried for several minutes, biting my lip in frustration. Nothing. Had I destroyed my magic? The thought filled me with a strange dread.

  As we drove, an emptiness gnawed at my chest, too terrible to bear. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat yearning for… something, I didn’t know what. Until, suddenly, I could feel it. To our right, there was something I needed, I starved for. I could feel it washing over my skin in faint waves.

  “Take that exit,” I said, my voice hoarse.

  “What?”

  “Do it. Now!”

  I was about to grab the steering wheel and twist it myself, consumed by desperation. But there was no need. Glancing at me with concern, Gabriel steered the car to the exit from the highway.

  “Are you going to explain this?”

  “It’s there…” I pointed out the windshield at another road. “To our right! Get us there!”

  “What is there?”

  “I don’t know! Please! I’m so… I need it.”

  He turned right again and I guided him, the sensation tugging me like an invisible cord. My eyes could hardly take in where we were going until Gabriel stopped.

  “Okay,” he said. “Why are we at the hospital? Do you need medical help?”

  I stared wide-eyed at the blue sign in front of a squat brick building. Sheppey Community Hospital. There was something here I needed.

  “I’ll be right back.” I opened the door, stumbling out, following the tug at my body.

  I pushed through the hospital doors, oblivious to everything but the magnetic pull. So close now. I ran down the blue-walled hall into a large room, full of chairs. People milled about, their faces serious, worried. Tears stained the cheeks of some.

  A toddler screamed, clutching his ears. A young woman clutched her bleeding hand, her clothes stained with blood.

  The emergency waiting room.

  Energy vibrated through the room, feeding my body. I took deep breaths, relief washing over me, just standing there, feeling the rush. A banquet of fear.

  Everywhere around me, people were worrying for their loved ones, terrified of bad news, anxiously waiting for the doctors to tell them what was going on. A boy with an ear infection didn’t understand what was happening to him.

  The only one enjoying themself in here was me—the fucking terror leech—as my magic built inside me.

  I wanted to stop, to leave, and yet I stood there and fed.

  Finally, my body was satisfied, drunk on fear. I could tell my magic was far from its former self—just a fragment of what it had been. Filling the well would take a long time. But it was there, and now I could feel the reflections around me, let my mind bond with them.

  I walked outside, my body whole again, but my soul a little broken. In the parking lot, I pulled open the car door, ignoring Gabriel’s concerned stare.

  I knew who I was now, and I would never be the same.

  Chapter 15

  In Gabriel’s bathroom, the ransom note was still scrawled on the mirror, written in blood. It had dried to a deep brown. I had an overwhelming desire to wash it off, but maybe I’d be able to get it tested for DNA or fingerprints.

  I turned my back to the reflection as I pulled off the muddy dress, and threw it into the trash. When I’d originally stolen it, I’d thought of returning it, perhaps. But I had waded in the murky river water in it, and probably vomited tea on it, and finally, I’d lain on the dirty docks for several hours in it. There was no coming back for that dress.

  I turned on the shower—hot enough to turn my skin red—and stepped into the stream. Steam billowed around me, and I let the hot water run over my body. What was Scarlett doing now? And why had that woman’s voice sounded so damn familiar?

  I couldn’t place it. She had a British accent, but there’d been nothing remarkable about it. It was a generic sort of accent—nothing regional. I scrubbed my body all over, working up a soapy lather, scented of lilac, then rinsed off the suds.

  After a few minutes, I turned off the shower, and stepped into the steamy bathroom. I toweled off, then pulled on my underwear, a pair of jeans, and a cotton T-shirt.

  I stood in front of the mirror and felt for the reflection, testing my magic like someone trying to stand on a sprained ankle. I did it gently, my body tense as if expecting the pain of rejection. But within a few moments, I felt the reflection click in my mind, bonding with me. From here, I could even bond with another reflection, looking through the toaster in Gabriel’s kitchen, watching the kettle steam.

  I didn’t dare trying to jump through the reflection. Not yet. When I thought of how it felt to get trapped between reflections, a shiver ran up my spine. I dropped the link to the kitchen reflection.

  Through the maroon smears, I stared at my own face, feeling as if I was looking at a stranger. This woman, with her pink, unkempt hair, was not Special Agent Cassandra Liddell. The woman before me was a lilive, a fortal. A terror leech. Someone who thrived off human suffering,
her own feelings a drug for fae. Wanted by the CIA.

