Turbulence: Book One in The Renegades Saga

by E. M. Whittaker

  “You’ll find out.” The Poisoner’s voice started slurring at the end of each word. Even the mages’ harsh scent didn’t keep her from going limp against him. “But don’t be too rough. Reese’s the logical one, really.”

  “Great, just what I needed. Dealing with another bloody cat.”

  Aviere’s body bobbed when Travis cradled her in his arms. For a few seconds, she wrinkled her nose, but yawned deeply before breathing evenly.

  “If I have one claw mark, I’m going to make you pay, Mye.”

  “Then go find car, Travis. No teleportin’ me no more.”

  The agent’s reply sounded like bees buzzing in her ears as she drifted to sleep, trying to forget the heartache and sorrow Sanderson invoked at their meeting.

  Chapter Five

  Travis held the shifter in his arms, cradling her as they arrived inside her apartment a few hours later, as sunlight peaked over the horizon. The brief rest refreshed him, but his headache returned when he phased inside the tiny apartment. Strong magic probed his mind and pain exploded behind his eyes, followed by flickering white spots.

  The mage closed one eye, wincing as he scouted the tiny room.

  At least the living room is decorated with contemporary furniture, Lyssa. Maybe Mye’s weird fashion only affects her clothing.

  He stepped on a lion and tiger throw rug, investigating the wooden floor and landscaped watercolor paintings hanging on pasty drywall. Another mental probe sent a backlash of throbbing pain, threatening to send Travis to his knees. Before he succumbed, he laid Aviere’s slumbering form against a checkered magenta and umber couch, gaping at the horrid color combination.

  “Jesus, Mye,” he said, covering her with a lime green throw blanket. “That’s the ugliest couch I’ve ever seen. At least the pink isn’t chalky like Pepto. But I’m willing to bet you picked out this couch. Suits your fashion sense enough, woman.”

  The room wavered and Travis noticed the silver energy fluctuating wildly around the room. He tried pinpointing the location, but the growing migraine started hindering his abilities. As one eye twitched, Travis doubted his luck at straight shooting. Tunnel vision reduced his peripheral sight, and he held a hand over his eyes.

  Keith, shooting in a civilian home’s not a good idea—even if it’s stopping another goddamn surprise.

  Fatigue settled into his weary body and overloaded mind. The mage probed tentatively toward the middle of the hall with his magic, hoping to find the source of the silver energy. However, it encompassed the entire apartment, leaving no hint as to its origin.

  A wordless cry escaped him while his eyes twitched from another attack aimed for his temples.

  Damn it! This must be the mage Mye talked about earlier. He’s good, Lyssa. This guy could counter me at my full potential…

  Travis’ thoughts ceased when voices carried from the back hallway. A brash, clipped Baltimorean accent barked an order while another answered with a hint of Jamaican in his city accent. The voices exchanged clipped responses back and forth until something crashed from their location.

  Seconds after the crash, the apartment floor quaked. Travis hurried to grab the armrest of the couch before falling to the floor.

  What the fuck?! Baltimore City isn’t known for earthquakes. So—I guess that means—

  “Maurice, I swear to God!!” The solid Baltimorean accent called down the hallway. “I know you’re pissed, but don’t maul the fed! You understand Sis is with him, right?!”

  “Peters, I’m regretting coming to Mye’s apartment,” Travis said, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I’m dealing with a mage and some sort of… I don’t know what’s going on!”

  Dry chuckling sounded from the earpiece lodged in Travis’ ear. “Better you than me, buddy. Good luck.”

  Thunderous footsteps rattled picture frames resting on wooden shelves along the walls. Travis remained next to the couch, open-mouthed when a six-foot orange and black sheet patterned Bengal presented himself to him.

  The tiger stopped at the entryway of the living room before roaring loudly at Travis.

  “Mye, get the fuck up!” Travis bellowed, pulling out his gun. “You didn’t mention your brother being a fucking—”

  “I wouldn’t finish that sentence or shoot Maurice, Fed. Reese’ll attack you. I guess Sis didn’t mention how territorial cats are.”

  Travis pointed the Desert Eagle at the scraggly brunette-haired male leaning against the framework of the living room entrance behind the majestic Bengal. Silver and darkness spun in the man’s inner light, revealing the source of silver energy around the apartment. The stranger reached in his back pocket and pulled out a tiny silver box, carefully opening it.