  I had a thousand ideas of what should be done. I could try and find Roan, discuss our next step. I could try and contact the FBI, who could hopefully help me reach out to the CIA. Maybe get a forensic crew here, analyze the note.

  I stared at myself, wondering if the abductor would contact me again. I had a feeling she would. There was something… personal in the way she’d reached out to me the last time, watching me through the bathroom mirror, her magic similar to mine. I must know her, right? I’d recognized the voice.

  I bonded with the reflection again, searching for Scarlett. Nothing. The same result for Roan.

  I frowned, stepping back to take in the whole note. Written like a nursery rhyme, just like the Rix’s note. Gabriel had asked me about the chances that the Rix and the abductor both happened to communicate in nursery rhymes.

  Was there a significance to the similarity, or just a quirk of how the fae communicated with humans? It was, of course, entirely possible that this had all been orchestrated by someone loyal to the Rix, enraged that I’d killed a petty king.

  But then why the whole puppet-master charade, getting me to run around London with a pelvic bone? Why not just murder me?

  I needed to do some research. I crossed into the bedroom, searching for my laptop before I remembered I’d left it in the kitchen. My hair dampened my T-shirt as I crossed into the kitchen. Being clean felt glorious.

  As I stepped into the kitchen, I smiled to see Gabriel frying eggs in a pan, barefoot in jeans and a gray T-shirt.

  Music filled the air, a jazz tune—a variation, I thought, on a song called “Naima.”

  I sat at the table, opening my laptop. “Hey, gorgeous.”

  He smiled, his cheek dimpling as he scooped scrambled eggs onto toast. “How are you feeling?”

  I hesitated. “Fine.”

  “Are you hungry? I’m making you something to eat.”

  “No. But did I thank you already for picking me up in Kent?”

  “Yes, and eat anyway.” He slid a plate in front of me, sticking a fork in a mound of scrambled eggs.

  I took a bite dutifully, and swallowed. On my laptop, I opened the browser, and began searching for articles about nursery rhymes, fae, and psychopaths.

  From my experience so far, there was significant overlap in the latter two groups.

  “What is this music?” I asked. “It’s nice.”

  “The Lauren Gardner Quintet.”

  “Never heard of them.”

  “Yeah. We were never very successful.”

  I raised my eyes from the screen, smiling at Gabriel. “You’re a part of this quintet, I take it?”

  He slid a cup of tea over to me. “I was. Years ago.”

  “Let me guess… piano?”

  He sat across from me, in front of his own plate of eggs. “Nope, that was Lauren. I was on drums.”

  I glanced at his athletic-looking arms, realizing that might be why his shoulders and arms seemed so strong. “Ah. Drums. You still play, though, on your own.”

  He frowned. “How did you know that?”

  “Just…” I swallowed hard. “Your arms. It’s either that or you spend a lot of time in the gym.”

  That dimple appeared again in his cheek.

  “Anyway, the music is lovely,” I said. “I’d love to hear more. Once…”

  “Once your friend is safe.”

  I nodded, and took another bite of the eggs. I looked at the screen again, sighing as I scanned through a bunch of useless articles about the dark origins of nursery rhymes. I sighed, shaking my head.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Trying to understand the note in the bathroom. You said Lucy Locket was an old nursery rhyme. And the Rix’s note had been based on the Queen of Hearts.”

  “You’re trying to profile the abductor?”

  “That’s what I do. That reminds me.” I rubbed a knot in my forehead. “I don’t think I can stay here long. The CIA knows I’m fae, and they think I have something to do with Scarlett’s disappearance. I was the last person she was seen with.”

  “I’m not sure I like where this is going.”

  “When I went to the CIA’s London station, there was a bit of a kerfuffle, and they tried to shoot me.”

  “Wonderful.”

  “So, it probably won’t be long until they connect the dots to you and come sniffing around here.”

  He leaned back in his chair, scrubbing a hand over his mouth. “Mmm-hmm.”

  “I should probably find somewhere else to stay.”

  He frowned. “I’ll get you a hotel room.”

  Tears stung my eyes. Gabriel was unbelievably generous. “Why are you helping me?”

  “Because I’m not an arsehole and I don’t want your friend to die.”

  “Right.” I dropped my fork on the plate, unable to eat anymore. “Thanks. I had another thought. You should get a forensic scientist in here, have them test the mirror for—”

  “Already called Gracie this morning. She took what they needed. She couldn’t get a print, unfortunately.”

  I felt a surge of panic. “If the CIA interviews her about what she saw—”

  “She won’t say anything to anyone, Cassandra. I trust her. And she’s under no obligation to give information to a foreign intelligence agency.”

  I let out a long, measured breath.

  He nodded at my laptop. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

  “No. I need to know more. This abductor. This woman. Why did she target Scarlett? Was it an attack on Scarlett? Or was it aimed at me?”

  “Perhaps both.”

  “Right. And what does she want? Her first task seemed so arbitrary. Why would she need an old bone? It makes no sense.”

  “First task? So you think there will be more?”

  I sipped my tea. “Yes. I think so. Very soon.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “This woman enjoyed the thrill of the race. She likes it when things are fast, unpredictable, intense. We’ll get another message in no time. And before that happens, I need to know more about her. I need to find a way to talk to her, to negotiate with her.”

  I turned to the laptop again, clicking on another link. So far, I’d found zero scholarly articles about psychopathy and nursery rhymes, or even poems. Nothing but a bunch of bullshit blogs. I read them anyway, feeling my eyes droop as I struggled to make sense of the information. My mind seemed to be drifting, and if I could just close my eyes for a few moments….

  “Cassandra.” Gabriel gripped my shoulder.

  I started, raising my head. I had fallen asleep on the table.

  “What?” I blinked.

  “Look.”

  On the kitchen window that overlooked the street, words had begun materializing.

  Chapter 16

  As the words appeared on the window, my body froze. The sentences scrawled over the glass, the blood trickling down the pane.

  Three blind mice. Three blind mice.

  See how they run. A bull in the sun.

  My heart thumped, and I tried to avoid thinking about where the blood had come from. I highly doubted it was the abductor’s.

  “A bull in the sun,” Gabriel read aloud, his voice piercing the fog in my mind.

  As another line of red smears began to appear on the glass, I shot out of the chair, knocking it over with my momentum. I rushed for the guest room, and rummaged through the discarded clothing on the bed and floor until I found the wand-shaped magical scanner.

  “Cassandra!” Gabriel called. “What are you doing? There are more words appearing.”

  My pulse racing, I dashed into the kitchen, trying not to get distracted by the lengthening smears of red. Hurriedly, I waved the scanner across the window, praying that I’d gotten there in time for it to capture a magical imprint.

  “What’s that thing?” asked Gabriel.

  The scanner let out a high-pitched tone, and a small gre
en light blinked.

  I sighed in relief. “I got a magical imprint. If I can find some way to get the CIA to cooperate, maybe we can identify the source of the magic.” Maybe even find Scarlett.

  Stepping back, I stared at the gory message on the window as the last lines of the poem materialized, and I stood back to read it all out loud.

  Three blind mice. Three blind mice.

  See how they run. A bull in the sun.

  You all chase after the little spy,

  Did you ever think you would watch her die?

  At six forty-four, if you don’t bleed the boar,

  Scarlett’s sacrificed.

  Sharp claws of panic raked through my chest. These were supposed to be our instructions, the way to save Scarlett, and it made no sense whatsoever. The only clear thing was the part about sacrificing Scarlett. “What the hell does that mean?”

  The blood from the letters trickled down the window in a gory trail, pooling on the bottom sill.

  “Hang on.” Gabriel jotted down the words on a notebook, which was wise, since the entire message was becoming an incomprehensible mess. “The bull in the sun,” he muttered.

  My fists tightened. “Does this make sense to you?”

  “Not particularly.”

  I closed my eyes, replaying the words in my mind. “The three blind mice are all chasing after the little spy. Me, you, and Roan, maybe? The three of us were working together. Maybe the abductor is letting us know that she was watching us. She knows about you and Roan.”

  “And she’s enjoying watching us run around blindly.”

  “Exactly.”

  “What is this boar we’re supposed to bleed? And where? Last time, she gave us a very specific location.”

  Gabriel scrubbed a hand over his mouth. “Let me think. The last time she gave us a hint about where we needed to go. The Winchester Geese. That linked us directly to the palace. But there’s nothing so straightforward here.”

  I pulled his notebook from his hand, staring at the message. “Why six forty-four? It’s weirdly precise. A normal person would have said six forty-five.”