  The Bengal snarled and snapped his teeth at Travis before he fired.

  “I assume you have some reason for being with Sis—and while we’re grateful you returned her home, stop yelling and put the gun down. We’re in an apartment complex, moron.”

  “You say that, yet there’s a six foot Bengal standing in your living room,” Travis retorted.

  “Yeah, Reese shouldn’t have shifted, but—it’s been a bad morning.” The lanky male pulled out a lighter, and a rolled up joint, lighting up the illegal substance. “I’ll deal with Sis’ temper later for the light, but I’m sure she’s wiped. Now, put the gun down before Reese mauls off your leg. Shifters tend to lose their humanity for a bit once their hunting instincts kick in, no matter how even-tempered.”

  “You—you’re sure?” Travis asked, eying the Bengal stalking around him.

  “Positive.” Musky, earth notes started permeating the air. “I’ll contain him if need be.”

  The agent trembled when he put the gun back in its holster. He scooted to the two-toned couch, adjusting Aviere’s legs before sitting. Hazel eyes darted back and forth, watching the tiger continue his movements around the couch.

  “Stop being so nervous. Maurice’s feeding off it.”

  “Kind of hard when you got a fucking tiger stalking you, man.”

  “Eh, it’s hard the first few times, I agree.” The man strode to Travis and picked up an ashtray. “But we had unwanted visitors earlier. They’re resting in a pile of goo in a dumpster.”

  “Put out the damn joint,” Travis ordered, gripping his knees. “The last thing I want to do is explain to Mye why I’m arresting you. I should for the exotic animal in a goddamn apartment.”

  Silver energy laced Limere’s fingertips before darkness laced around his hands. “I’ll expose you to your boss if you take Reese. Eye for an eye, Fed.”

  “Travis.”

  “Not interested in your name, really.” Aviere’s brother ran a hand through his hair and dandruff fell on his pale shoulders. Travis shook his head before icy blue eyes glared while he brushed off the flakes. “Tell me why you took my little sister and I may let you live.”

  A loud growl boomed through the living room and Travis slowly lowered his hand on top his weapon.

  “Maurice, stop.” Bony fingers gestured to Travis. “And you—stop going for the gun. Now, out with it, Fed.”

  “That’s classified.” Travis adjusted his earpiece with two fingers. “Peters, tell me who Mye’s relatives are. Hard to address them without names. And that shifter I mentioned? There’s a fucking tiger here with me!”

  Keys clanked in Travis’ left ear. “Read the damn dossier before leaving next time, Travis.”

  “Hey now,” the man objected, blowing smoke in Travis’ face. “Could’ve just asked. I’m Limere. Course, you’re familiar with Maurice, over there.”

  Travis peered warily at the Bengal from the corner of his eye, raising an eyebrow at the name. “Charming. But call the tiger off me, mage.”

  Another cloud of smoke blew in Travis’ face and he coughed. “Nah, I like Reese where he is. But it looks like you’ve had a rough day.” Limere pointed to the collar around Travis’ exposed neck. “Since you’re wearing a Renegade collar, I assume you’re working with Sis. We hoped it wouldn’t co
me to this… but I suppose it was only a matter of time, really.”

  Travis hurried and tried covering his neck with the broken-buttoned collar. “You people aren’t supposed to know this shit. Swear to God, you’re the most normal guy I’ve run into the last two days.”

  “I probably am,” Limere agreed. “I won’t claw you like Sis or Reese. She got you, I see.”

  “Twice,” Travis said, voice laced with scorn. “The stupid bitch got me twice.”

  “You deserved it the first time.” The joint slowly shrunk each time the snide male smoked. “You broke into Sis’ car. Busted her window good, too. I’m sure it’ll cost her about $250 to get it fixed. She’ll give you hell for a while, considering it’s important to her.”

  “I didn’t deserve to be poisoned with hemlock for busting a window.”

  “Sis didn’t have to, no.”

  “How the hell do you two deal with Mye?”

  Travis made a thoughtful noise when Limere’s cheeks flushed. “We manage.” The agent jumped at the mage’s cold flesh when it brushed his hand, reaching for Aviere’s wrist. “Great, they gave you brand new prototypes. I’m sure they’re filled with nifty features, so be careful when communicating with people.”

  They shouldn’t know this shit! Travis held his shoulder, rolling his tongue around his mouth for saliva. But this makes things easier, I guess. Still—

  “You don’t seem thrilled. Believe me, we’re not happy either. You’re going to complicate things for us.”

  “Your sister’s a fucking hellion,” Travis proclaimed, rubbing his arm. “Stood up to people she shouldn’t have and nearly escaped lockup, despite a break in to get the woman.”

  The joint rested in the ashtray and Limere’s icy eyes warmed slightly. “That’s Sis. Always the fighter, that one.”

  A paw slammed on the wooden floor before the Bengal stretched, ceasing his stalking.

  “Yeah, Reese, calm down. Don’t be too mad at Sis. The damn Renegades tagged her, so I’m sure she fought the entire process.”

  How can he joke about—you know what? Never mind. I don’t want to know their dynamic, Lyssa. Forget I asked.

  Travis scratched the side of his neck, wiping beading sweat away. Hazel eyes lingered on the tiger, raising an eyebrow when he approached him. “You people shouldn’t know this shit. None of it.”

  Maurice hissed softly before pounding a paw against Travis’ knee.

  “No more,” Travis muttered, shaking Aviere’s leg hard when he started grabbing the gun. “Mye—”

  “Reese, stop!” Limere grabbed the shifter by the scruff and lifted his upper body with ease. “Shift back. I’ll contain the fed if necessary, but any more noise and Sis will wake up. Might even get the neighbors to call animal control. Waking Sis up is dangerous, but explainin’ why we have to break you out of the Baltimore City Zoo won’t be amusing.”

  The tiger huffed, swiped at Limere, and growled as the lanky male released him. Intense gray eyes investigated Travis one last time before he gracefully padded out of the living room.

  Jesus, Sanderson—I got a cat girl, a tiger hell bent on mauling me, and a highly advanced mage who can control both. I don’t deserve this shit. I really don’t.

  Silver energy faded and darkness sparked in Limere’s aura. In Travis’ exhausted and nervous state, he found it hard to avert his gaze from the hypnotic pattern of swirling energies. “Now, we can get to business. You’re investigating the deaths of the hierarchy. The evidence lead to my baby sister. Only problem is—she’s not icing them. They’re using methods we stopped using years ago.”

  Travis lazily gazed at Limere, memorizing his movements and tics as they talked. He watched the way the other rubbed a finger against the lit joint before taking a small hit.

  He smokes as he thinks, almost treasuring the stimulation it gives. Almost like coffee. God, coffee would be nice.

  “Sis figured out who’s responsible. She wouldn’t tell me, considering I pissed her off yesterday.” The darkness receded from Limere as silver light returned to the mage’s aura. “We’ll be here for a bit, gathering what we need before heading to our new location. We can protect Sis, so you’re welcome to go home for a little while. You look beat, man.”

  Travis let out a tight breath and stood, adjusting his large hat as Limere stole his seat on the couch. “You’re awfully calm about this.”

  “Eh, it comes with our line of work. You get used to it.” Limere paused, brushing hair away from Aviere’s face. “But I hope you understand what you’re getting yourself into, mage. She’s not like those other people you’ve been partnered with.”

  “I noticed.” Travis unbuttoned the trench coat and removed it, hanging it over his arm. Exposing his ruined suit seemed unsettling, but stopped the agent from sweating profusely. Instead, he clamped a hand on top of the other, trying to stop it from spasming from frayed nerves.

  Mye sleeps like the dead. I’ll keep that in mind, but it’s bad for this line of work. What is Sanderson thinking, putting her—

  “You should get going,” Limere pressed. “Sis’ll leave the moment she wakes up to get that stupid car of hers.”

  “Thanks, but we have to stay close. Apparently, the collar and bracelet are somehow linked. Anything past ten miles and we lose our limbs. Mye may want to tempt death, but I’m fond of my head on my shoulders.”

  The snickering didn’t alleviate Travis’ reservations. “Fair enough.”

  “I’ve known Mye for three hours and she’s managed to almost get kidnapped twice.”

  “She did,” Limere agreed, leaning forward to rest sooted hands on his frayed jeans. “One was your fault, but I see what you mean. I’d give you the fold-up bed, but Sis is laying on it.”

  “Don’t bother.” Travis gripped the leather holster. “I’ll be up.”

  “We’ll take watch, then. I’ll take it first. You’re too exhausted.”

  “I can do it,” Travis insisted, squinting with one eye. “It’s my job. Besides, I’m not sure if I’m safe from being mauled to death.”

  “Suit yourself, Fed.” Limere vacated his seat and finished his joint, crushing the tiny object against a scuffed black and white tennis shoe before depositing it in the ashtray. “The choice is yours.”

  Travis blinked at the tall mage languidly walking down the hallway before sitting back on the couch, staring at Aviere’s sleeping form. The pounding migraine retracted to a manageable dull throb. “Mye, your family’s a handful. I’m killing the tiger if he bites me in my sleep.”

  Soft snoring answered in reply, echoing his growing drowsiness.

  He tried stiffening on the couch, but found the cushions welcoming against his aching back and head. Slowly, he eased himself back, feeling his tensed hand slip against his side. Aviere’s snores blocked out the slight ringing in his ears.

  Travis tried lifting his heavy body, only to sink further into the couch.

  Jesus, Lyssa… I can’t keep up at this pace with her. Something’s got to give. Complex thoughts faded when he tried linking them together. Even the mantra he started in his mind faded after his leg twitched involuntarily. Maybe closing my eyes for a few minutes won’t hurt. I can’t run on fumes the entire time, after all.

  Sleepy eyes blinked as he looked for the Bengal tiger, relieved when the room remained empty.

  I’ll wake up when Peters tell me something new or when static screams in my ear—whichever comes first.

  “Peters, wake me up when you have somethin’,” Travis slurred, finally surrendering to the fatigue. “Just be glad you ain’t the one on field duty.”

  Travis’ eyelids fluttered closed as his head rested against his chest, ignoring Peters’ whining objections when he fell into deep sleep seconds later.

  Finally, Aviere thought, waiting until the agent snored before cracking an eye open. I thought they were going to wreck my goddamn living room.

  The Poisoner yawned, covering her mouth as she slowly rose from the couch. A boot brushe
d against Travis’ leg and she gasped, waiting for him to stir. She held her breath, hoping he still slept.

  The next minute dragged while she waited, breath caught in her throat. Each tiny movement Travis made caused Aviere’s stomach to flutter. For a few seconds, his eyelids fluttered, and he groaned, staring at her with glassy eyes.

  The hairs on her arms rose before Travis slumped against the couch, snoring deeply when he turned to sleep.

  Thank god. Christ—

  “You got us in trouble again, baby girl.”

  Aviere cracked her knuckles, greeted by a mocha-colored male sporting a simple black polo and matching colored khakis. The dark tone of his clothing matched the smoldering look in his gray eyes. Beefy arms rested against his chest, legs apart when he glowered at her.

  “Maurice—I can explain—”

  “I’m involved in shit I ain’t supposed to be again.” Maurice twirled a braided dread, blowing out hot air. “You told me you wouldn’t get me in trouble if somethin’ happened. What’s the point in gettin’ my degree if you two blow our cover?”

  Aviere pressed a slender finger to her lips, pointing at Travis’ slumping form. “I don’t need him waking up.”

  “Yeah, me either. Though, it’s funny watchin’ humans try to understand things out of their scope.” A light hand beat his chest with pride and a beaming smile spread across his lips. “He really thought capturing you would save him, too. What did he do to deserve workin’ with the Renegades?”

  It’s not worth explaining to Reese, Vi. Just let it lie and move forward.

  She busied herself tucking the blanket around Travis and tilted his hat forward, snickering when he slept through the simple motions. “I’m not sure. Quite frankly, I don’t want to know. Travis changes.” She shivered. “The man gets a sick thrill killing people.”

  “Great, you’re stuck with a maniac pretendin’ to be a federal agent.”

  The response—while matter of fact—stopped Aviere from investigating Travis further. She combed lithe fingers through her stringy brunette hair, trying to dissuade herself of the evening’s events. Then she huffed and stared at Maurice’s outstretched hand, forehead wrinkling at the two gold rings on his finger.